Star Wars OPEN Elite League Limmie

Added to the trading block:

Bakura Miners

• Corrie Andersen (Hapan female) Right corner forward. Contract year: 274

Mando'ade Mercs

• Ogeeogilthorp (Wookiee male) Midfielder. Contract year 274. Will be a free agent at season's end. He is a reserve on the Mercs as he is a bit slow for the midfield position. Can be dominant physically on defense at times.
• Gunman Forp (Ishi Tib male) Left corner back. Contract year: 276. A serviceable defender though still more a project than a starter, especially for a contending team. Signed through the 276 season.

OOC: If anyone else adds to the list feel free to leave out the brief descriptions I gave here. I just wanted to add a brief about each, but there is no need to carry those forward.

 

Bakura Miners

• Corrie Andersen (Hapan female) Right corner forward. Contract year: 274

Coruscant Senators

• Griff Hakuna (Twi'lek male), Corner Back. Contract year: 274.
• Salata (Wookiee Female), Half Back. Contract year: 274
• Crell Van Derven (Human Male), Corner Corward. Contract year: 274
• Tonga Rute (Twi'lek Male), Midfielder. Contract year: 274

Mando'ade Mercs

• Ogeeogilthorp (Wookiee male) Midfielder. Contract year 274.
• Gunman Forp (Ishi Tib male) Left corner back. Contract year: 276.

 

GM Post
--Transaction Wire--
Bakura Miners

• Receives Rydonni Prime's second round draft pick in the 275 Elite League Limmie Draft

Rydonni Prime Monarchs

• Receives Corrie Andersen (Hapan, Female, Right Corner Forward, Contract Year 274) from the Bakura Miners

TAG: CPL_Macja

 

OOC: A few bits about Tim's reaction included at the request of Tim Battershell

IC
Noble House box, Bakura Gardens, Salis D’aar, Bakura

When the game was finally over, there was one thing that could be said about the Noble House’s box—it wasn’t like the rest of Bakura Gardens. After all, it was still full.

The Triestes had stoically, if rather silently (except for calls for another drink), sat through the 36-0 drubbing that their prized asset had received. The other Miner fans had not. By the time the game was over, they had almost completely left in disgust, protest, boredom, who knew? The number of seats was glaring, shocking, and broadcast throughout the galaxy. Accordingly, there were few fans in the stands left to see the impressive display of Noghri athletic prowess at the end of the game.

Kerry Trieste’s face had been set in stone ever since 10-0. It hadn’t flinched as the score had gone higher and higher. Her grip had tightened around her tumbler, though. Sitting immediately next to Dodd it might have been visible how white her knucklers were around the glass. Dodd didn’t say much either during the game. It was clear that he was uncomfortable just how much of a romp his team was having at the Miners’ expense. There were plenty of owners who would have sat with smug contentedness over such a thing (names could be named…but everyone knew who they were). Dodd, however, clearly was had not yet gotten integrated into the interlocking structure of enmity that was the Elite League. Soon enough, perhaps, but today he was seemingly mortified that his newcomers should push around one of the old teams with such ease.

When it was all done, the Chancellor stood and turned to Dodd. She shook his hand. “Congratulations on your first statement win as owner of the Packers,” Kerry said with a smile that was surely forced, even if it looked natural enough, “I wish you the best of luck in the Skywalker Conference. Please send our particular regards to the Smugglers and Mercs. We miss them greatly now. With luck perhaps we’ll see you again in the Galactic Cup Final.” Of course, at the moment that didn’t seem like a particularly likely nor desirable pairing. Even so, it was five weeks away. Much could change between now and then.

“I hope when we make our trip to Agamar next year that the Miners can be as wonderful guests as the Packers were today,” Kerry said with a particular smile.

With that, the Noble House disbanded for the day. Declan and Ayn grabbed a lift with the Chancellor, alone. When the doors were shut and they were headed down and quite private together Ayn watched the floor numbers descend.

“That was a particularly good barb at the end,” Ayn said.

“I know,” Kerry Trieste said, looking straight ahead. Despite herself, the corners of her mouth curled just a little bit. One had to enjoy the small pleasures in life when the Miners lost.

---

IC: Falene Trieste
Miners team facilities, Bakura Gardens, Salis D’aar, Bakura

Falene didn’t know which was worse: the howling boos that had rained down on them at halftime or the silence of an empty stadium. Either way the disapproval was manifestly evident. Either way she was pretty miserable.

The Packers had lined up for a playoff-style handshake at the end of the game. Though meant as a gesture of sportsmanship (and Falene appreciated it as such), it was grueling to go through the whole line having to put on a good face. The reality was that Falene just wanted off the field and the moment she was through the handshake line she was out of there as fast as he could go. There were only a handful of fans to either side of the carpet in the concourse and Falene hurried by them into the locker room. She didn’t stop when she got there either. She went all the way through the sullen room and out into the hallway that went to additional facilities. She threw the door of the laundry room open and went inside, slamming it shut behind her.

Falene screamed. She was angry and hurt and embarrassed all at once. She wanted to throw something, but unfortunately all she had access to were hampers of soggy towels. As a consolation prize, she overturned one of them in a fury. Then she kicked another one over and over again because it was the only thing she could control. This season was going to Korriban in a hand basket. It was a disgrace and it was even worse than the Miners had done last year defensively. It was all her fault and no matter how hard she seemed to try, nothing got better. In fact, it was all getting worse.

Valerii had hung her out to dry. She’d pulled everyone but her and Andersen. It was clear who Valerii thought was her most valuable asset in that corner forward duo. Detra had been sat once the score had crept to 20 and hadn’t so much as a blade of grass since then. She’d been the only defensive player left in and she’d been totally embarrassed out there as the Packers had walked all over the Miners for another 16 points. Last week she was valuable enough to be benched when the game got out of hand on Ylesia. Now she was getting the Ruunron treatment. The Trandoshan had been left in during the blowout losses too. Now he was out of a job. Not even the Premier League was touching the former second round draft pick.

Falene decided to kick the standing hamper some more. She didn’t care that all those wet towels combined to be a pretty hard mass and hurt after you had been kicking them about two dozen times. She had to do something right now. So she kept kicking and kicking until she’d kicked herself out and she couldn’t kick anymore. Falene slumped against a wall and slid down it until she was sitting on the floor where she panted. She looked around the laundry room and sighed before running a hand through her hair. With a suddenly aching body, Falene got onto her knees and started to gather all of the dirty laundry she’d scattered about. She might have been raised comfortably, but her father had taught her to clean up after herself.

Once Falene had tidied the laundry room she left to go back to the locker room. She’d gotten all her anger out and now there was no chance she’d say something to a teammate that she’d regret later. It had been a very real possibility before. She knew she shouldn’t have just stormed out, but the alternative was worse in her mind.

“Trieste!” snapped through the back corridor. It came from Valerii, the head coach who didn’t speak to her players after a loss. “What are you doing back here?”

Falene didn’t know how to answer that. “Throwing laundry around,” didn’t sound right nor did, “Having a hissy fit.” Both were pretty accurate though. “I needed some time,” was all Falene said.

“I don’t care. You don’t walk away from your team after a game. Ever,” Gaeriel said, “I don’t care if it’s win or lose. They’re your teammates and did you ever think they might need you?”

“Well you certainly didn’t think I was one of them,” Falene snapped, “You left me in there to get blasterwhipped by those backworld hicks.”

“Because you were the only thing I had going out there today!” Valerii shot back, “Something good had to come out of this game and if it was your play, then that was it.”

“You hung me out to dry out there!” Falene protested, “Those 36 points are on me now!”

The head coach paused. “If you’d rather be on the bench than be on the field, that can be arranged,” Valerii said. Then she walked away, leaving Falene to put her head against the wall.

Today was just one giant frak up.

---

Miner practice facility, Salis D’aar, Bakura
The next day

The team had gathered in the locker room of their practice for what was usually a day off. For a change they didn’t have imminent travel to another world with Coruscant coming to visit for next week’s game. The problem was that Coruscant was coming to visit and that wasn’t going to be pretty.

The reason that they were all assembled was because they had been called there by Glencross and Rodders, the captain and assistant captain of the team. It was a players only meeting and at the start of it Rodders had locked the door to make sure they weren’t going to be disturbed.

“Hey, where’s Corrie?” Becki Morlan asked, spotting the absence of her fellow Hapan.

“Shipped to Rydonni Prime for a draft pick,” Alana said, “Happened early this morning, courtesy of the Mighty Quinn.”

T.K. groaned and put his shaved head in his hands. “Draft pick? Oh man, he’s rebuilding. You don’t trade for draft picks when you’re a contender. He’s gonna go into firesale mode.”

“Nobody knows that,” Rodders said, “All we know is that Corrie’s gone and that Will’s probably our new starting Right Corner Forward. He’s done a good job in his minutes there, so this will give the offense some consistency.”

Falene said nothing, but the offense had consistency last game. It consistently didn’t score anything.

“So why are we here?” Anton Jorpik asked, “We all know we royally sucked yesterday.”

“We’re here,” Alana Glencross began, “because it’s time that we sit down and talk about what’s going wrong. Valerii and Cundertol are right. This is still a championship team. We need to start playing like one and clearly something’s going wrong.”

“The defense, clearly, just isn’t working,” Nelly Wizmark said, “We’re just getting outplayed. I don’t know what more we can do.”

“It’s nobody’s fault,” Everett North said, “Does nobody remember? This team goes in cycles. We’re good for a while, we suck for a while. It’s just the system.”

“I don’t care about the system,” Morgan Alesh said, “I’m not just going to sit here and accept that we’re going to blow the season. We’re still a playoff team if we win out. Weirder things have happened.”

“So what are we supposed to do? Try harder?” Nanchecka said, “Is that really going to solve anything?”

And around and around it went. Falene just listened. She didn’t have any answers. It turned out no one else did.

---

Trieste residence, Salis D’aar, Bakura

Falene was eating a little breakfast and flipping through the Salis D’aar Times as she did so. Being a member of a political family like the Triestes, even if she had no interest in politics, meant that reading the Times was mandatory at least to get the major stories. It would be nearly impossible to have a conversation with everyone else if she didn’t. The result was that Falene scanned the major stories and skipped to the sports section on her datapad so as to keep up the illusion that she cared about what happened in the Bakuran Senate.

The front page of the sports section of the Times featured opposing profile shots of Gark S’rily and Quinn Cundertol and a bold headline between them “A TALE OF TWO SYSTEMS.” It was designed to catch attention and it surely did:

It was the best of games, it was the worst of games. That’s how one could sum up things for the Coruscant Senators and the Bakura Miners in Week 4, respectively. The two teams have been mainstays of the League for decades and fierce rivals since the inception of the Kayl’hen Era. The Senators have been the model of consistency with an impressive two Cups and five Final appearances under the reign of Gark S’rily. The Miners have only one of each in the same span to their credit and it’s thanks to the management of Quinn Cundertol. Both beings have instituted starkly different systems in their fiefdoms of limmie. This week they clash head on at Bakura Gardens.

THE S’RILY SYSTEM

Gark S’rily, curiously, is deeply indebted to the “go local” philosophy started by the Miners, a philosophy that has permeated limmie to every corner. Whether it’s the Mercs pulling from KMI or the Monarchs going to GVSU for their recruits everyone does it. When there’s an entire galaxy to recruit from it’s hard to keep track of every recruit and focusing on one world or collegiate conference makes it easier to do so.

S’rily very early on set his sights on the highly populated world of Coruscant. He’s found stars like Deter in out of the way, under recruited areas and given them a chance. He wasn’t afraid to get Dirxx Horstse who was living in the shadow of his father’s career. But most importantly he’s turned CorTech into his own personal recruiting ground.

Of course, anyone can go local. Gark S’rily has built a vertical empire of limmie to keep the talent flowing into Andromeda Steel Corp Field. He quickly followed the Miners after their purchase of an ownership stake the Bison Sabres and personally acquired the Thyferra Force. No team has a closer relationship with their development affiliate than Coruscant does with Thyferra. In fact, one could argue no one has used their development affiliate better than S’rily in providing him with a mix of ready journeymen and draft talent for when the Senators have needed it. One can’t argue too much with it—the Senators are at 2-2 and beat Ylesia last week in a feat that their vaunted veterans could not pull off themselves in what is ostensibly for any other team a rebuilding year.

Even so, S’rily’s system is clearly not perfect. Thyferra is having a dismal system and there is a sentiment growing that the Force have been steadily plundered of talent. What these people forget is that the Force exist for S’rily to do just that. If he can keep Coruscant winning, then in theory he shouldn’t care if Thyferra never wins another game.

“CUNDERBALL”

Bakura has gone in a completely opposite direction since 270 and the arrival of Quinn Cundertol. After decades of steady management by Dana Roslyn (including starting the development affiliate wave and going local), Cundertol reversed course immediately. He ended the affiliation with Bison just when other Elite League teams were signing teams left and right for player development. Though he keeps tabs on the Bak10, he’s “gone out of town” instead of going local. Cundertol broke the all-human makeup of the Miners right off the bat and has had at least one non-human on every team he’s fielded. He made an unconventional hire in Gaeriel Valerii, who had zero head coach experience prior to 271. And, against the odds with a 3-4 team, he won a Galactic Cup in two years. Then his Miners offensively dominated the Elite League for the next two years. Only now in his fifth year are cracks starting to show in his system.

That system is called “Cunderball” inside the Miners offices. It’s not just a clever play on words, but a recognition of the fact that Quinn Cundertol does not build teams like everyone else. According to sources in Salis D’aar, Cundertol has developed an intricate system of new stats that are ignored by most other teams. They say that’s how the Miners made the playoffs in 271 and how they overcame a terrible defense to take the Commissioner’s Trophy in 273. But Cundertol isn’t a number cruncher—it’s his uncanny powers of observation when it comes to scouting that ferret out the false leads by uncovering players with fundamental problems in their game that are masked in the college game.

Cundertol is also unapologetic about getting the players he wants. With no development affiliate to keep happy with talent, Cundertol trades away low draft picks like they’re candy in order to get into the first round. He’s made the most first round draft picks of any general manager or team in the Draft (seven in four years), including taking Niskat Deenever despite her low draft ranking. It was a move that generated criticism for burning a first round draft pick, but Cundertol contended that Deenever was high on his draft chart despite HSN’s rankings. In fact, after the 274 Draft concluded, reports circled that the Senators, who picked immediately after the Miners, were strongly considering Deenever had she been available. Suddenly Cundertol didn’t look so dumb.

The lack of a development affiliate has meant that Cundertol has turned to player loans to season his rookies. He specifically ended the Bison arrangement because he felt that when players learned one system together they became too one-dimensional. Instead, farming them out to separate teams kept the team philosophy from becoming cloistered. That appeared to work offensively as the Miners had so many options and weapons in 272 and 273 that no one had a real answer for them. However, the lack of a consistent defensive system appears to be showing these days, giving fodder to those who think that the Miners’ decision not to have a development affiliate is ultimately a mistake.

THE SHOWDOWN

This week at Bakura Gardens, it’s not just two heavies who are trying to claw their way back into the competitive Solo Conference playoff bracket, it’s two systems showing down against each other. Both Gark S’rily and Quinn Cundertol are making a claim to be the most influential GM of the Kayl’hen Era. S’rily, whose career started with the Era, unquestionably has the inside track on the title. However, the Era isn’t over yet and Cunderball may yet win the day.

Falene turned off her datapad with a sigh, her breakfast finished midway through the article.

Just what Cundertol needs, Falene thought as she stood to wash her dishes, another article to stoke his ego.

---

Miners locker room, Bakura Gardens, Salis D’aar, Bakura

“If I need to tell you what today’s game means, then you have been living under a rock,” Gaeriel Valerii said pleasantly enough, “Obviously, we lose today and this season becomes more than a longshot. But here’s the deal—there’s no team I’d rather face this week than Coruscant. They’re just where we are right now. If you think Pam Korthe and her bunch of rooks aren’t worried about coming in here today, then you’ve forgotten what it means to other teams to play the Bakura Miners.

“They might be the Senators, but we’re the Miners and we are a team that everyone circles on their calendars,” Valerii continued, “We are the team that everyone loves to beat up on. And do you know why? Because they respect us. Nobody circles Corellia on their calendar. Does anyone in this room care about Corellia?” Nobody chimed in or put their hands up. “That’s right. Nobody does. But everyone cares about us.

“I know it’s hard being a team that everybody comes to play against, that everyone wants to beat up on. It happened last week. Last week’s over. Everyone in this room needs to go out there on the pitch today and play like the team that the Elite League hates. I’m not saying play dirty—I’m saying play like the team that they want to beat. Because guess what? They can’t beat that team. That’s why they want to beat it. That’s why they want those fuzzy dice hanging in their cockpit. Because if they beat that team, then it means they’re the best. And that means that in the back of their minds they doubt. Use that doubt against them.”

Valerii paused. “Everyone in this room knows that you were all specifically selected to be on this team for a reason. You are all here because you are part of a puzzle that when it’s assembled is a gigantic picture of the Galactic Cup with your name on it. That’s all. Let’s go play this game.”

“All right, let’s go blow the roof off this shwarma stand,” Alana Glencross said getting to her feet.

Falene and the rest of the team stood as well. Despite Valerii’s big speech, all Falene could think was, Let’s hold them this time Falene. Let’s just hold them and the offense can do the rest.


TAG: Jedi Gunny Tim Battershell

 

IC: Jed Ortmeyer
Thyferra

The only thing Jed could do was take another swig of the beer he had been chugging down. Here he was, former Galactic Cup champion, sitting at a bar on the outskirts of town that he frequented, not wanting to talk to anyone or do anything except sit here and try to forget how terrible a season his team was having. Earlier in the day, the Force had put up more of a fight than they had previously in the season, but still lost 18-11 to Concordia. There was never shame in losing a game like that, but when it came on the heels of two terrible games, Jed knew that things were slipping away.

What could he do at this juncture? There were four games left on the schedule for the regular season, and then the playoffs, if they could be called that. But Jed wasn’t happy about the “last place” game, which was just a money-grab move for the League by pushing out the misery of the worst teams in the league one more week for the spectacle of it all. Who would win the “’Fresher Bowl” game? At this rate, Thyferra would not just be playing in that crapper of a game, but also be going in 0-7. His career as a head coach would be over at that point, and he would probably be cut loose during the offseason, if not before then. The Force had once been this bad, but somehow Pam Korthe had turned that around in her time here. She had made this laughingstock franchise into a winner, a contender, and a force (pun intended) to be reckoned with. In her first year, with a team of rookies, washed-up veterans, and a few decent prospects, pushed the team to the top of the Premier League, followed up by a victory in the Chancellor’s Cup Tournament in 270. The team had fallen just short in the playoffs, but they might have had a chance to win the Premier League title that season. In 271, she led them into the Elite League, and did a respectable job before bowing out in the playoffs. 272 hadn’t been so hot, but she was back in the ELL. What about him? He had gone 3-4 last season with the league’s top offensive attack, and things looked peachy. Then the stretch of crap, losing one game after another with low scores. He wasn’t headed to a long career in the Elite League after this for coaching; he was washed up, old news. Jed Ortmeyer didn’t have what it took to coach here.

As he finished his beer, he thought about the game. Concordia had exploited his defense time and again, and had it not been for the decent play of backup goalie Kurta Thaar, the score would have bene even worse than it was. He liked some of the play from rookie Ganos Fama, along with the newcomer defenders Bac Longo and Vilnova Rickmond, but other than them, nothing had changed. Baul Sdent clearly was on his last legs in this game, and would most likely not survive the season at full back, Tonga Rute’s stay here looked short, and Paz and Dypral, two long-term Force players, seemed to be accepting their fates as “lifers” at this level. The midfielders had done OK, but had still be dominated. Lai Blutas seemed to be his best prospect at the position, but she was getting older, and that never boded well for a player at this level, and Sarya Dilvam seemed to have nowhere to go with the Senators having a stacked midfield. On offense, the only thing working was Malida Worody, the star Full Forward out of CorTech. She had scored 8 of Thyferra’s 11 points, giving her 11 points on the season compared to the team’s total of 18. Given that the Senators had only scored two points from that position all season, both from aging veteran Helena Forsythe, it looked increasingly likely that any breakdown for Coruscant would result in Worody being called up. How in the hell would he adjust if his only decent scorer (i.e. the only player with more than three points scored on the season) was gone? Alex Renhorn, after scoring a goal Week One, had fallen behind, and was trying to catch up, and Almert Song, who had scored his first pro goal this week, was still a rookie, and needed some time to get into the flow of starting. It was a huge mess, and Jed wondered what in the hell he could do.

There was a tinkling of the bell as the door to the bar opened, and Jed didn’t even look. A couple of people entered, and when they noticed Jed sitting at the bar, they lowered their voices. “That guy sucks,” one of them said. Jed wanted to smash them in the face in anger, but he knew to restrain himself. They were right; he wasn’t cut out for this job, apparently. Would his coaching staff even be the same when the season ended? The way he was doing, he would be out of a job really fast. Cam Veryist, a fellow ex-ELLer, seemed to be on the way out in the next week or two unless the Force started scoring. Polix Ghan, the defensive coordinator, seemed to have a bit more slack due to the number of rookies in the defensive lineup, but a target would be on his head next season if this kept up. Artie Gurvey, the Nemoidian midfielder coach, probably had the best chance of surviving. He had done well with the midfielders in his time here, and Pam liked him, so that had some pull. But, unless the midfield play improved, he would probably be looking for new employment after next season, if not sooner.

The worst thing about all this was that he had signed up for it knowing that this could happen. But he had never believed that the team would tank this badly. Where were his old stalwarts? Maff Biskis, Mychele Lysar, Zadd, Riff Persnor, Wylega Zola (now Persnor), Tank Bratter, Reena Wyley, Ortho Dyhon, Kapp Pyston? They were all with the Senators, doing great things up there. What did he have now? Nall Futter, a transplant from Wroona that Gark S’rily had brought with him? Wack Crollue, the one prospect out of the three received in the three-team trade in the 270 offseason that sent Leroy Brown to the Euceron Storm, Adanna Inviere to the Bakura Miners, and Jet Adama to the Senators, who hadn’t made it to the big show? Jam Tarpals, the Gungan goalie who had all the talent in the galaxy but was starting to look like Jayla Leed, v.2.0, a good goalie with instincts who just couldn’t stay consistent? Abli Kotraf, a washed-up veteran half back? Rainy Frantsen, the Thyferra captain half back who was about to lose her captaincy if she couldn’t keep her mind in the game? What had gone wrong here?

“Another beer,” he said to the bartender.

“Look, I’m cutting you off,” the bartender said curtly. “I know that you drink too much these days, Jed. It’s not good for your health.”

“You try coaching this crappy team and see if you don’t drink your sorrows away afterwards,” Jed replied sullenly.

“It’s just a rough patch,” the bartender replied. “I remember days when that team was always like this. They came in with a smidgeon of hope, and then lost all of that. But you’ve had better days, and they will come again. Your team may be crap right now, but you’ve got a lot of young talent. That Worody girl looks good.”

“Pam’ll probably call her up after next week if she keeps this up,” Jed said.

“What about Renhorn? Or Song?”

“Both are too young and inexperienced. They need more seasoning.”

“Isn’t that what you’re here for, though?” the bartender asked. “To give them seasoning?”

“When I feel like there’s a blaster to my head, I don’t know if they’re getting experience out of all this, or if I’m just failing them,” Jed continued.

“There will be better days,” the bartender replied. “Just go out there and win one game at a time. If you can get through this season, perhaps next year you’ll have some decent players to lean on instead of rookies. That’s how you rebuild a system.”

“Don’t talk to me of rebuilding,” Jed said. “It’s all I’m here for, isn’t it?”

“You wanted this coaching gig, so do what you can. If you get fired . . .”

“I’ll probably not find a job out there at a decent level of pro ball,” Jed said. “Maybe entry-level, but nothing above that.”

“Lots of beings make decent money coaching that way. If it’s what you want to do for the next fifteen years, you would be wise to take that opportunity if this doesn’t work out. Besides, you’ve been working this system for years. Undoubtedly someone would want to take you on as a head coach, or at least coordinator, somewhere. You don’t play and coach for the Senator organization in this era and then be left behind. That’s worth something.”

“If I had been a Head Coach then, maybe, but . . .”

“Just think about that,” the bartender said, walking away to leave Jed with these words.

Jed’s comlink then rang. He picked it up and looked at the number. What did Pam want now? “I suppose you’re calling to inform me that you’re bringing my best player up?” he asked.

“What? No,” Pam replied, taken aback. “Is it wrong to call to try and give you some motivation when you’re down?”

“What can you say that’s going to make me feel better about my predicament?”

“Nothing you probably haven’t heard before,” the Zeltron said from the other end of the line. “But stick it out, Jed. I know you can, even when you have a terrible team that can’t score, can’t get loose balls, and won’t stop points from going up on the board.”

“Look at you, you’ve got a nice cushy job up there,” Jed said, obviously bitter. “And I’m stuck with the scrubs down here.”

“Jed, I was stuck in that exact position years ago. But I stuck with it, and the players did the rest.”

“Last time I checked, you had some good players back then,” Jed said. “How many future ELL players did I coach back in 269? 270? 271? I can count over half a dozen. How many do I have now? Maybe just two or three. And only one of them may be anything near a lock, so much that she probably won’t even be here next season.”

“You mean Worody? Yeah, with Helena looking like she’s going to potentially call it quits after this season, I’ll need a Full up here. She’ll probably get the call-up sooner or later.”

“And that happens to be my best player,” Jed said. “No one else is worthy anything down here, or so it seems out on that field. You could have at least let that McKerty kid fall to me. He’d be eating these losers alive down here.”

“I think Mr. Grumpy Gills needs a hug,” Pam said in a comedic tone.

“Not helping,” Jed said.

“Eh, thought I’d give it a shot,” Pam replied. “Come on, Jed, I know you can pull through. You just have to keep working until something clicks, and go with it.”

“Easier said than done.”

“All right, I’ll make you a deal. If you win three out of your last four games on the season, I’ll do out on a date with you. Sound fair?” Pam asked.

Jed ran this over in his mind. Hm, he wouldn’t mind going out for a night on the town with Pam . . . yeah, he could do this.

“All right. Three wins?” Jed asked.

“Three wins,” Pam replied. “There’s your motivation, so get out there and win a few. The last thing I want to keep hearing is you moping, got it?”

“Understood,” Jed said. He cut the connection, feeling somehow better about all this. Now he had some motivation to work with. All he needed to do was win three games out of the next four, a tall order, but his team had some talent. It was time to see what all they had.


TAG: No One , although I think jcgoble3 and Trieste will get a kick out of this.

 

IC: Cord McKerty
Bakura Gardens, Bakura

Cord sat in the locker room along with his 29 teammates as they waited for coach Pamila Korthe to give her pre-game speech. This was it, his first Senatorial Showdown matchup against Bakura. Growing up on Coruscant, he had seen quite a few of these tilts. What had once been a Bakura-dominated series in up to about age 10 had suddenly become possibly the most bitter and intense rivalry the Elite League had to offer. Sure the Black and Blue Battle had its moments, the Burgandy and Green Brawl was nice, as was the Rim War. But nothing had been like Senators-Miners ever since 262. Epic game-winning scores, hard-hitting action, and an intense hatred for the rival team that drew sharp lines in between the two fanbases. Yes, this was the best game the Senator schedule could offer. This was the big game, no matter the record of the teams.

Cord looked around the room at the other gray-clad players. There were the stars, the leaders of the show, the veterans who had been here for a long time. Jerek Deter, Alysha Romax, Izzi Polakaya, Max Qorbus, Riff Persnor. They were the big-name stars who were leading the charge. But any true fan knew that a team was not made by the names that comprised the roster, but by the content of their character. Even a role player, if given a chance to shine, could achieve greatness and immortality no star could ever hope to achieve. Perhaps this was his destiny. Perhaps Cord McKerty was meant to go onto greatness not as a captain, as a league-leading scorer, or even as an All-Star. Maybe, just maybe, he was an integral cog in the machine, a piece that once removed would prove difficult to replace. Perhaps he was the right role player for the job, and who would get his fifteen minutes of fame in this role.

His eyes then turned to the role players, the reserves, the players who, like him, were going to be just that, bit players in the grand play that was Limmie. Without them, without him, there was no team. Yes their names would be forgotten to history, because when one thought about the 262 and 268 Galactic Cup-winning Senator squads, who remembered the names Jed Ortmeyer, Corshisha, or Velay Corvis? Yet, without them, without the role players who did great things, those teams would not have won those Cups. And now these role players that sat alongside Cord on the bench were in the same boat, those who would have their names lost to the discussions of great players, but whom were indispensable to the overall effort. And he was one of them, ready to do their part in this game.

Finally Pam showed up, and the locker room fell silent. The Zeltron flipped through a few notes before addressing her team. “We’ve been here before,” she started. “And, many times, we’ve lost. This venue is not easy to play in, nor is the team that resides here. But I don’t need to remind you of why we look forward to this game every season. It is not just because of the rivalry, but because we know that the Bakura Miners are ready to knock us down a peg every time we meet. We need to be ready and take the fight to them today. They come in 1-3, and need a conference win. A win here would push us to 3-2, and would sink their ship a little bit more. The playoffs are not on the line as of yet, but every win helps. I know that we are in for a tough game today, but since when have games at this level been easy? We have the talent, the guts, the heart, to compete out here today for 60 minutes, or maybe even more. They have a good offense that’s been shut down the last two weeks. Let’s keep them on that pace, shutting them down at every possible turn. Clog the passing lanes, stonewall ‘em inside, and make them throw low-percentage shots that can be cleared and taken the other way. Their defense is suspect at best. We need to keep up the pressure so that they will break. We have a good offense, and should be able to make things happen if we play our game. Midfield, I need you four to run like hell out there, and to be physical. If we play our game, and don’t back down, we can win.”

As the team readied to file out of the locker room, Cord knew that he was nervous. After all, he was a rookie going into his first Showdown game. The Rim War had been intense, but that had been in friendly confines. This one wasn’t; it was anything but. He could feel some tightness in his chest as he waited to get out onto the field, so he tried to ward it off. But those around him could tell that he was nervous. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. Reena Wyley stood next to him.

“Nervous?” she asked.

“Kinda,” Cord replied. “First game here.”

“You’ll get over it,” Reena replied. This was her season debut after rehabbing from a torn hamstring in the friendly against Empress Teta a few months earlier. To make room for her on the roster, Griff Hakuna, a corner back, had been optioned to Thyferra, where he could possibly shore up the defense down there. If Ganos was right, then Hakuna should have an impact. Maybe not a large one, but at this point, anything was better than doing nothing like the Force had been doing thus far. “I guarantee you that the jitters will go away within fifteen minutes. Now, stress, I can’t guarantee you anything. Depends on how we do today.”

“I’d settle for a drier game than last week,” Cord replied. Last week’s slopfest hadn’t been fun.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” Reena said. “Now, get out there and show ‘em what you’ve got.”

“Wyley!” came the voice of Palla Tyroti, the defensive coordinator. “How many you think you can log out there today?”

“Twenty minutes?” Reena guessed. “Doc told me not to go over that cap.”

“I’ll hold you to fifteen max,” Palla replied. “Don’t want you getting hurt out there if I can help it. We’re gonna need you down the stretch off that bench.”

“Just fifteen?” Cord asked as Palla walked to the front of the line.

“It’s my first week back. No need to rush it,” Reena replied.

Then the team exited the tunnel, and Cord’s jitters got even worse. This was going to be a tough game, he could tell. As he settled into the bench area, the symptoms got a little better, but the feeling was still there that he didn’t want to be here. Something about this game felt . . . off, like it was a trap game. But the only thing he could worry about was himself.

---

IC: Gark S’rily

Gark settled into his seat in the visiting team’s box at the Gardens along with his family, Londy Whiste, and two other high-ranking Senator officials. Gark had a funny feeling about this game. Of course, being a former coach, he got these about every game, but this one in particular. It probably had to do with the crappy games the Miners had played the last two weeks. This felt like a trap, and Gark knew that walking out of here with a win would be an accomplishment in itself.

“Think we have a chance today?” Londy asked.


“We always do,” Gark replied. “It just depends on how our defense does against their offense. If we can shut them down there, we should be able to score enough points to win. However, then again, this is a rivalry game, and it’s their home turf, so they’re going to want to defend it to the bitter end. We have to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

TAG: Trieste , although he's already posted for this game

 

IC: '????' - Somewhere on Agamar

Emerging from where The Shrine could be accessed (a closet), himself was tired but pleased. It had taken a number of hours of hard work, but The Machine was now able to perform its function without risk of a mishap; or so said the sensors and simulations. Himself, and indeed, himself had always hated mishaps having to do with The Machine; they usually required so much cleaning up afterwards!

The Master had been very interested in the report, commending himself for paying attention to wider, seemingly spontaneous, events that might assist in bringing The Plan to fruition without further recourse to The Machine; but nevertheless recommending that The Machine should be used at least once more as a safeguard. That would now require himself to make a very detailed recording, which could, fortunately, be done while himself slept. Then Himself would have to educate and train himself; ultimately letting himself into the minutiae of The Plan. Himself could only hope himself would not prove to be as difficult an apprentice as himself had been, all those years ago; despite the importance of The Plan, himself had no real desire to inflict punishment on himself.

Whether The Master was still flesh-and-blood, or was now some form of artificial intelligence, neither himself nor Himself had ever known. An artificial intelligence was possible, a Holo-recording, or Holo-shroud, could perfectly recreate the appearance of The Master; but himself sincerely doubted any AI could replicate the sheer presence which himself felt whenever The Master appeared. Flesh-and-blood was not impossible either; after all, The Machine had been quietly renewing himself for nearly three centuries; so another Machine (or Machines) somewhere in the Galaxy would be the only requirement. Himself knew the Galaxy was very large - even though himself had never been beyond a standard parking-orbit away from Agamar (it wasn't that travel to any destination in the Galaxy was forbidden; just that the demands of performing both open and clandestine work had always denied himself the time).

Going into orbit, just the once, had been an experience; if a dull, routine, but very necessary one. A ground-to-orbit Charter-Shuttle had lifted from Calna Muun Spaceport, docked with an incoming Starship and returned with a passenger (himself) who had then gone through 'Arrivals' in the normal manner; to be met by 'his Uncle'. The hardest part about it had been sneaking aboard the Shuttle in the first place, but the lax security in the Spaceport's Public areas (the only time that changed was during a beinghunt) and judicious use of makeup, prosthetics and props had turned it into scarcely more than a game. It did help that the Charter-Shuttle company had been wholly owned by Himself (now it was owned by himself) through off-world front-companies that had been set up by The Prime (they turned a tidy profit too); and the pilot had been recruited on the basis that he was only one infraction away from being permanently blacklisted from any form of work, let alone paid work. When the pilot was found dead a couple of weeks later (cause of death listed as substance overdose) it had caused very little surprise. The pilot had taken the secret of who had supplied that 'hot-shot' into death with him. Neat and tidy! No loose ends!

It was no surprise at all (it had been widely circulated before himself 'arrived' on Agamar) that the 'nephew' went to work for the 'Uncle' in the latter's primary concern; where himself had risen rapidly, but not too rapidly, to the number two position; taking over completely when the old man 'retired'. It was also no surprise that everything had been Willed to himself when the 'Uncle' finally died (of old age, and indisputably so!) one standard year later. The bytework was all in order, so the transfer went through as smooth as shimmersilk; helmed (coincidentally) by the self-same Private Attorneys that the Dodds had always used for civil matters.

Himself had heard that the latest of the Dodd line (someone had taken the precautionary step of filing both his parents genetic data with the Agamarian Records Office, so Dodd had been able to establish indisputable Title to the family holdings almost immediately upon arrival - a fine opportunity for some mischief wasted there!) had been having some thoughts about starting or acquiring a Limmie team; but young Dodd had the got the news that the Packers were about to be put up for sale from someone else first. In view of young Dodd's (now evident) connection with the Sturm family, he had probably got that information from young Georg Sturm. Not that it really mattered, even (more precisely, especially) after the Packers' unexpected elevation to the Elite League; Premier League teams were not given all that much Galactic Media coverage and/or scrutiny, Elite League sides were! Someone, somewhere in the Galaxy, might have noticed a resemblance, and that would have brought unwanted attention far to close. So, in addition to breaking the attachment (the better to concentrate on The Plan), the sale of the Packers had also improved security for himself!


TAG: No One

 

OOC / OOG: Sorry about the Double-Tap again; needed to get this up.

IC: Tim Dodd - Packers' Team Shuttle, Calna Muun Spaceport (on Final Approach).

Tim and Oleg had left the Noble House Box, Bakura Gardens and Bakura itself as soon as they decently could. Tim could only mumble apologies in reply to being spoken to, but he didn't miss the Supreme Chancellor's final remark, or its meaning! Nor did he miss the significance of the plethora of empty seats now visible from his position.

When the Shuttle had made the jump to Lightspeed, Oleg had told Tim; "Well, at least we dodged the Media, thank the Force for small mercies!"

"You may have things to learn about the Media, and the Sports variety in particular, Oleg! No, if they weren't bothering us on Bakura, they'd very likely already left - which almost certainly means that we'll have an even bigger circus to deal with back home on Agamar! They'll want to find the best Holo-cam angle, the best lighting and shop around for every 'local reaction' they can get hold of from the time they touch down to the time we do! To think that only just over a week ago I was thinking that defeating a big-name side with a massive Limmie reputation, and have the Packers labelled a 'Dragon Slayer' team, would be a good thing! A case of 'be careful what you wish for, you just might get it'!

Asyr! What's the Limmie term for a score of zero against a lot? Ah! A 'Blowout'! Thanks!

Blowouts are a big deal in sports, Oleg, Force only knows when the Miners last suffered one - and they topped their Conference last Season! They also scored the most Points, let in the fewest and were fourth on aggregate out of the entire League! I only hope the Agamar/Bakura relationship we were starting to develop isn't now a 'blowout' as well!"

A call to the pilot confirmed his fears, not only was Calna Muun Spaceport swarming with Media-beings and their Shuttles but the Agamarian Council had ordered the place decorated with both sets of Packers' Colours, the Yellow and Green and the Black and Grey. Not satisfied with that, the Council had also brought out of storage, and dusted off, its one-and-only open-topped Speeder-bus!

"Talk about going over the top"; Tim grumped to Oleg; "it's only a mid-season game, and the Council are treating it like we just won the Cup!"

Tim wished he could have met the missing, Limmie-playing, Trieste, Miss Falene, if only for a few minutes. If she did but realise it, she (with contributions from those two Forwards) had been the bright star of the whole game for the Miners. That would give her some status in the Locker Room, enough - if she had anything of her mother's gift for inspirational oratory - to lift her team and get them to put today's match behind them then look forward towards powering their way through the rest of the season. He knew from TenGate that runs of poor player, or even team, luck/form (call it what you will) never lasted, and the best antidote was to play your way out of it. He'd been excluded for an aquavian, or hammered all over the grid, often enough to know!

As the flight went on (and on), Tim's Datapad kept beeping softly with incoming results: the Lightning down to the Senators 16-20, the Smugglers down to the C-Bucs 16-33, bottom-of-Conference Corellia Rebels chalking up an 11-7 win over the Monarchs, next week's opponents Euceron Storm down 9-32 to the Chandrilla Patriots; then another shock result, the Mercs blownout 0-34 Points at the Starkillers! That meant that every team in the Skywalker Conference bar the Rebels and his Packers had lost this week!

Tim indulged in a little mental advance-planning for (part of what would effectively be a State Visit) the occasion of the return match against the Miners, next Season. The Noble House would definitely have to see the Council Chambers - that was Agamarian craftbeingship at its best, and a wonder in its own right. Then the meal, with (considering how much drink they apparently liked to put away) plenty of the best Binka Wine available! Perhaps a just-pre-match demonstration of a forced-entry hostage-rescue by the Tactical Assault Unit (using safe 'play-weapons' so not to get the Senatorial Guard nervous - would any of the Noble House's younger members like to act the part of a hostage, so to get a real insider's view of the action?) including brodcasting of the tactical comlink transmissions over the Stadium's Sound System. The TAU didn't usually 'play' even in front of their fellow Agamarians, but he could probably sell it to Oleg on the basis that a show-and-tell would make proto-criminals have a real think about their future conduct! Then the game; followed by the presentation of a craftbeing-carved, bas-relief, plaque featuring the Miners' logo to finish off the visit.

He was just about to doze off when the Datapad beeped again. Had someone lost their mind? Corrie Andersen, the Corner Forward that had had the courage to take a shot at Goal from close to where Baraduc (a not-so-cuddly Barabel) was standing, on the Trading Block? Tim nudged Oleg and showed him the feed, with a quick explanation of who Corrie Andersen was;

"Because they were defeated, do you think?"

"I'm very much afraid so! And it might get worse yet!"

What he was referring to was his first Season as a member of his TenGate team's Committee. Unfit to play after damaging his knee (his leg had gone out from under him while chasing a ball in a damp and slippery area of the Outer Rim) he'd first assisted the Coach and Manager, then taken over from them when they retired, as a pro-tem measure. When permanent replacements were found, he'd accepted elevation to the Committee as a means of still being a part (if a now-distant one) of the team he'd first played in then Captained.

The first two matches were wins, narrow, but still wins. Then the rot set in, losses followed by key resignations followed by more losses and more resignations. By the end of the Season the team not only had empty trophy-cabinets but scarcely enough players to make up a side.

Through the Season Tim had been hearing rumbles about discontent in the Changing Room; not from his own former team-mates but from contacts he had built up with members of other teams. They talked about a reign of fear, with players being deselected for no good reason, told to resign after ludicrous allegations and forbidden from talking to any Committee Member on penalty of instant dismissal and blacklisting. The culprit was the Manager (aided by the Coach) who seemed to want to micromanage every aspect of each game from beyond the Margin-rope, including what strokes to play while at the Gate and what type of deliveries to Hurl ball-by-ball! Any deviation from instructions resulting in deselection, at the very least.

As the Committee was a collective-decision body, he couldn't take direct action himself, only try to raise the matter at the periodic meetings; where his peers seemed more interested in re-living their own exploits with Club and ball and/or sending the Stewards off for 'just one more snifter!' than listening to the litany of defeats (and trophies lost with them).

Eventually, some ex-players (now reasonably safe in regular positions with other teams) did agree to talk about what had happened to them. For safety's sake, affidavits were written out verbatim by one of their new colleagues and witnessed by two more. Armed with them, Tim awaited the final Committee Meeting of the Season, where he first sent the Stewards to fetch the remaining contents of the trophy-cabinets (numbering no more than eight, and only still there because those particular competitions had not been held for a decade or more), had them plonked onto the table then handed each of his peers one of the affidavits to read and pass around. Then he dropped his bombshell! Season Ticket holders were swearing-off buying those tickets, due to the situation, and so depriving the team of its bread-and-butter operating revenue! At last, he got his point across and the rump of still active players were called before the Committee one-by-one to be interviewed - then told to go directly home for the rest of the day and speak to no-one about team matters until otherwise directed.

Tim felt no elation as the damning testimony mounted up; nor when the Manager and Coach were summoned for their own interviews. The attempted justification that it was just a few disgruntled ex-players collapsed in the face of the current team member evidence and both were told to clear out their belongings, leave a resignation letter in the Secretary's Inbox on their way out and never return - not even as paying Spectators.

Against the odds, the team survived. Tim's old Captain took a leave of absence from being an Arbiter to take over the Manager's role and the old Coach came out of retirement. The next Season was rocky, having to rapidly integrate a number of fresh, young, players into the squad didn't help, but there were wins and a couple of trophies at the end of it. The Season after that, better, with far more consistency and more silverware; and the third (the Season Tim left his birthworld to return to Agamar) almost back to normal.

That (and the team's original culture where a quiet word - and extra training in 'the right way' to do things - sufficed) was Tim's reason for intensely disliking sackings, resignations or use of the Trading Block.

Tim really hoped that the Miners wouldn't get trapped in that sort of negative spiral, but wasn't encouraged - especially by this latest news. He'd put down his initial negative impression of Mr Cundertol as being a snapshot glimpse of a man with major concerns; had he, for instance, just had a 'frank transfer of view' (political-speak for a blazing dressing-down) on the subject of his mouth - specifically, keeping his foot out of it? Not that his actual words had been that inflammatory, more how they had been delivered! Now, though, it also appeared that he had a problem with his knee - keeping it from jerking in response to a setback, and against the wrong target, too! The Miners' Forward Line had got just the one ball all match, and taken two shots with it, both on target, but both blocked - to his mind, no fault there. The Midfield? His Noghri players had proved, time and again, that they were a real handful for any non-Noghri to deal with (except a trained Force User, and those weren't allowed to play League Limmie) - as the post match demonstration of their, rarely seen, unarmed combat skills (the entire species were still deeply ashamed of having been duped into serving Palpatine's Empire as assassins in the Dark Times) had attempted to show; and (so far as he knew) Cachbarukh and Kahr'maim were the only two Noghri playing Limmie for anyone. Tim felt that Mr Cundertol would have been better served to have sent his recruiters out looking for some Noghri players for the Miners Midfield! How about the Defense, then? The 'bounce-kicking' attack was virtually impossible to defend against once the ball was up in the air, as the Monarchs had found out to their surprise last week. There was only one possible counter, in fact, but neither Monarchs nor Miners seemed to have recognised it! Neither team had tried to implement it!

By contrast, he'd really liked the Noble House members that he'd met. They were charming, particularly the Supreme Chancellor.

Catching Aysyr's eye, Tim showed her the news-feed and asked her to keep an eye on where Ms Andersen ended up, with a view to recruiting her as a roving talent-scout if no one picked up her contract at the end of the Season. Her Galactic Cup experience would also be very useful if the Packers ever reached those dizzy heights. He also asked Asyr to keep an eye on any other Miners' player that appeared to be being similarly treated and to bring their names to his attention. A good squad of experienced-at-high-level Limmie Trainers for the Academicals wouldn't come amiss, not when they could double as Packers Reserves/players too!

He'd have to have a quiet word with Asyr about what to do if the, admittedly rare, situation of winning by a 'blowout' ever occurred again - with his apprentice team he'd simply never entertained the possibility that the Packers could ever be on the sunny side of a 'blowout'; and so had been completely unprepared for it. He'd now found that it was embarrassing and somewhat shameful, particularly to someone brought up on TenGate ethics; where the name of the sport was also a synonym for an epitome of fair play and sportsbeingship. Another thought; he'd been gifted a Jedi weapon, so shouldn't he be acting as closely in accord with Jedi ethics as he could to honour both the blade(s) and the giver?

Reminiscing, and thinking-up responses to the Media questions that would inevitably be fired at him on arrival, had used up a good part of the remaining time. There was no point in trying to sleep now. So Euceron - what did the GA&E have to say about that? The system, he saw, lay right on the Parlemian, about two Navi-comp checkpoints Coreward from the Wheel; so the best route would be down the Braxant Run to Bandomeer, along the Hydian to Botajef, transit the Salin Corridor, then back Coreward along the Parlemian. Not much in the way of data on the planet, though, even Agamar had more of an entry than this! Just some blurb about it having been a smuggling and illegal activity hotspot during the final years of the Old Republic, nothing more recent than that! Well, they'd find out, but he'd ask Oleg for some TAU backup on this one again, just in case!

Then they were landing (the Shuttle would hop into the ASF area again as soon as the Packers had disembarked) and the size of the crowd was worse than Tim had feared! It looked like every being in Calna Muun and its surrounding area had turned-out to welcome the team home!

Tim led the team to the podium and waited while they lined up behind him; then the questions started;

"Mr Dodd, what did you think of Bakura?"

"I bring back lasting memories of a beautiful city, a beautiful planet, a friendly people and the most generous of all possible welcomes!"

"Mr Dodd, the Miners have not suffered a blowout in a very long time, certainly not under the current General Manager; yet your Packers have done just that to them! Would you care to comment on that, please?"

"Statistical blips happen in all sports. I've had them happen to me while playing TenGate; getting Hurled out for under a hundred Taps then finding that none of our Hurlers could make much impression - but when that team hosted us later in the Season; we did exactly the same to them!"

"Mr Dodd, can you tell us what you talked about with Supreme Chancellor Trieste?"

"If we discussed anything at all, it was as two private individuals who have an interest in their respective Limmie teams and share a common interest in the sport."

"Mr Dodd, first Quinn Cundertol lays into Ylesia Lightning over their recruitment policy, then he trades away one of his most prolific scorers; do you think he should be dismissed?"

"That is an internal matter for the Miners. If I held an opinion or opinions I wished to express, it or they would be expressed privately."

"Mr Dodd, how do you rate the Packers' chances in the League? Is it your intention to match Ylesia Lightning's achievement and win the Galactic Cup in your first Season?"

"The Packers are serving their Elite League Apprenticeship this Season and are taking things match-by-match; as I am. For my part, I'll be happy if the team does well enough to book their place in the Elite League for next Season. Anything more than that will be a welcome bonus!"

"Mr Dodd, can you tell us how the investigation into the drugging incident is going?"

"It's now a matter of painstaking Police and Forensic work, but somewhere in the evidence; something that was collected in the first three days; lies the case-breaking clue or lead - its always in there and from that time period."

Here he turned to look, and talk, directly at the camera, instead of at the questioner - as he had been doing up to then said;

"Did you hear that? Evidence pointing directly to you exists and will be found, it's only a matter of time! Enjoy your last remaining taste of freedom while you still have it; because ASF will be banging on your door - perhaps sooner than you think!"

Turning back to the assembled reporters, he continued

"Sorry, but it's been rather a long flight back from Bakura, and the team will need to be training for our weekend encounter with Euceron Storm first thing in the morning. So, if you'll please excuse us all....

He ushered the team over to the Speeder-bus. Escorted by a swarm of ASF Patrol Cruisers, Emergency Lights flashing, the Speeder-bus took a zigzag route through Calna Muun then (leaving the ASF Cruisers at the shoreline - where their assigned task was to turn the curious, and stray Media, back) it headed out over the Bil Da'Gari on a deceptive course to the Packers training camp.

TAG: Trieste

 

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Banker's Mansion Cambrielle, Ralltiir

34-0. The numbers hung there, glowing on the scoreboard, mocking Taab. He had planned on using this mid-season road trip as a way to get away from politics, away from the demands of the various clans and truly enjoy himself. That plan had been ruined by the Ralltiir players, or rather just a single player. Galaxy Defender. Such a ridiculous moniker, and an even more ridiculous ego, he would have made a fine Mandalorian. But in this game he was the instrument of their defeat.

On the very first play the Mercs offense managed to break down the Starkillers defense rather easily, only to be denied by the man in goal. He kicked the ball out and down field to a waiting midfielder who pushed the ball further into the offensive zone before the Mercs defense could even react. That had resulted in three points for the Starkillers, and it was a pattern that would repeat itself throughout the game. A good possession, marked by good positioning and strong passing on offense wasted by the amazing play of the Starkillers goaltender, which in turn led to easy transition points by the Starkillers. By halftime the game was already out of reach, and a fuming Vizsla benched the starters in an attempt to send a message about their lackadaisical defensive play.

The reserves fared no better though as the Starkillers racked up point after point and Galaxy Defender blocked shot after shot. To Taab it felt like the pre-season game against Bakura all over again, all though at least that match had least started competitively. This was just embarrassing. Taab watched the bluster of the Starkillers all star caliber goaltender. The Mandalorian would be doing the rest of the league a favor if he had the man...disappeared. In fact Taab was sure the other owners and players around the league would rejoice if Galaxy Defender met with some sort of season ending "accident."

With a snarl under his buy'ce Taab rejected the idea. He was sure that conniving little Bothan Kay'lhen would launch an investigation and Taab had enough on his plate without having to deal with the commissioner of the league. One day he would have to eliminate her too he was sure, and replace her with someone more...malleable, but for now his concern was on the Mercs season.

From experience Taab knew it was too early to watch the standings, anything could and did happen in this game. Still, knowing you were in the hunt was much better then knowing your season was a lost one before it was even halfway over. At the start of conference play they stood 2-2, bunched up in the middle of the standings and still in the playoff hunt. The team had issues, at times the defense was worse than leaky, it was downright porous, and the offense was having trouble scoring points. They were 2-0 at home, but 0-2 on the road, and their next three games were on the road. Worse yet their next match was against the defending Cup champion Lightning.

This would be a tough few weeks, weeks that would either make or break their season, weeks that could very well determine whether or not he could distract the clans any longer from their calls to war. He knew that such a war was inevitable, he welcomed it himself, but they still didn't know who it was he should declare war on. He hoped Ryi and Kote's investigation would start bearing fruit soon, he wasn't sure how much more time they, or he, had.

---

]/hr]

[COLOR=#ff0000][B]IC: Ryi Kor'le[/B][/COLOR]
[COLOR=#ff0000][B][I]Oyu'baat[/I] cafe, Keldabe, [I]manda'yaim[/I].[/B][/COLOR]

Ryi sat alone in the booth, regarding the stew in front of her. It was said that the stew here had been left simmering for centuries, with new ingredients added daily. From the looks of her meal, Ryi believed it, but it was just for show, she had no intention of eating it. Instead she checked the chrono in the lower left corner of her HUD, Kote was late.

Upon their return to [I]manda'yaim[/I] they had split up, she had gone to the local bounty hunter's guild office and garnered as much information as she could regarding the twi'lek bounty hunter Bliznetsi. While she had done that, Kote was meeting with the head of the Protectors and receiving an update on their forensic investigation. They planned to meet back here to compare note and then decide on their next move.

Her investigation had born some fruit, at least enough to get things moving again, but she had to wait for Kote to arrive first. A quick search through Guild records had shown that Bliznetsi was quite active, taking on a large number of minor jobs in Bakuran space over the past few years. This was followed by a job out on Corellia last year, but there the trail grew cold. The twi'lek hadn't had any Guild work for the past year, though there was a rumor he had been spotted on Ord Sabaok, taking advantage of the planet's many clubs and casinos. Ryi wanted to move now, but she had to wait for Kote.

A ruckus at the bar caught her attention. Most of the others here were watching the Mercs/Starkillers game on the holo-sets suspended from the ceiling. From the looks of things the game was not going well, and the patrons here were getting restless. She hoped Kote would hurry up. As much as she liked fighting, she didn't want to get caught up in an incident here.

Her hopes were answered as she saw the armored visage of Kote enter the cafe, making his way towards her. [COLOR=#808000]"This seat taken?"[/COLOR] he asked mirthfully as he plopped down.

[COLOR=#ff0000]"You're late."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=#808000]"Awww you missed me."[/COLOR] seeing that she wasn't in a pleasant mood though he removed his [I]buy'ce[/I] and got down to business. He wasn't worried about being recognized, his back was to the other patrons who were still jeering at the holo-screens. [COLOR=#808000]"Talked shop with the Protectors. Good people, but they are playing things real close to the [I]beskar'gam[/I]."[/COLOR] Ryi made a motion with her hand, a gesture to hurry up and get on with things. [COLOR=#808000] "Security holos show a twi'lek in Mandalorian armor near the balcony before the explosion. Their head tails tend to make them...stick out."[/COLOR] He stuck his tongue out at her as she rolled her eyes behind her T-Visor.

[COLOR=#808000]"DNA evidence on the bomb fragments is consistent with twi'lek DNA, but it's badly degraded, not enough for a match, or even enough to be sure that it is twi'lek, but it's something."[/COLOR]

Ryi mulled things over for a moment, it looked like they were on the right track. [COLOR=#808000]"You going to eat that?"[/COLOR] A quick shake of her head later and Kote was scarfing down her bowl of hot stew while she filled him in on what she had found. [COLOR=#808000]"So,"[/COLOR] Kote said around a mouthful of chewy nerf chunks, [COLOR=#808000]"We head to Ord.."[/COLOR] but he was cut off as shouts and the sounds of pushing and shoving came from the bar.

Glancing over they saw a fight breaking out among those who had imbibed too much of the [I]Oyu'batt's[/I] home brew. The drinking combined with the Mercs poor showing and the current political situation was proving too much for some to take. [COLOR=#ff0000]"Time to go."[/COLOR] Kote agreed and threw on his bucket. They then made a tactical withdrawal (a Mandalorian never retreats) from the cafe before the fight spread to where they had been seated.

[COLOR=#808000]"I didn't get a chance to finish my stew"[/COLOR] Kote remarked as soon as they were out on the street.

[COLOR=#ff0000]"Shut up buckethead, we have work to do. On Ord Sabaok."[/COLOR]

[hr]

ooc: and now a bonus!

IC: Aay'han Vhett
Thyferra

Vhett steepled her hands before her as she watched the game play out between the Crusaders and the Force. With Taab watching the Mercs on Ralltiir she had used the opportunity to see how their developmental team was doing. In a word she was...pleased. Despite their struggles thus far this season the force was a good team, not so long removed from playing in the ELL themselves, and they
were putting up quite the fight. Their reserve goaltender in particular and done well in slowing down the Crusader's offensive attack.

But the Crusaders were far too much for the beleaguered team. Mereel and Soker played well off of one another and managed to score 6 points apiece. Mereel had bolstered his own stat sheet with 3 assists as well, while Soker had managed two. They would both be ready to compete for a roster spot next season on the Mercs, especially given the upcoming rosterpocalypse. Hopefully one of the pair would pan out.

On the defensive end things went well, though Vhett would have expected a better showing against a Force team that had struggled to put points on the board thus far this season. No one there stood out just yet, though the Mercs GM at least saw progress. At midfield, Horonel was showing signs of promise, he had two turnovers (while coughing one up of his own) to go along with his own assist. The young human had talent, but it was raw and needed refinement. Another season or two here with the Crusaders and he would be an option for the Mercs though. Looking over the roster and upcoming contract situations Vhett hoped she could wait that long for him to develop.

She checked in on the Mercs score. 15-0 at halftime. Not good, at this rate that match would be a loss. That would put the team at 2-2, in playoff contention, but certainly nothing was assured just yet. The team could collapse. As the GM she was caught between The Maw and a hard place. So many players were possibly coming off the roster, next year would almost certainly be a rebuilding one for the team. Should she go for broke and trade away future assets in an attempt to win now? Or should she trade away veterans in an attempt to stock up future assets for next season and beyond? It was a difficult decision, the trade deadline was upcoming and while most teams usually stayed pat, her unique situation was forcing her to at least try to make a move.

In the end she decided she would go for a middle of the road stance. Put some minor players on the block and see what she could get for them. Either assets for this year or for next. She doubted any of the other teams in the league would bite, but she could try, and if in the end she stayed pat, well she would be satisfied with that too.

The second half of the Mercs game was starting now, and by checking the box score Vhett could see that Vizsla had replaced the entire starting lineup. Well at least she would get a chance to evaluate them against starting talent now. Closing her eyes she realized how tired she was. Maybe she would wait to look at the final stats until she returned back to manda'yaim. Judging by how that game was going, she was sure she wouldn't miss anything.

TAG: No one really.

 

IC: Tim Dodd - Packers' Team Shuttle, Eusebus Spaceport, Euceron.

It had been a busy week for Tim. The re-jigged design for what he was tentatively calling the 'Agamar Oval' had come back from the planning team and was now approved. A true oval, it's interior measurements had been set at 210 metres (long axis) by 165 metres, which would accommodate both the Limmie pitch and proposed TenGate matches (the Margin-rope set 85 metres from the furthest Gate) with ease. It probably wouldn't even be necessary to dismantle the Limmie Goals for TenGate matches, they could be folded back into permanently-cut slots behind the goal-line, then covered over.

Ranging back from pitch level (set well below true ground level, so not to be an eyesore or interfere with the Spaceport) would be a very wide bank of seating, broken only by the entrances to the players' tunnels, with a three further tiers of seating bringing the capacity up to 500,000. While over the top of the whole Stadium would soar a flying-arch (another reason for reducing the overall height).

Functional, as well as decorative, the arch was to be made of transparisteel and would be oriented to the solar path during the Agarmarian Summer; it would act both as a wave-guide for a rain-blocking forcefield dome and as a track for one or more 'artificial' light sources (although they would be tuned to the exact spectrum of Agamar's sun). Night-time Limmie matches would therefore be illuminated as if they were taking place at noon in Summer, TenGate matches would never be stopped by bad light and the forcefield would also prevent them being affected by rain. The forcefield would, of course, be entirely superfluous in regard to Limmie matches. Hopefully, the Stadium would be complete (at least for Limmie matches, any TenGate matches would have to wait until a pool of sufficiently skilled players had been recruited and trained) for the opening game of the 275 Season.

So the League were holding an 'All Stars' match at the end of the Season, and (as Owner), he had to make recommendations for those teams? Interesting! The Bakurans Rodders and Trieste had impressed him (and under extremely adverse circumstances), so their names would almost certainly feature, maybe Andersen too, if she was still match-fit - but one League player he'd seen would certainly not! Nothing to do with skill, but for another reason!

Euceron had turned out to be rather nicer than the picture painted by the GA&E, at least from the Shuttle viewport! None of the Packers would be going into town, so whether it was still as depicted in the older parts would remain an unknown. Eusebus looked like it was somewhat larger than Calna Muun - say in the order of 200,000 beings - and seemed to be growing outwards rather than up (echoing Calna Muun there - one of the reasons why the Council were keen to get their hands on Memorial Stadium; they saw Credits to be made redeveloping it into a residential district)!

There were, however, two major differences; firstly the temperature, it was bitterly cold as measured by the cockpit instrumentation and secondly there were piles of material (some almost pristine white, others getting progressively darker to a mud-brown or even black colour). It was snow - which neither his birthworld or Agamar saw much of, except towards their polar areas. As most beings were likely to chose the best possible climate for their Capital (how Calna Muun had been established, way back when, and on a coastline into the bargain) that argued for large seasonal weather variations. Nor had he seen much evidence of seas or lakes on the way in to land.

At least the Stadium was close by; and, Force be thanked, it had a roof! The team disembarked and gingery made their way there, where he was quick to head for the comforting warmth of the Visiting Owner's Box, and the team lost no time in seeking the same in their Locker Room.

TAG: jcgoble3

 

GM Post

What We Learned: Week 4
From HSN Sports

Periodically throughout the course of the season, we’ll be giving updates on all 12 ELL teams with all the snark we can muster.

Agamar Packers: First year teams do not shut out Big Four teams on the road. And they do not score 36 points against said team. So clearly we're dreaming right now. And that must mean when our boss told us that we had to come into work this weekend, that was just a dream too. See you on the beaches this weekend!

Bakura Miners: Often times people overreact in the Elite League. However, when Aron Rodders gets completely shut out, it's time to freak out.

Chandrila Patriots: At 3-1, the Patriot Nation is already planning the victory parade route through Hanna. After all, they did fantastically in Solo Conference play last season so this one's in the bag. Oh wait, I'm sorry, by "fantastically" I meant "1-4".

Coruscant Senators: Now that's a win that the Senator can hang their hats on. Their new players stepped up and gutted out a win. I bet that Senators fans are so glad they won this game against Ylesia and not that one last year.

Euceron Storm: So, remember that whole hey-let's-not-care-about-defense-and-just-outscore-everybody plan? Yeah...spoiler alert...

Hapes Consortium Buccaneers: Here's why Moira Mallory is a baller--she acquired 272's Ms. Irrelevant Honey Ryder who was stuck in the Miners' development system behind the Glencross/North combo for credits after two years of seasoning on Cloud City courtesy of the Mighty Quinn. And now Ryder has the best point differential in the League. Yeah, Mallory is a stone cold buccaneer.

Mando'ade Mercs: That shutout loss by the Mercs might be surprising. But that's forgetting that half their team is actually 300 years old, so really a 34 point loss isn't that bad when you put it in perspective.

Nar Shaddaa Smugglers: This just in! Konrad Dvorak is not getting fired! The Smugglers' defense has vastly improved! It's no longer the worst defense in the League. It's now the second-worst defense in the League ahead of Bakura. So Dvorak's okay as long as the Mighty Quinn doesn't do something irrational like force Gaeriel Valerii to get a defensive coordinator.

Ralltiir Starkillers: You know, it's no fun for us to hate Galaxy Protector Unanimous when he's actually good. Come on, where's the schadenfreude in that Galaxy Protector?!

Rydonni Prime Monarchs: We're pretty sure that our old coworker Setarcos is going to be joining us at HSN again at the end of the season. Unfortunately, we turned his old office into the trampoline room. Don't worry buddy--we think we found a new office for you. It's great. You'll be able to meet those late night deadlines by pounding out your articles under the influence of industrial strength cleaning products inside a supply closet.

Ylesia Lightning: The Lightning let in 20 and they're still tied for first? That tells you how good Kasin Urdazza is that even when she has a bad day, she's still tops. Oh Kasin, you are the (goal)keeper of our hearts.

TAG: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja jcgoble3 Jedi Gunny Rebecca_Daniels Runjedirun Tim Battershell Vehn

 

IC: Zoa Vra

They couldn't leave Coruscant fast enough. If it wasn't the loss, it was the pressure of the massive city-planet that made the team long for the lush Ylesian climate and the open architecture. Mostly it was the news coming in from Ylesia that made the trip back interminably long.

Zoa tried not to worry, but her tapping fingers and fidgeting gave it away. The humans had been right to get off Ylesia: two humans had been attacked by the mobs of protesters gone too far. They were assured that the humans were recovering fine and the attackers had been 'dealt with' - though in Ylesian terms, what that probably meant was they'd been told off and set free. There was little privacy on their team shuttle, or else Zoa might have called home; the gnawing in her gut wouldn't go away until she knew Lorn was safe.

"Your deal." Prya handed her the sabacc deck and Zoa dealt the cards for a new hand. It was the best way to pass the time, distract them from the strife back home. And it was their home, for some more than others. Zoa had been part of the team for years, as had many of her teammates; while none of them were human, splitting the city like that was hard to watch. The game served a second purpose, one that she was sure would boil over soon: Nolli's increasingly loud support of the protesters was splitting the team like it was splitting the city, and they didn't need that in the middle of the season, not with Mandalorians to face in less than a week.

Shahka hissed, a happy sound, and Mallarhynn eyed her. The rule to "let the Wookiee win" didn't exactly apply to Barabels. Veiana tossed down her hand and slid down the aisle to sit with "more interesting people" - namely Kasin, who was still avoiding them all, the loss hitting her worse than the rest of them. The Zeltron would cheer her up, that was for certain.

Tung won the hand, trumping them all with an Idiot's Array, and Zoa passed the deck onto the next person. A long flight indeed.

--

IC: Raakla To

Something had to be done, and fast.

If the situation in Peace City wasn't resolved soon, the team would suffer financially, emotionally, and probably on the scoreboard. She could see the division in the team forming, and while what she had in mind wouldn't solve it (in fact, she was certain that what she did would either quiet the protests or escalate them rapidly) it might focus them on what was important at this stage of the season: winning.

Raakla waved Sunlua over. "I'm going to do it."

Her coach's skin yellowed, a sign of nervousness amongst her species. "Are you sure? This could ruin the balance-"

"What balance?" She spoke loudly and lowered her voice to keep from being overheard. "The humans are leaving or being attacked, and while it's a small group right now, we all know that all aliens will get the blame regardless of our involvement. It was my fault this started, and I'm going to fix it."

Sunlua shook her head, setting her topknot swaying. "It was Cundertol's fault, not yours... but if you're sure."

Raakla smiled tiredly. "I'm the one with the lightsaber hanging over my head. Let's just hope this isn't what makes it drop."

--

IC: Zoa Vra

Her apartment was dark when she got in, late in the evening. She hit a light and found everything oddly untouched, like no one had been there in the week she was away. Zoa supposed Lorn could have been busy, or travelling for work, or visiting family, but he hadn't mentioned anything before she left. He was always - nearly always - here when she got back from a road trip.

"Hello?" she called, leaving her bag by the door so she could look around. "Lorn, are you home?"

Silence greeted her, and the knot in her stomach refused to go away. Something was wrong, and she didn't know what to do about it.

The door opening startled her, and she turned to see her boyfriend, looking dishevelled in his work clothes, walk in. "Hey, look who's back from the big city." He held out his arms, looking hopeful, and she hugged him.

"Where were you? I was hearing about what was happening and-"

"I was just at the pub with some coworkers and lost track of the time, sorry sweet." He held her tighter. "Everything's fine, really. I even cleaned up the apartment for you." Zoa closed her eyes and relaxed against him. That explained the odd feeling she had coming in. Everything was fine.

--

Mirik Chal hired as Assistant GM
by Lejique Beiron

The Lightning management shocked fans today by announcing the hiring of Corellian Mirik Chal as Assistant General Manager. In a press conference, GM To said that Chal came highly recommended, and as most of her team's contracts are ending this season because of their transfer to the Elite League, she cited needing help wading through the contracts as her reason for hiring.

Chal's experience is primarily at college-level, and had a brief career in the Premier League before moving to a management position. She hopes that with her first-hand knowledge of the college teams, she'll be able to help the Lightning find and sign young talent.

Many fans are reacting badly to the news, with anger at hiring a human, even to a desk job, very prominent. However, others are hoping that this will help ease tensions between humans and aliens on Ylesia.

--

IC: Zoa Vra

"This pandering to humans has to stop! Raakla only did that to appease the league and that-" Zoa winced at the word choice. "-Cundertol!"

About half the team was already in the locker room, warming up for practice. Unsurprisingly, it was Nolli who was shouting, but it seemed she had recruited Thudak to her cause, made worse by the fact that he'd spent most of the season so far on the bench. So far the peace was still holding in the city, which was a relief to many after the new hiring, but there was no guarantees once the Mandos were in town - especially since their roster was mostly human. The peace in the locker room seemed to have vanished entirely, though.

"Did you consider that she might actually need help? And maybe that Chal's actually good? You know humans can be good at things, right?" Kasin was snapping back while stretching, but the situation was anything but comical.

Most were ignoring their argument, though Veiana and Zenro looked ill at ease. They had a game tomorrow and the team was going to get crushed by the Mandos at this rate.

Syra stepped in. "Why don't you all shut your mouths and focus on the kriffing game before I get Sunlua to bench you all!" A tense silence followed, and Nolli was quivering but remained silent. Thudak grumbled something in rodian that Zoa didn't catch, but they returned to their warm ups.

Shahka broke the silence. "Lightning are good hunterz, but cannot hunt alone," she commented. "Mandalorianz are good hunterz and hunt as team. If Lightning are not together, will get eaten."

Zoa took her cue from the Barabel. "You're right, we need to leave our personal issues at the door. If we're not working as a team this is going to be a short season, and we'll all have a long time to think over our mistakes." Those who were actively listening, nodded or added a motion of assent. "Like Shahka said, let's hunt those Mandos."

Shahka bared her teeth. "This one will enjoy hunting them."

--

Starting lineup adjustments:

Toth Kul in Left Corner Back for Nolli Uto [benched]


TAG: Bardan_Jusik for this week's game.

 

IC: Vesper Lynd
Grande Villa, Rydonni Prime

The match against the Rebels had started well enough. The entire team assembled on the field for a pre-match ceremony, the retiring of Dawn Solo-Undolo’s and Lex Silas’s jersey numbers. Like Beks’ and Mia’s before them, the ceremony concluded with tarps being pulled off two large circles with gold rims, blue fields, and silver lettering which mimicked the back of their old jerseys. The four ELL Monarch’s emblems differed from Roderick’s in that his lettering was all gold.

Both teams’ defenses seemed to be in rare form going into half time the score was 4-3. The Monarchs had the slight edge over the Rebels on the scoreboard, but had a definite advantage on the field. The only score the defense had allowed came in the opening moments of the game. In a quick bang-bang play off of the opening gun, the Rebels’ Corner Forward and half cousin to Dawn Solo-Undolo, Gemma Sal-Solo firmly planted the bolo in the back of the net.

The scoring play had been touched off by a turnover from second year Corner Forward Haly Teska. As the Rebels celebrated, Vesper called a timeout on the field and gathered up her teammates around her. “Listen, it’s one goal, it was a fluke, now shake it off,” she turned and looked at Haly, “Do you hear me, shake it off. Now let’s get out there and win this thing.”

Spirits continued to run high for the entire team. Well, not the entire team as Haly was sitting in his locker looking completely dejected. Vesper walked over to him and smacked him on the back, “Hey, what did I tell you?”

“You told me to shake it off, but I can’t, ok? And it’s not just today, it’s been the whole season, frak I don’t even know how I won this position in the first place. I’m last on the team in points, I’m almost last in assists, Force knows I’m dead last in scoring average. So why am I even in there?” Haly reburied his face in his hands and his braintails fell around his head.

Vesper just stood there and shook her head, “Well guess what, you got the job, and you’re the only one that we have right now. So quit feeling sorry for yourself and get out there.”

Even the second half was going good. Vesper scored a goal, putting the Monarchs up by four. But then the Rebels started four quick points, tie-ing everything up at 7. That was when the crowd started singing. They started singing a song that they had never once sung at a match. Two weeks prior, in a press conference Setarcos mentioned an old Rydonnian song, in the last five minutes of the match the crowd started singing.

Now as the song reached its second line the music cut out but the crowd continued singing. Just a city boy, Born and raised in south Ryell, He took the midnight train goin' anywhere. She didn’t know why, but hearing those words along with those of the chorus, ‘Don’t stop believin’, were the most uplifting words she had heard in a long time. Then Sal-Solo got her hands on the bolo again, this time there was nothing flukish about the play, it was just plain dirty.

The Corellian Corner Forward had been denied access to the ball all game long by Aley Helios, a fact that frustrated her. It frustrated her to the point of planting an elbow into the temple of Helios sending her reeling back and leaving the goal exposed. That is when the Rebels took their first lead, 10-7, but the Monarchs were not out of the match. There was just enough time for the Monarchs to tie it up once more and send it into overtime.

Vesper pulled the front six together in a tight huddle. “Listen up. We are still in this thing. We can still pull this out. Let’s throw the inside-out/double pick and roll at them. Whoever gets free I want you to bury that frellin’ bolo into the net so deep that it won’t come out does everyone understand? Good, now let’s do this!”

Everything was going as planned. That was until Haly got his hands on the bolo. In the inside-out/double pick-and-roll, the key was to perform quick and precise passes. Once the ball made its way inside to one of the front three they would then kick the ball out to one of the half forwards who would normally kick the ball through the uprights. But with the double pick-and-roll added in, the half forwards would pass the ball back and forth until one of the front three came free.

Unfortunately they never got to that point. As soon as Haly got a hold of the bolo he forced a shot, trying to sneak it past the Keeper. Instead the bolo ricocheted off the goal and flew straight back to the Center Half Back of Corellia. The Center knew to get the ball up to one the half forwards who punted the bolo through the uprights, putting the game out of reach, 11-7 Rebels.

Vesper grabbed the bolo as they entered the lockerroom after the match and threw it as hard as she could into Haly’s stuff. When the Twi’lek finally walked in, she gave him a piece of her mind. “What the frak were you thinking out there? We were running a designed play and you what? Decided to wing it? Of all the bone headed…” She never finished her thought as Setarcos walked in and started his post match.

TAG: To be continued

 

GM Post

It's week 5 and that means that trades have now ended for the season. I guess for the most part we're dancing with the girls or boys we came with. Conference play begins this week so now the standings will get quite interesting! Remember--in the event of tied records, conference wins are the first tiebreaker, not head-to-head play.

Bonus rolls to Agamar, Bakura, Coruscant, Mando'ade, Ralltiir, Rydonni Prime, and Ylesia.

Week 5 Results

Corellia Rebels at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers (17-6)
Agamar Packers at Euceron Storm (12-30)
Mando’ade Mercs at Ylesia Lightning (29-20)
Ralltiir Starkillers at Rydonni Prime Monarchs (31-27)
Coruscant Senators at Bakura Miners (25-15)
Hapes Consortium Buccaneers at Chandrila Patriots (27-23)

TAG: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja jcgoble3 Jedi Gunny Rebecca_Daniels Runjedirun Tim Battershell Vehn

 

Sub-GM Post

Bonus rolls this week to (points in parentheses): Kashyyyk (28), Thyferra (32), Byblos (28), Druckenwell (28), Tatooine (28). Banked for next week: Concordia (30).

Limmie Futures League
Week 4
Kashyyyk Rangers at Thyferra Force (4–8)
Byblos Red Wings at Druckenwell Marksmen (13–15)
Kamino Waves at Tatooine Sandskimmers (10–4)

TAG: Bardan_Jusik Vehn Runjedirun Rebecca_Daniels Jedi Gunny CPL_Macja

 

Week Five Power Rankings:

1. Ralltiir Starkillers – The Starkiller romp continues, albeit in a very close game against Rydonni Prime this week. Ralltiir stays at the top spot in these rankings, but a shootout game like this proves that this team is not invincible. Next up, they have Coruscant at home, a team looking to knock the Solo Conference newcomers down a peg. Ralltiir, if they win next week, is the first team to start out a season 6-0 since . . . you guessed it . . . the 269 Senators. We’re sure Galaxy Protector will be all over this in the media. N/C

2. Euceron Storm – A solid home win over the recently-streaking Packers has the Storm back up in the upper echelon of the power rankings. Their offense is firing on all cylinders right now, led by bona-fide Salbukk candidate Aysel Yan’ii, and looks to be playing in the mold of the Miners from last season. They are the class of the Skywalker Conference at the moment, which is rather underwhelming compared to the competition in the Solo. 2

3. Hapes Consortium Buccaneers – Had Euceron not won so handily, the C-Bucs would have been #2 in these rankings. They slipped past a solid Chandrila squad, and are looking for more next week. Not bad for last season’s Premier League champs, coming into the Solo Conference and starting off 4-1. However, we will find out how good this team really is in the next few weeks. N/C

4. Mando’ade Mercs – A solid victory over defending champs Ylesia, including posting a season-high 29 points on the Lightning defense, puts the Mercs here. They look to be the biggest threat to Euceron in the Skywalker, and could potentially be reaping the benefits of moving to the Skywalker if they keep winning after a good nonconference slate. 4

5. Chandrila Patriots – A narrow loss to the C-Bucs still leaves Chandrila in a good spot in the Solo. They certainly have a lot of drive to perform after a 3-1 nonconference record, and aim to notch a win this next week. 3

6. Coruscant Senators – A great 25-15 win over Bakura has the Senators in the third spot in the Solo, and looking to potentially make their move. Now they go into Ralltiir next week to face off against the undefeated Starkillers. They have motivation to knock the division leaders off to preserve the posterity of that 269 team, which almost went undefeated that year, and aspire to be the thorn in the Starkillers’ side that Vandelhelm was once to the team from the Capital. Nope, no historical pressure here. N/C

7. Corellia Rebels – Two weeks ago, the Rebels were foundering, a complete deadweight team. Now, after consecutive wins, the Rebels are looking to make noise in conference play in the Skywalker. They have talent, and now the drive to compete. 4

8. Agamar Packers – The Packers, although they lost to Eucron 30-12 on the road this week, still have momentum from wins the two prior weeks, and look to even their record at 3-3 next week with a win. It won’t be easy, but shutting out the Miners is no small feat either. 1

9. Ylesia Lightning – The defending champs, which relied heavily on defense the first three weeks, are showing cracks in the defensive armor. It is possible that the growing anti-human sentiment on Ylesia is starting to wear on the team. Either that, or they just ran into two solid offenses from Coruscant and Mando’ade that exposed flaws in their defense. 4

10. Bakura Miners – Going 1-4 to start the season is not what the Miners had in mind coming into the season. Their offense has been shut down the last three weeks, and their defense is beyond atrocious at the moment. Something needs to be done to turn this season around, or perhaps the Miners look to evaluate their talent moving forward if they can’t turn the ship around in time. N/C


11. Rydonni Prime Monarchs - No, I am not crazy for putting the Monarchs here. They nearly pulled out a shootout win over undefeated Ralltiir this past week, and seem to have more life in them than most pundits have given them credit for. It’s another rebuilding year for the Monarchs, but perhaps they have signs of life going into the rest of the season, and then into next year. 1

12. Nar Shaddaa Smugglers – Losing to Corellia isn’t exactly a pretty proposition at the moment, at home no less, and then adding in insult of only scoring 6 points when your defense actually holds together for one game. The Smugglers are spiraling downwards, and with owner Kaitlyn Vehn proposing radical change with the team and its stadium, one has to wonder how this team will stay together to finish off the season. 3


TAG: Bardan_Jusik, CPL_Macja, Rebecca_Daniels, Trieste, Vehn, jcgoble3, Tim Battershell, Runjedirun

 

IC: Cord McKerty
Bakura Gardens, Bakura

Here it was, the Senatorial Showdown. This was potentially the marquee matchup in the Solo Conference, two of the top teams in Elite League history going at it for 60 minutes with one another. Cord sat on the bench as the game began, watching how things were progressing. The Senator offense seemed to be clicking right off the bat. A pass by Alysha Romax found its way into the offensive zone to Dauza Chary. The rookie Nemoidian, running the field general spot on offense for the Four Around scheme that the Senators still clung to despite the loss of Andrew Mundle to Alsakan, checked her options before passing off to Bel Erein. The Mon Calamari ran around the Miner defensive scheme, and Cord took all this information in as he watched the veteran Full Forward go. The Miners seemed to be caving in on her a little too much here. Perhaps there was space to work in for later when he subbed in.

The possession ended when Bel coughed up the ball on a solid hit from T.K. Kutel, and the ball skittered into the hands of the Miner defense. But Cord had seen enough to tell him what the Miners were running so far. He had seen a lot of this on game tape during the week, but now that he was seeing it for the first time live, his observations were spot-on. He could definitely work with this, even though he had never faced this team before.

Finally, the scoring drought ended when Max Qorbus punched a goal in past Anton Jorpik, a blistering cannon that ripped into the back of the net with a sweet snap sound. That seemed to wake up the offenses, as Bakura went right down the other way and scored a goal of their own. Ortho Dyhon had been out of position on this one, and the Miners scored easily when Jayla Leed, playing as if Dyhon had made the play, was caught out of position. It was a look that Senator fans had seen too much of in Leed, but they still had hope in their fourth-year veteran that she could play at this level and be consistent.

Back and forth went the teams, their spread-out offensive attacks stretching both defenses. But neither Back 6 gave up in the half, making tackles, and hounding the passing lanes when a bad pass was thrown. A solid play by assistant captain Jerek Deter on Will Detra caused the ball to pop loose and was scooped up by Leed. The goalie outleted the ball to Demetra Silkins, who was playing back further than normal to gather the ball and then make a play with it. The rover midfielder ran the ball through the middle of the field, dodging Everett North as she went, and finally passed it off to Chary. Once again the rookie was faced with making a play in the face of the Miner defense. But she made a good decision this time, hitting Riff Persnor in stride. The Cathar, a 270 All-Star with Thyferra under coach Pamila Korthe’s tutelage, made a defender miss and passed off to Qorbus by the goal. Max backed down his defender in the post before skipping a shot in past Jorpik for his second goal of the game.

At the half, Cord had only played two minutes in relief of Wylega Persnor, who was struggling this season. She looked good physically, but just didn’t use the most of her opportunities with the ball. It was alarming how many times she turned the ball over, given her stat sheet only had a goal on it all season. On the other side of the corner forward line, Max Qorbus was showing why he had won the Helmsman Memorial Trophy as a senior in college, and the Numifolis two years later with Ryloth. He was leading the team in scoring, and was generally looking solid. Kev Flysto, Cord’s fellow backup corner forward, hadn’t done much either, so it was obvious that Coach was letting her starters go long for this one despite the depth on the bench. Kev was a long-time veteran, so it wasn’t like he was terrible, or inexperienced, like Cord was.

The score was tied at 9 at the half, and both teams seemed to be doing well enough. The Senator defense, despite losing Zumarooroo for the game with a bruised hip issue that was nagging him after he initially messed it up in practice earlier this week, was playing well. The Miners weren’t finding a ton of room to work in, as the constant defensive substitutions that Palla Tyroti was executing kept her players fresh for the most part. On the other side, the Miner defense was looking stout as well, keeping most of the Senator attacks into the offensive zone out of the danger zone and into more manageable situations. Both midfields were tangling well, neither side gaining an edge. Perhaps they didn’t have as big names, but Alysha and Gayla Renhorn were keeping up with the duo from Bakura that were household names, Glencross and North. Leed and Jorpik had made some bonehead plays, but were evenly matched as well. This was a rivalry tilt at its finest, a closely-contested game.

“We’ve done well for the first thirty minutes,” Pam said to her team at the halftime break. “But we can do better. Their defense is collapsing a bit more than I anticipated, and we were caught off-guard by that. This half, we need to exploit that look and push it back in their faces. We need to keep that ball moving and stay out of the teeth of their defense. Defense, keep up that intensity. If we can shut them down, we can run away with this one if we play our cards right. Let’s finish this one.”

Cord returned to the bench at the start of the second half. He wondered how much time he was going to get in this game, given that he was still the last corner forward in the rotation, and would thus only see extensive time if Kev wasn’t available off the bench and Qorbus wasn’t dominating. He took a swig of Gundarkade from the cooler and sighed. He wished he could play more. It was a small concern, but it was hard to be a rookie on a veteran squad like this. Could he have even made the team in the glory days of 268 and 269, when the teams were stacked up and down the lineup with big names and solid role players?

A minute in, Wylega caught the ball and came forward. However, a solid hit from the side sent her down to the turf hard. She landed on her arm, and had to limp off the field only after play had stopped and the trainers were out there to help her. It didn’t look like a serious injury, but now the Senators needed a replacement.

“McKerty! Your turn!” Coach yelled. Cord was confused; why wasn’t Kev coming in here? When the Zeltron saw that Cord was confused, she motioned to him angrily to run out there. Cord finally did as he was told, and joined his teammates on the field.

The ball came in from the side, and Cord ran his pattern. He ran into a small trap, but was able to get out of it and free himself up from the coverage. The ball came to him, and he surveyed the field. There were no good passes from her, so he would have to make a move. He faked out a move to the right before going left. This pushed him closer to the sideline, and when he was on his way to the corner, he realized that he had backed himself into it. This was not a good way to start. He then changed course, running smack dab into Riff as he came in to assist the rookie. Cord fumbled the ball, and it bounced out of bounds, possession to Bakura. No doubt the Senator fans at home were groaning at that bad play.

The next time Cord saw the ball, it was several minutes later. He grabbed the pass out of the air from Dauza, and then faked to the right. This time, he went straight down the middle of the field, using a screen from Qorbus to set his path. He wanted to throw the ball, but he was too far out to let off a high-percentage shot. So he kept on running, making Kutel miss as he went. Then he juked out the last defender with a solid beach-honed cut, and found his opening against Jorpik. The ball left his hand, even though he didn’t really think about it, and it seemed to zoom in on the goal like it had a mind of its own. Jorpik’s fingers just weren’t long enough, and the ball landed in the goal area.

Cord’s teammates mobbed him for the gutsy move, and Cord knew that he had talent after all. Perhaps he wasn’t done. On the next possession, he caught the pass, threatened to go down the middle again to draw the Miners defense in, and then passed it out wide to Demetra Silkins. Her matchup was out of position on Cord’s fake, and Demetra sent a rocket into the back of the net for her eighth goal of the season, putting Coruscant up two goals.

Minutes later, Cord had another opportunity to make something happen. In came the pass from Alysha, and he caught it easily. Making a move, he tore up the field, his small frame allowing him to cut with ease whereas larger players would struggle to change direction. His feet were almost a blur as he ran past, using his sprinting ability to try and outrun the Miner defense. He made his way around the end and then loosed off a shot that clanked off the crossbar and back towards him. Jorpik had been there to make the play, but Cord had other ideas. He ran up to the ball, barely beating out fellow rookie Falene Trieste, who was playing deep, and sent off a line drive kick that slipped through Jorpik’s hands and went past the goal line for his second goal of the game.

Cord’s play seemed to energize the Senator team, as they eventually pulled away and won the game 25-15. It hadn’t all been him, but he had been the role player who stepped up and made things happen for this contest. And then he got to stand with the rest of his teammates as they received The Old Rosewood Gavel, the rivalry trophy for the Showdown. It was their first time winning the trophy, since its’ inception was in the previous year. Alysha held the Gavel high, and the Senator fans in attendance cheered loudly for their team. The Senators now had two trophies in the case for this season, the Rim Jersey, and now the Gavel, with two chances remaining to take home more hardware. But that was for later, as they had Ralltiir coming up the next week. Nothing was easy in the Solo Conference.

When the team headed back to the shuttle to head off-planet and get to Ralltiir, Cord was intercepted by Reena. His wife looked rather intrigued by his game that day, and the two of them chatted it up as they got settled on the shuttle in the seating area.

“Not a bad game,” Reena said.

“I’d say that was my best game,” Cord replied.

“Surely you can do better?” Reena challenged.

“Better? I’m a rookie,” Cord said. “Aren’t you satisfied with two goals scored?”

“Don’t take it so hard. You did great,” Reena replied, smiling. “I just like messing with you.”

“Of course you do,” Cord said. “How’s the hammy?”

“It’s not quite perfect yet, but I think I proved that I could play out there today,” Reena said. “I’ll probably be capped again next week, and then be 100% in two weeks.”

“That’s reason enough to celebrate?” Cord asked.

“With a drink? I’m all for that,” Reena said.

The two of them walked to the bar when the shuttle was out of the atmosphere of Bakura and was ready to make the jump to hyperspace. They sat down and waited, and when the ship was moving again, they each had a small glass of whiskey to celebrate their game, Reena coming back from injury, and Cord scoring two goals to help win the game. Not a bad way to start off conference play.

---

IC: Gark S’rily

Gark watched as Cord knocked in the second goal. Hm, that kid had some talent after all.

“Not bad,” Londy Whiste commented.

“I don’t know why the other teams passed on him in the Draft,” Gark said. He, of course, hadn’t been there, but he had heard about it when he had time. “Kid’s got talent. Still needs seasoning, but his talent is there.”

When the game was over, the Senators came out victorious. Gark was of course elated with the win, but as always, the feeling of victory was always overshadowed by the feeling of uncertainty involving the next matchup, that against Ralltiir. Eventually Gark was able to hold the Rosewood Gavel. It was made of high-quality grain wood, and was quite a sight. When the Gavel had made its rounds, it was placed back in its case and taken to the shuttle for safekeeping. The Senators had won this game, and were now 3-2. But they still had a long way to go, starting next week.



TAG: Trieste

 

IC: Setarcos Rhemes
Team Conference Room, Grande Villa

The day after the match with Corellia, Setarcos called a team meeting, the only team activity for the day. Normally this would have been the first of their travel days, but since Ralltiir was basically around the galactic corner from Rydonni Prime, on the other side of Coruscant, he decided to leave a day later. Before the meeting started Setarcos was in his office finalizing a trade deal with Quinn Cundertol of the Miners. After the poor performance of the young twi’lek right corner forward he knew that they needed someone with more experience, and Cundertol was offering it in Corrie Andersen. So a deal was struck that sent the Monarchs 2nd Round pick of the 275 Draft to Bakura and brought the veteran Miner to Rydonni Prime.

As the team filtered into the room they found him standing at the front of the room with a board behind him bore only two numbers 268 and a big 0. Once everyone had settled in Setarcos began, “Zero folks, Zero. I don’t have to tell you what are stats are for the season. You are well aware of them. But that number, or lack of number, represents something more. It represents not only our wins, not only Ralltiir’s losses, but it also represents our current Solo Conference record. Starting today everything resets.”

He paused for a moment and allowed that idea to settle in with everyone before continuing on, “Now you are probably wondering why I have this other number up here. It is also significant for us, does anyone know why? And no it is not the total number of points we have given up this season.”

Melanie Ocean piped up from the back row, “Is it the combined IQ of the Back Six?”

Setarcos allowed a small grin to spread across his face, “Even though that might be true, it’s not the answer I am looking for.” Everyone had a good chuckle as the tension broke in the room. “Any more guesses?”

The team’s captain, who had been out all season, spoke matter-of-factly, “It was our first season in the ELL and the last time we had more than four losses during the regular season.”

“And you all wonder why I picked her for team captain. Mara is correct, it was also the last time the ELL had a nine week regular season. Now, grant it, there was a bye week, but it didn’t help us out any. That year we had the best defense in the league, allowing only an average of 16 points a game. However, we had the second worst offense, only averaging just over 14 points per game.

“So you are all probably wondering, ‘what does this all mean?’ or even, ‘thanks for the history lesson, can I please get back to my off-day?’, am I right?” he didn’t wait for an answer, “I told you all this for one reason, I believe that you all are more talented then that team, a team that had just been formed and marched through the PLL almost winning a Premiership. I think regardless of what happens on Ralltiir this Primeday, there is still a shot of us making it into the playoffs. We just need to pull ourselves together and show the rest of the galaxy that we are that talented.

“Now go home, get some rest. We have two shuttles that will be leaving from the spaceport tomorrow. The first one will be leaving shortly after the port opens in the early morning for anyone who feels they need some more practice. Then an empty shuttle will be leaving 12 hours later. Do I make myself clear?”

The next morning, before the first rays of light from Rydo poked over the horizon, Setarcos showed up at the spaceport. He was the last member of the team to arrive.

TAG: To be continued

 

IC: Tim Dodd - Euceron Storm's Stadium, Eusebus, Euceron


As 'Star of Agamar' played, followed by Euceron's Anthem, Tim surveyed his team with a certain degree of pride. Not pride for himself, but pride in them, their diligence and the way they had played recently. They'd wiped out the initial two match deficit to take the Packers into the middle of the Skywalker Conference on results (tied with their two next opponents after this week, the Lightning and the Mercs), third overall in the League on Points Scored, fifth overall on Points conceded and also fifth overall on Goal Difference.

Euceron had scored three wins to the Packers two in the non-Conference part of the Season, but (on the statistics) were neither as efficient at scoring nor were as good at keeping the ball out. Well, statistics were one thing, play on-the-night quite another!

By all accounts the Storm had a pretty good Wookiee Goalkeeper in Chenkabukk - Tim would be paying close attention to him tonight, with a view to making him his 'All-Stars' pick for Keeper; and come to think of it, that Monarch's Forward, Vesper Lynd, had also looked like quality to him, so might become his third 'All-Stars' Forward nomination.

As the game got under way, it became obvious that the Storm had profited from watching recordings of the Packers' last two matches and had a very effective antidote to 'The Bombardment' in their Wookiee Centre-Half-Back, Chalporrin. Totally ignoring where Miles Abrams was and what he was doing, Chalporrin occupied himself solely with charging-down the bounce-kicks from the Packers' Midfielders. He didn't block (sometimes catch) all of them, but he got enough to make a real difference - and the 'all accounts' had been right, Chenkabukk was very good in the Goalmouth, preventing any Full Goals from being scored. By Half-Time, the Packers were trailing 9-18; all their scoring coming from Over-the-Bar Points that Chalporrin hadn't managed to intercept.

At the Packers end, the Storm's Forwards had played fluid Limmie, more often than not catching the Packers' Defense 'leaning the wrong way', and being deceptive as to just which player was going to take the shot. Hohass Vesh was good, but even his long arms couldn't reach everywhere. In addition, Saba and Baraduc seemed to be thoroughly out of sorts, leading to Asyr benching both of them after twenty minutes - Asyr believed that, unused to playing Limmie in a fully enclosed arena, the crowd's noise, and the reverberations, were confusing them.

It was the same story in the second half, the Packers adding another three Over-the-Bar Points to the total, while the Storm fired-in twelve. Final Score; 12-30.

Although a little disappointed (three back-to-back wins in a row would have been nice), Tim was philosophical about the loss - as he had said to the Media, the Packers were serving an Apprenticeship this season, match by match - and at least this loss hadn't been a 'blowout'! Then too, there was the heartening fact that the next three fixtures all happened to be Home games for the Packers; first hosting the Mercs, then the Lightning, finally the Smugglers; finishing the regular season with an Away game at Corellia.

There was the normal queue for boarding; accommodating beings of such varied shapes and sizes had been quite a challenge for the team that had designed the interior layout of the passenger compartment, but one that they'd risen to magnificently. The only slight disadvantage was that embarkation had to be done in a certain order, and that meant a bit of a wait for some of the team!

First in were Saba and Baraduc, their customised seats (designed to accommodate their tails) being located right aft. then Roon and Allanabuck headed for their extra-wide (and in Roon's case, heavily reinforced) seats at the, specially strengthened, midsection, then Jiva and Hohass to the forward-most seats where they could stretch their legs out for comfort. Both had to keep themselves bent almost double before taking their seats - the handicap of being a metre taller than anyone else - but were fine afterwards - until the time came to disembark! All these seats were aisle-side, with the space for the outboard seat filled in with a storage locker (doubling as a table); the one next to Allanabuck's seat also being fitted with a docking/recharge port for her TD-100 series translator. Although Allanabuck understood Shyriiwook, Xaczik and Thykarann perfectly, along with Basic and several other languages, she came from a remote area of Kashyyk and spoke with a thick accent (the local language was also something of a patois) which made it very hard for even other Wookiees to understand her; hence 'Tee-Dee' being an off-pitch necessity. The small Droid could (when Allanabuck didn't require her services) chat with, and play games against, the Shuttle's backup computer whilst in flight.

Once all the larger players were seated, then it was everyone else's turn to board the Shuttle and settle in. Their seats were all in the standard inboard-outboard arrangement on both sides of the aisle.

During the flight, Tim moved down the length of the aisle, commiserating with the players over the result and letting them know that he thought they'd done their best. Asking them for a maximum effort against the Mercs next week; he opined that 'The Bombardment' would probably be effective again against three of the remaining four teams, Ylesia Lightning being the only question mark. He also passed on the other teams' results; the Mercs winning 29-20 against Ylesia Lightning (the reason for his request to the players), the Rebels winning 17-6 against the Smugglers, the Starkillers taking down the Monarchs 31-27, the C-Bucs doing the same to the Patriots 27-23 and the Miners going down 25-15 to the Senators - the Miners were having a really tough Season this year!

Several of the players asked his opinion on the Ylesia situation (where two Humans had, reportedly, been badly beaten up during the week) and what the League would be doing about it. One or two said they'd heard rumours that non-Human Students and Faculty members at the University were also organising some kind of protest group; said to be rapidly growing in numbers. Tim said that he was sure the League was both aware of the situation and attempting to exert a calming influence; but he had neither heard details nor expected to - such 'influences' were most likely to be effective if conducted outside the Media spotlight and with the fewest number of beings involved. As for the University, he had also heard nothing, but said he'd attempt to find out what the situation there actually was.

TAG: jcgoble3

 

IC: Jed Ortmeyer
Thyferra Stadium at Byree Clearing, Thyferra

Jed pondered the implications of this game in his mind as the teams lined up to get play started. A loss here would be crippling for his team, dropping them to 0-4 and making any hopes of a decent playoff game almost impossible. A win here would mean a small victory, but more importantly momentum going into next week’s game. But could they win was the question. The Kashyyyk Rangers, a team Jed was very familiar with in his Limmie playing career, was across the field from the Force. It wasn’t a team just of Wookiees and Trandoshans anymore, which was a shame, but they were still tough to play against.

When the game started, both defenses held their line. The Rangers did their part to keep the Force from scoring points, but for once the Thyferran defense was holding its own. Each time the Rangers came down the field, the Force defenders made a stop. A Rangers forward was stonewalled by reserve back Vilnova Rickmond, who had come out of nowhere to make the play on the ball. It was a nice play, and got the Force the ball.

On the other end, the Force’s offense was struggling mightily as usual. One turnover after another occurred because the young forwards and the journeymen weren’t on the same page yet. A wide-open Crell Van Derven was missed completely on a throw from Almert Song, resulting in a change of possession. Van Derven wanted to jaw with the rookie, but there was no use in arguing. The team had seen enough of this kind of play that they seemed resigned to mediocrity on the offensive. Luckily, the defense made a play, and the whole turnover was a wash.

Finally the Rangers broke through, scoring a goal past Zabrak goalie Kurta Thaar to put themselves up 3-0 in the middle of the second quarter. The Thyferra fans were already headed to the concession stands, because their team just couldn’t score worth a crap these days. What had happened to that electric attack that had led the league in scoring last season? Now they were dead last, not just by a few, but by a good 20-30 points. Perhaps some nachos would be more entertaining that this bunch of stiffs in blue.

An opportunity came when the Force made a play, and the ball went into the middle of the field. Lai Blutas caught a pass and then, seeing some daylight, made a run for it. The opposite midfielder fell down, and Lai was free. She sent off a long kick that somehow split the uprights for a point. Scoring was something that the Force were not accustomed to recently, so this was a minor victory in itself. 3-1 Rangers going into the half.

Jed analyzed his team during the break. His defense was holding for the first time all season, but the offense was terrible. Perhaps he would have to make some changes? “I’m switching offenses,” he finally told his team. “No more Wing-T for us. Open the game up and spread it out more. I want to see more passing and teamwork out there, not turnovers and fumbles. Got it?”

As the team made its way back out onto the field, Jed was reminded of Pam’s deal. Win three games out of the next four, and he would score a date with her. Hm, there was definitely motivation, Jed pondered. Could his team win? Sure it could? Was it likely, given the past three weeks? Possibly. Would they win? Maybe. They had to play harder for the next 24 minutes to seal the win.

The new offense seemed to spring open the forwards. They passed the ball with more efficiency, and thus fewer turnovers resulted. The ball made its way to Alex Renhorn, who then smashed a kick over the bar to cut the lead to 1. A few possessions later, Almert Song found daylight and made a run for it. The rookie beat his defender and then kicked the ball towards the goal. It found space between the goalie’s fingers and the post, and slipped in for three. It was Song’s second goal of the season, and put the Force ahead for the first time all season. The streak of 177 consecutive minutes without holding a lead to begin the season had finally ended. 5-3 Force.

In the fourth quarter, the Force looked to make their move. Malida Worody, who had 11 points on the season compared to the total of 12 from the rest of the team at this point, was able to run off a pick and catch the ball. She then juked her defender before tossing in a real beauty of a shot. Goal for Malida, her fourth of the year, and an 8-3 lead for Thyferra. The fans were now into the game, sensing the team’s first win of 274 just around the corner if they could hold on.

And they did. The Rangers got a bar point late, but it wasn’t enough. The losing streak of five straight dating back to last season was over, not in a beautiful fashion, but in a gritty way. The Force had toughed out the 8-4 victory, not scoring many points once again but having enough defense to make eight the winning score. When Jed walked off the field, he had only one thing on his mind.


One down, two to go.

TAG: No One

 

IC: '????' - Somewhere on Agamar

'Did you hear that? Evidence pointing directly to you exists and will be found, it's only a matter of time! Enjoy your last remaining taste of freedom while you still have it; because ASF will be banging on your door - perhaps sooner than you think!'; himself couldn't put the words out of mind. They'd been spoken with such calm certainty; they were causing himself to jerk awake several times a night, ruining sleep!

Himself could not even seek solace in a visit to the Shrine, not until the Jedi was confirmed to have left Agamar. Using the Portal caused a disturbance in the Force, which Jedi could detect; and there was, or had been, a Jedi here on Agamar; only a Lightsaber blade could have caused those injuries to the gunman that had been sent to kill or intimidate ASF Director Oleg Sturm; and Lightsabers were the signature-weapon of the Jedi! ASF were keeping very quiet about the incident, but himself had contacts, trustworthy contacts, within Agamar's Criminal Justice community who had informed himself of the attack. As understood by himself, it was an open-and-shut case, with the gunman looking at thirty standard years or more on a hell-hole of a Prison-planet!

Dodd, the one who had uttered those, so disturbing, words remained an enigma. Dodd's ascendant lines had produced Jedi in the past; as himself had only recently learned; but Dodd showed no evidence of any Forceful talents at all (although wielding a Lightsaber effectively could be learned by a non-Forceful individual, building one that wouldn't blow up in the user's hand did require those), and seemed perfectly content to simply run the Packers - who were actually doing quite well under his ownership. Even if himself had wished otherwise, the celebrations following the blowout win against the Bakura Miners had simply been too blatant to be ignored. Himself had even had to emerge from self-imposed Limmie disassociation to send Dodd a congratulatory message, just to blend in with the majority of Agamar's population! One in the eye for the detested Republic's equally detested Supreme Chancellor, though; everyone who had ever had anything to do with Limmie knew that that Kerry Trieste (a mere Woman, at that) was the real power behind the Miners; the polite fiction that the team were just another holding of 'House Trieste' (himself refused to use the pretentious title its members referred to themselves by), notwithstanding!

Stupid of the Currs to have sent that gunman, himself thought, for who else could it have been? It had certainly not been himself; the Plan called for himself to operate from behind the scenes, voicing a suggestive word here, a subtle thought there, not to take direct action; and most emphatically not to utilise an incompetent off-worlder whose very appearance proclaimed his line of work! Had himself had any information regarding their current location or activities, there would have been an almost irresistible temptation to forward it (anonymously and untraceably, of course) to the ASF, thereby ridding himself of what had now become an annoyance.

Difficult as it would be, particularly in avoiding the appearance of being too curious or interested, himself would have to attempt to identify the Jedi, as the Machine was in the Shrine and the Master had said the Machine needed to be used. It would need more than one use of the Portal, too, since the Machine needed to be monitored regularly while performing its function.

The Portal! Ancient, left behind, technology that was still functioning after who knew how many thousands of years! It, and the chamber it connected to (not the Shrine, not then - the Shrine and the Machine had come later - but a bare rock-cut chamber, whether prison cell, oubliette or interrogation room neither himself, Himself, nor any Predecessor knew), had been discovered by a Forceful servant of the Master not long after the Jedi insurrection had been defeated. Not by the Dark One, but by a lesser servant; a servant who had seen similar things on another world and who had worked out the Ritual needed to utilise the Portal. It was the reason himself was positioned here, Himself had been positioned here and all of the Predecessors except the Prime had been positioned here; hiding in plain sight. All through the intervening years, the existence of the Portal (and therefore the Shrine and its contents) had not been suspected, much less discovered; not by the Scarheads, not even by the neo-Sith; despite the hatred and repugnant bio-constructions of the former or the Force abilities of the latter.

On the bright side, Ylesia looked to be coming to the boil nicely. Already two humans had been attacked by the Animals; a regrettable majority of the planetary population, even before the developing situation caused many, sensible, Humans to become refugees; and it shouldn't be long before they (emboldened by a lack of firm and decisive punitive action) embarked on the first wave of killings. That was the natural course of such events. The need for stern control and massive culling had been seen by Him long ago, and He had thought that the Master fully shared His views. Unfortunate that the Master had seen fit to employ Animals after He had been killed; even appointing one to the rank of Grand Admiral! Even if as brilliant as claimed, the rank of Advisor was more than appropriate. How fitting, then, that it had itself been put down by another Animal!


TAG: No One

 

IC: Falene Trieste
Bakura Gardens, Salis D’aar, Bakura



Falene left the field in a curious place that lived between disbelief and frustration. The Miners had been in this game. They’d been tied at halftime. The defense and she had held the Senators offense to just nine points. They’d been energized in the locker room. They knew they had this.

And then the Senators had opened up for 16 points on them. They’d let that one get away from them when McKerty had broken out. It figured, didn’t it? The Miners could well have drafted him and had passed instead. Yeah, Falene thought to herself as she slumped into her stall in the Miners’ locker room, I bet you’re rethinking that move, aren’t you Cundertol? He could easily have given Vubbins a pass and taken McKerty instead. But back then the Miner offense was the unquestioned rulers of the Elite League. Offensive prowess was secondary to shoring up the defense. Now the offense was sputtering and the defense was still as porous as ever. Great draft Quinn.

The team was clearly dejected after their fourth consecutive loss. It was a crushing streak to be on. Given the way that the Solo Conference was shaping up, the Miners had needed this one really badly. They could have pulled ahead of Coruscant and been nipping at the heels of the frontrunners. However, now they were facing a steep climb. They weren’t mathematically eliminated—Falene didn’t think that even Rydonni Prime was officially out of it yet—but they were teetering on the brink as things stood right now. After ripping off a perfect preseason who would have thought that they’d be here now?

Falene put her head in her hands because she knew that it was the defense’s fault. And that meant it was her fault. She was supposed to be part of the solution. But she’d known as soon as McKerty had beaten her out for his second goal that she was part of the problem. And she wouldn’t put it past the Smug Dragon to eat the remainder of her contract if he thought that he could do better. He was doing it with Ruunron right now.

The young human looked up and saw that across from the locker room and over a few lockers Bengi Zire pull his jersey off in disgust, buzzing in his own language. Falene had absolutely no skill in Talzzi, but she figured that he was probably just saying what they were already thinking. They were tired of losing and they didn’t know how to turn things around. Some of the veterans had gone through midseason slumps…and those veterans knew that the Miners hadn’t been able to recover from them. They’d get tantalizingly close to making the playoffs and fall short.

With an emphatic buzz, Zire threw his jersey on the floor of the locker room.

“Hey!” Glencross snapped from her locker the second that the fabric hit the carpet, “Pick that up. You don’t disrespect that jersey. Ever.”

Zire hesitated, his eyes defiant against his captain. The entire locker room was deathly silent. However, Falene was pretty sure that Bengi had picked the wrong teammate to mess with. It appeared that Zire realized it too because without making another sound he bent and picked up his jersey.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Alana said with total seriousness. And that was that, but Falene knew that the captain had just made a statement to the rookie full back and to the entire team. This might suck, but that didn’t mean that they had any right to forget that they were Miners. It made Falene’s stomach sink when she thought about the tantrum she’d thrown last week in the laundry room. Even though she’d purposefully done that alone because she couldn’t take it anymore so that she didn’t have to be petulant in front of her teammates, she was now ashamed that she’d done it at all.

To everyone’s surprise, the doors to the locker room opened. Valerii’s policy of not speaking to her team appeared to have just broken. Then again, after four straight losses it probably should break.

Except it wasn’t Valerii. It was Han Tunross, the team doctor. Falene went back to taking her cleats off. He was no doubt here to look in on Morgan Alesh’s knee, which had apparently given her some minor trouble during the match. Tunross had examined it at the half and taken her off the field to elevate and ice the knee down. He’d said nothing to the team about it. Falene figured that he was probably going to do some more extensive evaluations now that the game had concluded.

To Falene’s further surprise, Tunross’s shoes showed up in front of Falene. She looked up from her half unlaced cleats at the doctor, who bent down to speak confidentially in her ear. “Come with me,” was all he said.

“I’m not injured,” she replied.

“I wasn’t making a request,” Tunross said somewhat testily.

Falene sighed and knotted off her laces so she wouldn’t come half out of her cleats as she followed him across the locker room and out the door. “What’s this about?” Falene asked once they were in the hall.

Tunross didn’t reply, but just marched her down to the trainer’s room. He opened the door and stood aside for Falene to enter first. She did so—and to her surprise discovered her mother inside.

“I’ll leave you two,” Tunross said somewhat awkwardly, closing the door behind Falene.

Falene’s chest constricted. The weight of four straight losses hit her all at once right in the ribs, worse than Abrams, Chaury, Vra, or Chalporrin had done. The disappointment that hung between them was crushing. Her mother had failed at nothing she’d done. Falene had looked to be following in her footsteps in the one thing that Kerry had never taken on in earnest—and she was failing miserably.

“Mom,” Falene said. Words were hard to come by. “I know…” was all she could find.

“Come here,” Kerry said. It was not the stern command of a Chancellor but the sad regret of the woman who’d given birth to her. Not a regret of having done so, but a regret of what things had come to. The truth was that Falene didn’t really move. It was her mother who crossed most of the distance and gently folded her daughter into a hug. Kerry put a hand against the back of Falene’s head and stroked her hair a little bit.

“After your father died I knew for the first time that I had been a poor mother,” Kerry said, “A good politician, a great one perhaps, but a poor mother. I’ve regretted it ever since then and despite my efforts to take care of you and Declan what did I do? Run off and become Chancellor. There are days when I sit on Coruscant and wonder if I didn’t run for that office not because I thought I could do good things, but because I was scared of actually having nothing to do but be your mother.

“How can you say that?” Falene said, her head against her mother’s shoulder, “You’ve done so much.”

“What does it profit me if I do so much for the galaxy but I can’t even take care of my own children properly?” Kerry asked.

“You gave us everything,” Falene replied.

“Not time or attention,” Kerry said, “Not those. And maybe if I had we wouldn’t be here today. Maybe this would have all turned out differently.”

“What are you talking about? I’m the one that’s sucking out there. We all are.” Falene almost said something else, but stopped herself. I’m out there because of you. I wouldn’t be a Miner if it wasn’t for you. But she didn’t say it because she knew that it wouldn’t sound right. It was supposed to be a compliment, but somehow Falene knew if she said it that it wouldn’t sound that way.

“I love you too much to lie and say you’re not,” the Chancellor replied, “I just wish I could make this better for you. But this is just going to have to suck I guess.”

“Thanks,” Falene mumbled.

So they stood there for a while more and Kerry Trieste held her daughter. No one cried, they just stood there in each other’s arms.


TAG: Jedi Gunny

 

IC: Gayla Renhorn
Banker’s Mansion, Ralltiir

Gayla walked onto the field here on Ralltiir with her teammates, ready to warm up for their upcoming game against the undefeated Starkillers. Her Senator team was 3-2, the Starkillers 5-0, both teams with a win in the first week of conference play. A win here for Ralltiir would help them move further ahead in the standings in the Solo Conference, and a Senator victory would not just bring the Starkillers down a peg, but would push Coruscant to 4-2, and very much alive in the playoff hunt. This was going to be a big game no matter how you sliced it, and the galaxy was watching.

The Starkillers came out to warm up on the other side of the field, wearing their orange and navy blue uniforms. These colors contrasted sharply with the gray road uniforms that the Senators wore. Hopefully this game wouldn’t be played under the same circumstances that the last meeting had been under. Two years earlier, on this field, Polis Vayne had led the charge for the Senators, not just by helping win the game, but also for breathing life into an otherwise-dead team. They had worn their signature colors that day in the win, in honor of Gark S’rily, the Bothan general manager who had “died” during that week. S’rily had of course been biding his time, but at that juncture, everyone thought that he was dead, and were playing for him. Hopefully this time the Senators didn’t have to worry about anything like that, and they could focus on the game itself instead of off-field transgressions or goings-on.

She could see former CorTech teammate Dev Poletin on the other side. The Whipid was now a second-year pro, a veteran. It hadn’t been that long ago since Gayla was in his position, not really a rookie, but a first-rounder looking to really break through in this league with a statement season. And so far he had done exactly that, helping do his part for the Starkiller defense.

And then she found that unmistakable blond hair in the mass of Starkiller players. Alyda Hovechar, the former CorTech midfielder, and first-round pick, was warming up with her teammates.

“What are you looking at?” Alysha Romax, Gayla’s running mate in the middle of the field and team captain, asked as she watched observed Gayla staring over at the Starkiller side.

But Gayla didn’t reply. She instead walked over to that side of the field, drawing some strange looks from the Starkillers as she came across. But what could they do to stop her? It wasn’t like she was going to try something stupid. If she did, it would be in retaliation from something an opposing player would have started. It had been quite a while since a fistfight had erupted during pre-game warmups, and that hadn’t been pretty. Alyda didn’t turn to look, since she and most of the rest of her team were just starting to get the kinks out for the game.

Gayla waited until she was almost next to Alyda to say anything. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, rook?” she finally said.

Alyda turned around. “Gayla,” she said.

“Long time no see,” Gayla said, a smirk on her face.

“Indeed,” Alyda replied. “What brings you over here?”

“I didn’t have to come that far,” Gayla pointed out. “Besides, it’s been a few years. Is it wrong of me to come strike up a conversation with my former running partner before we meet head-to-head in the arena?”

“Not that I know of,” Alyda said. Gayla wasn’t really sure if the younger midfielder was really interested in speaking to her; it had been a while.

“I see that you took my advice,” Gayla said. “Never thought you’d be a first-rounder, did you?”

“Nope,” Alyda replied. “But I have to hand it to you. I studied your game tape after you graduated, and I started to work on all facets of my game. Offense, defense, midfield play . . . I worked on all of it. And I improved.”

“Alex tells me you were quite a solid player the last few years,” Gayla said. She was referring to her younger sister, Alex Renhorn, who had played with Alyda at CorTech the past two seasons and was now being seasoned on Thyferra in the LFL. “You didn’t have the same mean streak I did, but I think that’s just more my personality.”

“When I had a Wookiee next to me, I didn’t have to worry about keeping a mean streak,” Alyda said, grinning.

“I don’t think I would survived that,” Gayla replied. “They like to try and mess up your face and perfectly-manicured hair.”

“You’ve always been the prima-donna, haven’t you?” Alyda asked.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Gayla said. “But yes, I had to carve out my own personality. And it’s served me pretty well. OK, except for the ejections . . .”

“How many of those have you racked up now?” Alyda asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just one,” Gayla said. “And that wasn’t even in a counting game, so it hardly counts towards anything.”

“But that’s one more than I’ve had,” Alyda said with a smirk.

“Fine, be that way,” Gayla said. Then her mind moved onto something else. “How’ve you been faring the last couple years? I know I haven’t been keeping in touch or anything. Did you ever . . . you know . . . get over . . . that night?”

Alyda’s expression darkened. “No, I haven’t,” she said. “I’ve tried whatever I can to purge those thoughts, but . . .”

“But what?” Gayla asked.

“It’s been four years, Gayla,” Alyda said. “Four years. And yet I still can’t get those thoughts out of my head.”

---

Four years earlier, Forrest Heights, Coruscant, CorTech campus, Mepler Hall

Alyda pulled up the bed covers, staring at the ceiling as she did so. It had been a long day, going to class, working on homework, doing more homework, Limmie weightlifting, and then a small meal. Sometimes it sucked to be an athlete, because it meant having to go to practice amongst all the other pieces of being a college student.

Her roommate Laurn, her life-long friend, then crawled into her bed. “Hey Lyda, you ready for that quiz tomorrow in bio?” she asked as she tried to get herself comfortable.

“Nah,” Alyda replied, still staring at the ceiling. “I’ll study a bit tomorrow morning before class.”

“Always trying to cut it close, aren’t you?”

“I had a rough day,” Alyda replied indignantly. “It’s rough when you have to go to class, work on homework, and lift weights all in the same day. You try it sometime.”

“That’s why I don’t play sports,” Laurn said. “ ‘Night.”

“Night,” Alyda said. Laurn turned off the lamp on her nightstand, and the room was plunged into complete darkness. Alyda quickly fell asleep, not even noticing when she drifted off into dreamland.

---

Ping! Ping went the shrill sound of the fire alarm. Alyda woke up, or at least opened her eyes.

“Laurn? You awake?” she asked as she got out of bed and put on her shoes.

“Yeah,” her roommate replied. “What kind of idiot sets off the fire alarm at this time of night?”

“You think it’s the term drill?” Alyda asked.

“Probably,” Laurn said. “Either that, or someone burned a bit of late-night bacon.” The two of them made their way to the door, opening it and stepping out. The hall was a stream of fellow freshmen students going towards the exit, some of them still extremely sleepy, others wide awake, and some probably too drunk to really care. Alyda and Laurn followed the stream into the stairwell and then down the three floors to the bottom of Mepler Hall, the freshman dorm.

As soon as Alyda left the building, she could feel a slight breeze hit her cheek. It felt slightly cold to her in her pajamas, but hopefully this wouldn’t last too long. She didn’t want to be up too long, since she had to study for that quiz in a few hours. That wouldn’t be fun. Out in the courtyard stood the residents of Mepler, most wanting to know what was going on.

Then they heard the blaster fire. Screams rang out in the night as students tripped over each other, trying to escape the angry red blaster bolts that were whizzing around the air. Alyda hit the deck immediately and covered her head with her hands. It wasn’t like they would stop a direct shot to her head from killing her, but she hoped that doing this would somehow keep her safe. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. What the hell was going on? The air was still filled with screaming, groaning, blaster fire. She looked up from her place on the ground to look and see where Laurn was. Her roommate had disappeared into the mass of students, some fleeing, others hitting the ground. Where was Laurn? She wanted to go and have a look, but she was frozen in place by fear. The blaster fire was slowing down slightly, but any shot at all was too much for her. A bolt whizzed above her, and she put her head back down into the grass, trying to keep a low profile. A body hit next to her, a fellow student hyperventilating as they joined Alyda on the ground.

The chaos didn’t last long in actual time, but for Alyda, the seconds ticked by at a painfully slow speed. Where was Laurn? Who was shooting at them? Why?

When the blaster shots had quieted down, there was an eerie silence that hung over the courtyard. Alyda stood up slowly, her body feeling extremely weak as she struggled to stand on her feet. She could see some bodies lying on the ground, but there was no telling what was going on. The acrid smell of smoke drifted lazily across the grass, fouling up the air and sending Alyda into a frenzy. Everything had gone so wrong.

---

At the sound of a blaster shot, Gayla woke up with a start. “Reena!” she hissed to her roommate.

The Hapan lifted her head off her pillow. “What was that?” she asked.

“Blaster fire,” Gayla said. “Something’s going on out there.”

The two fifth-year seniors ran to their door and yanked it open. A few fellow upperclassmen poked their heads out of their dorm room doors, but no one else dared leave. Gayla and Reena quickly descended the stairs, but the sound of additional blaster shots stopped them in their tracks. They took cover away from the door, trying to make sure that if any stray bolts came in the direction of their dorm building, they would be safe. Minutes later, the firing stopped, and the two seniors waited with baited breath for another minute or two before moving once more.

They joined the small stream of other CorTech students who had come out to see what in the hell was going on. Things were in complete chaos, students everywhere, groaning, moaning, and the occasional sound of speech. Of course it had to be a cloudy night, so it was difficult to see anything. But there had been no mistaking what had occurred; obviously there had been a shooting. What was the damage? Who had been hurt? Gayla sent in a call to Izzi Polakaya, the offensive coordinator, to tell her to get down here to campus immediately.

---

Alyda was confused. In the darkness, she couldn’t find Laurn. A campus safety officer had come around asking questions to the students in the courtyard, but most were too shaken to really be able to say much. Alyda knew that she probably wouldn’t be able to give a straight answer in her fit.

A large group started to assemble around the hall, most of them students from other dorms who had come out to see what all the commotion was about. It was a huge gaggle of students, staff, and faculty, all coming together in the darkness to check on Mepler and its residents. Finally a floodlight was switched on, bathing the scene in its glare. Alyda had to squint to see, because the darkness was being illuminated by the whiteness of the bulb.

Then she could see Gayla, her fellow starting midfielder on the Limmie team. She was speaking to someone that Alyda couldn’t tell, but the freshman didn’t care. She was starting to cry, and knew that she needed someone to help calm her down. Her feet carried her towards Gayla, towards the rather imposing senior. She was unsure what Gayla would make of this, with her attitude and all. Perhaps she, in her moment of need, would be rebuffed by the team captain. There was no telling what would happen.

“Alyda!” Gayla shouted. “What’s going on?”

Alyda buried her head into Gayla’s shoulder. She hadn’t been rebuffed yet, that was good. But Alyda wasn’t in the mood to find any sense of victory in this moment.

“It’s . . . it’s . . . terrible!” Alyda sobbed, choking several times as she spoke.

“I heard gunshots,” Gayla said. “Are you OK?”

“I’m . . . fine . . .” Alyda said, still sobbing.

“What happened?” Izzi asked. She had to speak up due to the din from the crowd.

“I don’t . . . remember . . . much . . .” Alyda said, still choking back the tears as they ran down her face. “I . . . I was sleeping . . . and then someone pulled . . . pulled . . . the fire alarm. My roommate and I figured that it was a drill . . . we’ve been due for one for the term . . . we didn’t think anything of it . . . so we went downstairs and into the courtyard . . . like we’re supposed to . . . and then we heard gunshots. They were . . . coming from every direction. All I can remember were the screams as . . . as . . . it was chaos . . . bodies falling everywhere. People . . . crying . . . for help, I don’t know where they were coming from. It was . . . dark . . . I couldn’t see a thing. I could . . . hear . . . a shot going right past my . . . head . . . my roommate disappeared in the crowd . . . it was hell . . . I’ve never been so scared in my life. We were trapped . . . in by the buildings . . . there was nowhere to go . . . those who went back in . . . were cut down . . . I don’t know where Laurn is, I don’t . . . know if she’s OK . . . where is the rest . . . of the team . . .?” She couldn’t continue as the floodgates opened, and tears streamed down her face as she buried her face further into Gayla’s shoulder. That hadn’t made much sense, but neither had this situation. It was all a terrible cacophony in her mind, and the tears kept flowing. She was scared.

Broody Rootiger came up soon after, but Alyda lost track of the conversation. She had to find Laurn. Where was her friend? Police officers were starting to show up, as had medical staff. More floodlights were now bathing the area in question, and the sights of bodies became more evident as they lay on the grass. There was an ambulance, starting to move the first of the bodies. And then she saw Laurn lying there on the grass. She had to go to her friend’s side. With some effort, she broke the bear hug Gayla had been giving her and ran over to Laurn’s side. She checked for a pulse, but found none. Her friend was dead. “Noooooo!!!” she screamed out painfully. This wasn’t true; Laurn couldn’t be dead! This was just a terrible dream! She would pinch herself and wake up in her bed, probably having slept in for her study time. She closed her eyes and pinched herself. When she reopened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Laurn’s dead body, sprawled out there on the grass before her. Alyda began to cry again, and grabbed Laurn’s hand. It was stiff and cold, but it was her friend’s, so Alyda didn’t want to let go.

Gayla went over and put a hand on Alyda’s shoulder, but the freshman wouldn’t move. “There’s nothing you can do,” Gayla said. “You have to let her go, Alyda. She’s gone.”

“No!” Alyda shouted, her tears coming more fast and furious now. “Why me? I wasn’t there to save her!” At this time, a medic came over and tried to calm Alyda down.

“You have to let your friend go,” he said calmly. “Nothing you do can bring her back.”

“Ack!” Alyda grunted as she tried unsuccessfully to continue holding her roommates’ hand, but Gayla grabbed her from behind and pulled her away from the body. The medic produced a stretcher, and placed the girl’s body softly into the tube, finally putting a white sheet over it signifying that she was among the dead.

“I’m sorry,” the medic said. Alyda buried her face into Gayla’s shoulder once again, her tears flowing as furiously as ever. Laurn was gone, and now Alyda was left in this cold, cruel galaxy with one less friend.

---

The rest of the night for Alyda had been spent in Gayla and Reena’s dorm room. However, despite the seniors trying to coax her to sleep, Alyda couldn’t. She could only think of Laurn’s cold body lying there on the ground with blood. That image pervaded her mind, and she could only cry as she thought about it.

The next day, Alyda hadn’t left the dorm room, even though the rest of the team had gone to the stadium with the student population to learn what had happened the night before. It eventually became known that current and former CorTech students were behind the shooting, and that over 100 students had been killed, with 80-some injured. Laurn had been one of many murdered like that, and Alyda had been inconsolable for many days afterwards.

Days later, with the whole galaxy watching, CorTech had gone up against Chandrila A&M University in their scheduled game. It had been a somber event, with the CorTech team falling behind fast and not being able to catch up. But they had done what they could, and that was what mattered. Coach Martin Locke had told Alyda that she could stay back on campus, allowing Javan Harpor to start across from Gayla. Gayla had done all she could in the loss, but it hadn’t been enough. For Alyda, those days had been complete agony. She was angry at the murderers, but when she got angry enough, she just sank back down onto the floor and cried.

---

Gayla put her hand on Alyda’s shoulder. “I know it’s hard to move on,” Gayla said. “But I’d like to think that I was there for you when you needed someone to lean on.”

“Yeah, about that . . .” Alyda replied. “I never really repaid you for that kindness.”

“Don’t mention it,” Gayla said. “It’s what teammates do. Anyways, it looks to me like you got past that and did quite well for yourself. I’d like to think I made a good impression on you after graduating.”

“Just want you to know that you’re going down today,” Alyda said with a mischievous grin on her face. She certainly had moved on from those depressing thoughts.

“We’ll see about that,” Gayla said. “Remember, I still have quite a few things in my bag o’ tricks that you don’t know about, and couldn’t have studied.”

“So?”

“Don’t expect me to let you win,” Gayla said with a wink. “This is for all the marbles.”

“And that’s why we’re going to win,” Alyda replied.

“I can see that my gritty attitude did kinda rub off onto you,” Gayla noted.

“Exactly. I’m not going to let you push me around like you did in college,” Alyda said.

“Good luck, then,” Gayla said. “And may the best team win.” She turned around to go.

“Gayla?” Alyda asked. Gayla stopped dead in her tracks and looked back. “I never properly got to mention this, for what you and Reena did for me four years ago. You didn’t have to take me in . . . but you did anyways . . . so I want to say . . . thanks. Thanks for everything.”

“Don’t mention it,” Gayla replied. She then returned to the Senator warm up area, where she was immediately accosted by her teammates. But only Reena and Tank really understood, and that was the way Gayla liked it. What had occurred at CorTech had been four years ago. Both she and Alyda had grown up since then and moved on, so it was old news. What was important now was not the past, but instead the future. And, for both former Mean Green midfielders, the sky seemed to be the limit.

---

IC: Gark S’rily

Gark looked out upon the field at Banker’s Mansion for the first time, or, at least, the first time in quite a while. This place seemed familiar, but maybe there had been enough renovations since the last time the Senators visited that he just didn’t recognize it. And then it hit him; the Senators had been her in 272. That had been the week . . . that had been the week of his “death” at the hands of Calo Mornd. That had been the week where he had almost died, where he had stayed in the shadows, hoping to make good on the once chance he had to make things right. He hadn’t been with the team that week, so of course he had not been here. At least this time he was alive.

Then his stomach told him that it needed attention. He thought of what food he had brought along with him for this game, but none of it sounded that great. What he wanted was a good ol’-fashioned burger, one that you could find at the concession stand at just about any sports venue. Yeah, a burger dripping in condiments and other fixings. But how to get one when your face was known all across the Republic, and you would instantly be mobbed by fans wanting your autograph. Either that, or the Starkiller fans would like to take a shot at him.

Finally, he made a decision. He was going down to one of the concession stands. Me’lin wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but he talked her into it. Donning a ball cap that was about two sizes too big (you could never be too careful when you wanted to keep your identity hidden), Gark descended in the lift to the ground-level concession stand. Here he waited in line for several minutes before getting a chance to order. It had been ages since the last time he had been in a position like this, out and about with the fans. The burger came in a nicely-prepared tray, or at least what that entailed for a sporting venue, and Gark made sure to pour quite a bit of condiment on the item. Adding in a couple of fixings, and then picking up the pretzel and veggie burger that he was taking back up with him for his wife (or for anyone else so inclined), he returned to the lift and eventually made his way back to the box.

“How’d it go?” Me’lin asked when Gark entered.

“Not bad,” Gark replied. “I wasn’t mobbed, so that’s a plus. Got you some stuff,” he said. “I couldn’t carry any more, though.” He placed the items down on the counter, and then sat at one of the high stools. Me’lin joined him up there and took a bite of her food.

“This is pretty good,” she said after swallowing her first bite.

“Yep,” Gark replied. He picked up his burger and began to munch on it. Drops of condiments began to drop out the other side of the bun, but Gark didn’t care. Only the taste mattered, not how many napkins it would take to clean up.

“Don’t be such a pig,” Me’lin commented, disgusted.

“What?” Gark asked with a shrug. “I’m hungry.”

“It’s not very lord-like to do that, you know,” the Twi’lek said.

“It’s not supposed to be,” Gark replied, wiping off a drop of gooey condiment that was hanging on his chin. “Besides, I didn’t think you adhered to that kind of lifestyle any more than I do.”

“At least I don’t try to make a mess in front of others,” Me’lin replied. “Besides, at least I try to look presentable when I’m eating, especially in front of polite company.”

“Eh, I’ll clean up after myself,” Gark said.

“By which you mean I’ll end up cleaning it up for you,” Me’lin said.

“Yes, if you would be so kind. I think I have a bit of sauce over next to my mouth,” Gark said with a smirk. “You might have to lick it off, because it might be crusted.”

“You’re terrible,” his wife replied.

“Hey, it’s been forever since I’ve had one of these,” Gark said. “I should be allowed to enjoy a guilty pleasure once in a while.”

“You realize I’m just being hard on you, right?” Me’lin asked.

“Yeah,” Gark said.

“So, not to break up the serious couple time, but what about this game?” Londy Whiste asked. He had taken food from the table in the box and was now sitting down to eat it.

“It’s going to be a tough one,” Gark said. “These Starkillers seem rather confident about their game these days. Pam needs to give the team some confidence, and the knowledge that they can beat these guys.”

“If we lose?”

“Then we have more of an uphill climb,” Gark said. “But we won’t be out of contention, either. Preferably, I’d like a win here. Oh, and another burger, but I think that’s out of the question.”

This chatter continued to the beginning of the game, when everyone in the box stared down onto the field as the game began. Like Gark had said, this was a huge game with quite a few implications. The Senators could certainly use a win.


TAG: Runjedirun

NOTE: I think this provides some closure for that old storyline of mine.
EDIT: Yes, I got permission to use Alyda here.

 

GM Post
Limmie Hall of Fame, Empress Teta

Limmie fans from throughout the galaxy had gathered for one of the biggest days in the entire sport. It had nothing to do with the Elite League, at least not directly. The Pikemen hadn’t played Elite League ball in years. No, it had everything to do with one of the greatest shrines to the sport in the entire galaxy: the Limmie Hall of Fame.

Annually the trustees of the Hall of Fame gave a select group of beings the privilege of voting on the induction of significant beings to sport into the Hall. Those beings could have played at any level of the sport: college, Elite League, and everything in between. The Hall was dedicated the accomplishments of the greatest ever. There were players from the Elite League like Tan Strensky. There were Premier League coaches like Marte Nalo. There were active legends like Reina Kether. There were Golden Age stalwarts like Jipoly Numifolis. Election to the Hall were reserved for the truly amazing figures of the sport, not the passing fads.

Today, those giants would be joined by more.

Outside the entrance to the Hall walked a stately Kaminoan. He might have been far from the stormy waves of Kamino, but the Hall of Fame attracted all sorts. “Greetings,” the Kaminoan said, “It is my honor to announce the results of the 275 Limmie Hall of Fame induction voting.” The limmie fans who had gathered for this event cheered.

“The votes have been reviewed and tabulated by third party accountants, who at the close of today’s announcement will make their report available to the media. This ensures the accuracy of all of our voting and preserves the historic high standards that the Hall of Fame takes in all aspects of the game.

“Our first inductee is recently retired from the sport. She possesses one of the most impressive trophy cabinets in the history of the sport. This includes Salbukk Awards in 262, 267, and 270; Numifolis Awards in 267 and 270; the Duchess Eldin Award and Zumtak Award in 273. Most importantly, in her 12 year career she won the Galactic Cup three times in 261, 267, and 270. I speak of course of perhaps one of the finest goalkeepers to ever step on the field.”

A certain segment of fans in burgundy and black had begun howling early on and had only gotten louder and was about to erupt into a crescendo. “In 275, the Limmie Hall of Fame is pleased to welcome Meredith Chambers-Vayne.

“Our second inductee spent his entire career with the Coruscant Senators, where he spearheaded a renaissance of limmie in what was once viewed as a wasteland of limmie. As captain, he took the Senators to a record six Galactic Cup Final and had his name inscribed on the Cup in 262 and 268. He was nominated for the Duchess Eldin Award in 272 and was known as one of the most stalwart defenders in the Elite League. It is no stretch to say that without him, Coruscant would not be the team of the Kayl’hen Era.”

Already the Senator fans in black and orange were cheering because they, like everyone else, knew what name was coming next.

“It is my pleasure to announce that in 275, Dirxx Horstse will be inducted into the Limmie Hall of Fame.

“Finally, our third and final inductee played for 28 years in the Elite League. He won the 220 Ingbrand Award as rookie of the year in 220 as a member of the Galactic Cup champion Chandrila Patriots, anchoring the corner back position while a similarly young being named Tan Strensky worked his magic at the other end of the field. He was a member of the 228, 229, and 230 Patriot Galactic Cup championship teams, winning the Salbukk in 228.”

Now the Patriot fans in attendance knew who they were talking about and they started to cheer. The Smuggler fans, however, were hissing a little bit. They remembered this player for a particular hit in the 230 Galactic Cup Final.

“After being traded to the Empress Teta Pikemen where he would stay for 12 seasons—” now a large portion of the crowd cheered for the hometown team and they had a good idea who was being discussed, “—he won two more Salbukk Awards, appeared in his fifth Galactic Cup Final in 242. He then spent four years on Corulag where he won another Galactic Cup in 246. He finished his career as a Kuat Triforce.

“As our final Hall of Fame inductee, the Limmie Hall of Fame welcomes, Hris Helios, who will enter the Hall as a member of the Empress Teta Pikemen.”

The hometown folks loved that.

Meredith Chambers-Vayne. Dirxx Horstse. Hris Helios. Three names would be inscribed in the annals of limmie history in 275.

TAG: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja jcgoble3 Jedi Gunny Rebecca_Daniels Runjedirun Tim Battershell Vehn

Details on the Hall of Fame induction will be worked out by the players involved. Stay tuned until then.

 

IC: Kaitlyn Vehn
New Vertica, Nar Shaddaa, Media Presser



“Ladies and gentlemen,” Kaitlyn began, “after months of development and conference calls with fans, it is my distinct pleasure to reveal the most advanced stadium in the galaxy, soon to be built right here on Nar Shaddaa. Welcome, Smugglers fans, to Six Boroughs!”

The room darkened as a sizeable holoprojection dominated the media center, encompassing the audience, the view of the stadium rotating and zooming in while music played in the background. There were loud cheers from the media and assorted fans, a far cry from a press conference earlier in the year where there had been considerable backlash to the plan. The fierce outcry against a new stadium bearing the hallowed name of Six Boroughs had nearly resulted in riots but those protests had been over funding and not the principle of the matter which any true fan of the Smugglers recognized: the Smugglers needed a new home. Kaitlyn had ceased to pursue public funding and charted a new course, an unorthodox course, for the league and decided to fund the stadium herself.



“Six Boroughs will have increased seating capacity putting total occupancy up to around 250,000 beings. After talking with season ticket holders, I pushed hard to move the stands closer to the field. Well, I can tell you that we have succeeded in that vision. Not only will fans be able to experience Elite League Limmie on a totally new level but our home field ambience, already venerable, will definitely be felt by opposing teams. If people thought Six Boroughs was intimidating now, just wait until they play a game in this venue.”

The view zoomed in on the field.



(Ignore the blue flag)

“As the owner of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers, I want our team to have the best facilities, the best care, and I want us to send a signal to the galaxy that player safety and modern facilities are the only way to improve the league going forward. Nar Shaddaa has been very kind to the Smugglers franchise. Now, I am proud to say, it is our turn to reward the city and the people with a stadium worthy of our beloved heroes in the burgundy and black. We’ll have the latest advancements in seat comfort, grass technology, modern locker rooms, weight rooms, and other amenities required to keep a franchise in peak condition.”

She paused, collected her thoughts.

“I know that I am an unpopular figure in the Limmie world. I’ve taken a historic franchise and made something new of a very old mold. I’m not looking for pity. I’m not looking for sympathy. But I am looking to take Nar Shaddaa to the uncharted waters of a tenth Galactic Cup final and I’m going to need the support of the media and the support of the fans. I will admit, Nar Shaddaa is a hard place to live. Lots of people struggle here and jobs can be a little scarce at times. But there’s nothing wrong with hope. There’s nothing wrong with fighting for what you believe in and I believe that building a new stadium for the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers is the right thing to do. I’m not asking for your money, the time for that is past. But I am asking you, the people of the Vertical City, to trust and believe that the Smugglers can be great again. I know this year has been hard and there have been a lot of changes. But it’s not over. It is far from over. This up and coming week we play Ylesia and later in the year Six Boroughs is host to a renewed All-Star game. Let us start the road to recovery with a victory this week against the Lightning. Let us continue along our path to dominance by sending several of our players as representatives of this storied franchise to the All-Star game and immortality.”

Now the politician in her was stirring for the first time in nearly a year. Now she could feel the old fires burning in her belly. Now she could begin to understand why people loved this team. It was more than a franchise. It was a way of life for the Vertical City. It was a way of life that kept so many young kids in school, focused on their studies, despite the miserable conditions at home.

Yes, Kaitlyn Vehn felt something stir inside of her. Something she hadn’t felt in a really long time. As she stared out at the darkened faces of the media, the cameras recording her every word, Vehn knew what she had to say. Not because it was forced but because she knew in her heart of hearts that people on the Smugglers Moon literally depended on the Smugglers, and by connection, her, to steer their lives to a better place. Building a new stadium would do that. Changing the uniforms had done that. Visiting the Valor Foundation and listening to that young man console his dying father had done that. And that experienced her changed her life for the better as well. Yes, she had changed. And yes, she had found a cause worth fighting for again. A cause she could believe in through every fiber of her being. A cause that made a difference.

Renewed energy flowing through her, Kaitlyn continued to speak, “When the fleets of that rebel leader Alexander Speyburn had Druckenwell in a stranglehold, did I back down? No! When the Republican Senate initially balked at the idea of trade with the RTO did I back down? No! So when the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers are looking to improve and get better in all areas, I promise to you, the people of the Vertical City, that I will not back down! Jobs will be provided and you, the fans, the people, will one day look back at this great undertaking and say to your children and grandchildren, “I built that stadium!”, I am a part of Smugglers history!”

Cheers, endless cheers as Kaitlyn stepped away from the podium.

It was good to be back.

It was good to be alive.

It was good to feel like she had a cause worth fighting for again.

Tag: No One