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

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

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  1. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 8
    IC: Ava Killenger
    Beachhead Resort, Wroona

    Ava walked down the shuttle ramp towards the resort, her bag slung over her shoulder. So this was the famed resort where the Senators now conducted training camp. On the trip over, she had heard that while this was a nice getaway planet, and certainly beat working out on Coruscant, that nothing would be given to her for free. She would have to earn every ounce of her roster spot here, because the franchise was not known for letting players get off easily. This was going to likely be the most grueling month of her life.

    As she hit the end of the ramp, she could see most of the team heading over to the resort, many of them chatting with each other like long-time friends. It was easy to pick out the veterans: Jerek Deter, Alysha Romax, Izzi Polakaya. But at least she wasn’t alone in this venture; the Senators had been shuffling the reserve deck a little over the offseason, which included bringing her into the fold. Also, with the terrible season on Thyferra in 274, that roster had seen a major overhaul, which meant new players. Undoubtedly she wasn’t the only new one to the Elite League. However, what bothered her about that was how good these new Thyferran players were going to do. Given that both teams had joint camp over the next month, she would see an awful lot of them as well as her own teammates with the Senators. But would she make the team? Unlike previous years, where the Thyferra roster had known commodities, this year it was more of a mixed bag. She, like the organization, had no real idea who was good and who wasn’t. And from the looks of it, her spot at Half Forward might be up in the air, especially due to the presence of one Thulius Jomas, a new signing from Pirtolanda State University who stood at 6’5, which allowed him to almost tower over her. From what she heard, this guy knew the offense that the new offensive coordinator for Thyferra would run, so there was his advantage. Perhaps he could use that to steam past her, who had to learn the offense, and make the Senators. And then the team had brought in a Wookiee from the free agent pool after the Draft. Just her luck.

    Ava got in line and then approached Pamila Korthe, the Zeltron Head Coach for the Senators. She looked up as Ava approached, and then looked down at her roster sheet. “Killenger,” she said. “Room 346. Here is your key,” she finished, handing Ava a key card with the number “346” printed on it in big black letters.

    “Thanks,” Ava said half-heartedly. But in her mind she was anything but. This felt like a real badge of honor, getting a key card room key. She had finally made it. With that, she followed the players into the resort and over to the lift. All the while she picked up pieces of conversation.

    “Looks like we need to break in the new blood a little bit,” Jerek said to Reid Livingstone, the corner starting opposite him. It was obvious that he was jesting. “You know, pull down their pants when they aren’t looking.”

    “You do realize we have a new girl there, right?” Reid asked. “Pulling a prank like that might have . . . bad consequences, dude.”

    “Hm, didn’t think of that,” Jerek said, slightly shocked by this news. “OK, scrap that plan.”

    “I think I have the small things down this season,” Demetra Silkins commented to Izzi Polakaya. “Played a lot of ELL ‘75 this offseason, so I think I can do better. Maybe an All-Star nod if I’m lucky.”

    “Dream on,” Izzi said.

    “So, little man, you think you have what it takes to start?” Maximus Qorbus said to Cord McKerty, who was quite small compared to the tall Nautolan.

    “I got an Ingbrand nom, so I think I can do pretty much anything,” Cord replied.

    “Of course you can,” Reena Wyley said.

    “How in the hell are we going to implement this new offense in such a short time?” Jed Ortmeyer asked his Echani offensive coordinator, Sulena Gure.

    “We’ll make it work. I don’t think you’re giving this a fair shake,” she said.

    “You better be right,” Jed said.

    Ava ascended in the lift and was finally at her room. She slid the key card through the slot and entered, shutting the door behind her. She could hear some rustling in the room, and knew that she wasn’t alone. Coming around the corner, she could see another woman inside, unpacking her bag on the far-side bed near the window. She stood about as tall as Ava did, probably the exact same height, with brown-blonde hair. “Hi,” she said. “I take it you’re my new roomie?”

    “I guess,” Ava replied, shrugging as she tossed her bag onto the other bed.

    “I’m Christine Gamble,” the other woman said.

    “Ava Killenger,” Ava replied.

    “Nice to meet you,” Christine said. She pulled out a ruffled gray t-shirt and laid it on the bed. “What position you play?”

    “Half forward,” Ava said as she started going through her things.

    “CorTech?” Christine suddenly asked.

    “Yeah . . . why?” Ava asked.

    “I think we tangled once or twice in college,” Christine explained. “I probably put in a hit or two on you at some point.”

    “I seem to get hit on a lot, and not just by men looking to score,” Ava said in a wry manner. Christine chuckled.

    “Yeah, it’s a rough life being a forward. It’s why I picked up defense early on. You get to hit people, and they likely won’t hit back. You forwards are too scared to get in there and try to run people over.”

    “Well, defenders can’t carry the ball for the life of them,” Ava responded.

    “True enough,” Christine said. “I went to Ord Sabaok, by the way. I know we were in the other conference, but I really think I remember you. Maybe. It must just be a figment of my imagination.”

    “I think you were pretty good at figuring that out,” Ava said as she finished unpacking her bag. “I didn’t recognize you.”

    “You probably will after today,” Christine replied. “We’re going to be in practice against each other, likely as twos. I don’t know how much of a shot I have to crack the starting rotation at corner back. Deter’s got a stranglehold on that left spot, and I don’t know what to think of Livingstone . . . he’s got three years on me in the pros. And this other guy, don’t remember the name, who just got brought in, he won a Galactic Cup or two, I heard. Tough crowd to work with . . . but I figure that I might as well go out there and show ‘em what I’ve got. I wasn’t a first-round pick because I sat on my ass playing video games all day long.”

    “I haven’t paid attention to who I’m going up against here,” Ava said. “Just the new players from the D-League team.”

    “Mm, that Jomas guy’s kinda handsome . . .” Christine said. When she saw that Ava had a worried look on her face, she stopped. “Look, you’ll do fine. You got direct signed by the team before the Draft, right? I think that means they want you to play up here, not down there. Besides, there might be an opportunity after all to get on the team. There’s one open spot, right?”

    “Right, but . . .”

    “That’s one spot to fight for. Sure you’ll be stuck at the end of the bench, but it’s here, and not down somewhere else.”

    “I guess so . . .”

    “Eh, you’ve got a month to worry about it. But that’s a month where you can just get out and enjoy the surf, too. Not bad being able to come here, get in some training, a game or two, and to be able to stay at a resort. This is pretty swank,” Christine said.

    “Lot of work to do,” Ava said.

    “Oh come on, this isn’t all about training. Get out and enjoy yourself a little bit,” Christine said.

    “All right,” Ava said, nodding. “I’ll get out. Maybe there are some clubs downtown that I can go to. Get some drinks.”

    “Now you’re talking,” Christine said. She was now sitting on her bed with her legs crossed. “So, tell me a bit more about yourself. What do you do for fun?”

    The next hour was spent by the two of them talking it up. By the end of it, Ava felt that Christine wasn’t a half-bad roomie. Maybe this would be a pretty good month, despite all the hard work?

    “You wanna check this place out?” Christine finally asked. Camp wouldn’t start until tomorrow, and it was only mid-day now, so they had time to kill.

    “Sure,” Ava replied.

    “Glad I brought my swimsuit,” Christine said. “This planet doesn’t disappoint for weather.”

    Minutes later, the two of them, decked out in just their swimwear, headed down to the pool. This gave pause to some of the single guys on the two teams, who stared as the two attractive women passed by. Ganlin Costa, a Kiffar full forward for Thyferra, was so oblivious to where he was going that he smacked right into a pole while watching the two women pass. Almert Song, one of the few Thyferra holdovers from last season, whistled his interest as he passed by, although his destination was likely not more important than this sight. Christine then gave a sly wink to Levi Corner, a Thyferra midfielder, and the fresh-faced kid blushed bright red. The two of them finally sidled up to the bar.

    “Bartender, two martinis,” Christine said. The droid began to serve the drinks up, and then asked “Shaken or stirred?”

    “Shaken,” Christine said.

    “Stirred,” Ava said at almost the same time. The droid would have rolled its eyes if it had real optical organs, and finished making the drinks. Then the women took them over to two open deck chairs next to the pool and sat down. A couple others were here at the pool as well, Jam Tarpals, the Gungan goalie for Thyferra, in the pool along with Thyferra midfielder Mekmek, a Mon Calamari.

    “I think this is going to be a good month,” Christine said as she finally relaxed in her chair. “Resort planet, the ocean to view, our own pool to splash around in, good drinks, lots of hot guys, and a roomie that doesn’t suck. Here’s to training camp, and to good careers.” The two of them toasted, and then drank their martinis. Ava had to admit; this was a pretty good way to start camp.

    TAG: No One
    Bardan_Jusik, Vehn, jcgoble3 and 2 others like this.
  2. Trieste Force Ghost

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

    "Good morning everyone," Kayl'hen said, entering the press briefing room for her weekly presser, "I'll be devoting the majority of my comments today by the biggest issue facing the League at the moment, which is the state of Andromeda Steel Corp. Field and its impact on the Elite League schedule.

    "The Senators are moving forward with plans to build a new stadium for the team that meet the Elite League specifications for a new stadium. In the interim, which is currently expected to be just the 275 season, the Senators have proposed a plan of rotating home venues through local universities in the Super 16 Conference. The League has performed inspections of all of these facilities to make sure they meet or exceed the minimum qualifications set by the League for games. The six stadiums, which are the Coruscant Air Fleet Academy, Coruscant Polytechnic University, National University, Republican University, University of Coruscant, and Valorum University, have all been inspected by officials from the Elite League and have been deemed acceptable. The Senators, universities, and League are currently working together to put together a schedule of what games will take place where. We want to make sure that visiting teams know exactly where they will be playing. We don't want visiting teams to have to deal with any uncertainty that they wouldn't have if they were playing at Andromeda Steel Corp. Field.

    "On that note, the League is pleased to announce that we have recently submitted a one million credit donation to the Senator's building fund as a service to an anonymous donor," Kayl'hen said.

    "Questions?"

    TAG: @Jedi Gunny and the anonymous donor, who could it be?!?!
  3. Vehn Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Sep 14, 2009
    star 4
    IC: Kaitlyn Vehn
    Nar Shaddaa Smugglers Training Facility, New Vertica, Nar Shaddaa


    “And one, and two, and three, and four,” Meredith Chambers barked, clapping a deadly cadence, as she worked Roz Cartel through his progressions.

    The young goalkeeper who hadn’t done that bad of a job last season in the box handily knocked down or batted away the numerous balls that were flying at him from players and machines alike. Roz had earned the starting spot last season and had turned in a modest inaugural year at one of the most pivotal positions in Elite League Limmie. The guy had the smarts and athleticism and now all he needed to do to take the next step in his sophomore season would be to put it all together. And, like so many things in life, that was easier said than done.

    Meredith blew the whistle and called Roz over. Roz jogged to his coach, bent over, panted, took a long swig of water and then looked at the Hall of Famer and listened. Listened because Meredith knew a thing or two about winning pivotal games and knew a thing or two about what it took to be the best at your game and all that you could possibly be.

    “You’re playing it safe, Roz. To be one of the best you have to put it all on the line. I know you can do better. All I see you out there is a lot of reaction, but no initiative. You’ve got to dominate, you hear me? You’ve got to own the box and the space around it. There can be no hesitation. There can be no doubt. You have to go in for the kill, quick, easy, and hard. Show no mercy because you aren’t going to receive any, you got me? Square your stance and look for the unseen. It’s not the strike that you see that kills you it’s the one you don’t see. So go out there and show me you want this. If you don’t, I’ve got some other people on the bench who are hungry and wouldn’t blink an eye at replacing you. Do you want this?” Meredith asked.

    “Yes!”

    “I don’t hear you!”

    “Yes!” Roz screamed.

    “Then get out there and show me!” Meredith roared as she shoved Roz off back toward the goal. She blew a whistle and the drill resumed.

    Kaitlyn stood near Tover Micjaa who had a bird’s eye view of the entire training field. Even when he listened to her speak he still kept his attention on the field and nothing escaped his eye. She watched Meredith put Roz Cartel in his place and smiled. This was what playing in the Elite League was all about. There could be no errors. There could be no hesitation. Playing at this level required sacrifices and the general manager was pleased to see that this year the pieces of the team seemed to really be coming together. They’d had a year of hard earned experience creep into their belt. They’d made the playoffs. But it was never enough. There was always more. There could only be more. Everyone was hungry for the Galactic Cup. Everyone was hungry for success and last year’s playoff victory at Old Six Boroughs hadn’t been enough. Would never be enough. Now was the time, Kaitlyn thought, to really push hard and take command of the Skywalker Conference once and for all.

    Her attention shifted to the rest of the half backs who were gathered around Dvorak as he taught them a few new schemes using his hands to demonstrate what he was saying. There was Ken Zetter, last year’s team captain, Ike Tullo, rookie Zen Keisel, Bree Tarth, Mira Kashvili, and Wilhulf Nexrus. There were a few new faces but Kaitlyn knew that the stout defensive unit that had bent but not broken last year under the immense offensive firepower of the league’s best would trend upward at the right time. Now, with another year under their belts in this particular system, they’d shown what they could do in the friendly game against the Bakura Miners but even then Kaitlyn knew that wasn’t a true test of what this team’s potential was. She’d reviewed a lot of film of last year’s team during the busy off-season and Vehn knew that the defense had to take better angles to attack. That they had to hit hard and decisively, to force the other team to react to their moves, but all of that could change in a matter of seconds. Teams that were studied rarely applied the same look in game and that was where veterans were needed. Well, most of the defense had seen the best and worst of the Elite League and the multifarious looks of other teams’ offensive programs. Now, they needed to be a unit that was respected once more in the league and took no prisoners.

    And last year’s biggest surprise had been the offense. A unit that had lain dormant for the last few years, dismal years by anyone’s standards, had suddenly surged under the careful nurturing guidance of John Huntington, himself a former Chandrila Patriot and a Galactic Cup Champion of the 267 Nar Shaddaa Smuggler squad. The only new face to the Smugglers offensive lineup had been 275 draftee Shady Lerouex who had replaced Beck Thornton at Corner Forward when the aging veteran had shown signs of slowing down despite a still lethal arm. Led by the Amaran, Vick McTodd, the Smugglers had put up a respectable number of points last season in some high scoring games. Now, with a few tweaks, and with opposing teams having a plethora of film on last year’s team, Kaitlyn knew that the offense would have to adjust if it were to be as potent, if not more so, than in years past.

    “Run the play again,” John yelled through cupped hands.

    McTodd nodded and gathered the offensive unit into a tight huddle to dictate the play. When they broke, the attack formation was unlike any Kaitlyn had seen before. She wasn’t even sure what to describe it as but she’d seen glimpses of it during the friendly game against the Miners and the lethality of it reflected in the final score: 36 points.

    Veteran goalkeeper Gunba Pemiti, and the rest of the second string defense acting as the Chandrila Patriots, went head to head against the number ones and did their best to play in the way that the Patriots had throughout much of last year. There were the press-man coverage, there were the sneaky chip blocks, there were all the little dirty things that had come to define the Burgundy and Green Brawl and still the Smugglers tore gaping holes in the formation to put points under the bar and above as if nobody was defending.

    “They’re looking good, Tover,” Kaitlyn said casually.

    “Yeah, well, there’s no substitute for the real thing,” Tover replied. “We’re not playing ourselves out there. We’re playing the Chandrila Patriots. Kether will have a few surprises in store, I’m sure. We beat them by two points last year. I’d like to widen that margin, significantly.”

    “Rub her face in the mud?” Kaitlyn teased.

    “Maybe a little, you know, remind her how much I owned her in the past,” Tover laughed.

    “Right,” Kaitlyn said.

    “I like what you did with the new stadium. Personally, I think it was long overdue. You’ve really taken charge of this team, Kaitlyn, you’ve got their loyalty, now, we just need to capitalize on that and bring home the Cup,” Tover said.

    “I’m only as good as those around me, Tover.”

    “Then we’re in good hands,” Tover said.

    “That we are,” Kaitlyn replied. “That we are.”




    To: Elite League Offices, Comissioner Kayl’hen
    From: Kaitlyn Vehn
    Subject: Final Bid

    Dear Commissioner Kayl’hen,

    Once again it is my esteemed pleasure to present to you a bid from the Vertical City for the 275 Galactic Cup Final to be held in our beloved new stadium. You won’t find a better venue in the galaxy to hold what should arguably be one of the greatest games
    in all of sportsdom.

    As you are well aware, Nar Shaddaa commands one of the larger media markets in the galaxy and we all know that the League could benefit from a stronger personal relationship with the Outer Rim clubs. So, let’s help one another out here. We help you indirectly through our work with the Valor Foundation and in exchange you award us the Galactic Cup Final site as a way of spreading the goodness of Elite League Limmie to the Vertical City. Times are hard and the increased revenue and jobs that a Galactic Cup hosting would bring could only further cement the wonderful legacy of the ELL on the Smuggler’s Moon.

    Please consider our generous offer at your convenience.

    I look forward to seeing you at the annual Board of Governors meeting.

    All the best,

    Kaitlyn Vehn

    There, the bid was sent.

    The 275 Limmie season was right around the corner and from her office Kaitlyn could almost hear Six Boroughs shake with eager anticipation.

    Tag: @Trieste for league stuff.....
    Trieste and Bardan_Jusik like this.
  4. Bardan_Jusik Mand'alor - Manager of the EUC, SWC and Spinoffs

    Manager
    Member Since:
    Dec 14, 2009
    star 10
    IC: Jacen Hunter
    Hunter household, Coronet City, Corellia. Several months ago.


    "Take that you Lizard scum!" Jacen whispered harshly as his green armored Marauder Mando action figure "kicked" at one of his new Ssi-ruuk toys. The red scaled lizard counterpart fell over and was knocked off his bed, clattering to the floor. Jacen froze for a second and looked towards his closed doorway. It was past his bedtime and he was supposed to be asleep. His mother would not be happy to know he was staying up and playing war with his action figures. It was also the reason why he was whispering instead of shouting.

    He just couldn't help himself, his father had gone away on business a few days ago, and was supposed to be coming back sometime tonight. He wished he could have stayed up to greet his father, or maybe even meet him at the spaceport, but Mom had said no. His father would take a hover-cab back. Jacen listened carefully now as he continued watchign the door, there was no sound of his mother coming up the stairs, no turning if his door knob or his mother scolding him for staying up playing. She must not have heard the new action figure hit the floor. Jacen slowly and quietly got out of bed to retrieve it and continue his battle.

    The new toys were his prized possessions, his father had gotten them for him right before he left on this trip. They were a Ss-Ruuk battlepack expansion set for his Marauder Mando action figures. There was a real life war going on out there among the stars, and now Jacen could recreate the action in the safety of his own home. Or at least that's what the box had said. He had kept it, if he could get two more expansion packs (or other Marauder Mando actions figures) he could send in their GPC codes for a free Bakuran Marine action figure. Jacen didn't know who they were, but he always liked having more action figures, and that one would be free!

    The toy recovered, he restarted the action. Using his finger he pretended it was a missile shot out from the Marauder Mando's jetpack, he corkscrewed his finger through the air (making the accompanying sound effects himself) before it hit the SSi-Ruuk in the leg. He "blew up" the red scaled soldier by tossing it gently in the air, making sure it would land back on his bed. He shook his head gently. It just wasn't the same if he couldn't be loud. Besides, his mother had taken away the spring loaded missiles from all his Marauder Mando toys. Something about a choking hazard, like he was going to chew on them or something.

    A noise from downstairs caught his attention and removed any thought of his play from his mind. It was the front door closing and talking. He recognized the voice, his father was home! Jacen jumped out of bed and cracked his door open so he could hear better. He would get in trouble if his Mom knew he was still awake, but he wanted to hear his dad's voice. With the door open he could now hear some what his parents were discussing.

    "It's a good job, and more money than I am making here," his father said in some unheard question from Jacen's mother. He sounded tired to Jacen.

    "But it's so far away, the cost of moving...." She continued on but Jacen couldn't hear it. Moving? Moving where? Jacen's friend Peta had moved all the way to Bela Vistal. They had tried to keep in touch, but being 9 year old boys, hadn't kept up with it. Who was moving now, and where?

    "No dear, it's safe. The war is far from there. The war is why they're are hiring in the first place, lots going on at MandalMotors these days."

    "And what about school? We can't just pull Jacen out of school right now. I can't imagine what the schools are like there anyway!" His mother was getting excited, and not in a good way. Jacen knew his father would soon be telling her to calm down.

    "Calm down dear, I think they do mostly...homeschooling there. So you would be teaching him yourself."

    The silence that followed that told Jacen just the sort of look his father was getting now. Jacen had been on the receiving end of that scowl more times than he could count. His father tried again.

    "It's a promotion for me, a big one. I'll be a project manager." Still silence.

    "It is a significant raise, and the cost of living there is so low..." Yet more silence.

    "Jacen will be fine, we all will be." Finally Jacen's mother broke her silence.

    "You already accepted it didn't you?" Jacen couldn't hear the response, but assumed his father had nodded yes.

    "It's going to be OK. In a few years we can move back. I couldn't turn them down, it is just too good an opportunity to pass up."

    "And what about Jacen, what is he going to do on that mudpit of a planet? He is going to miss all of his friends so much!" Sobbing could be heard now.

    "He can make all new friends, he is a good kid. Besides, they gave me something we can all do...together."

    "SNIFF."

    "In addition to paying for our moving costs, a part of my compensation package includes season tickets to their Limmie squad!"





    IC: Jacen Hunter
    Meshla Vhetin, Mandalore. Friendly matchup against the defending Champion Chandrilla Patriots

    They had done it again, in a move designed to thumb their noses at the commissioner's office, the Mercs had scheduled a pre-season friendly against a fellow ELL team, one that they were not scheduled to play in the upcoming season. Last year they had done so with the Miners, and made a ridiculous amount of money in the process. This season, they had scheduled the defending Galactic Cup champions. To Jacen, who heard about all of this on Limmie Tonight while watching with his father, it had meant nothing except that he would be attending his first ever bolo ball match and the two teams would be real ELL squads. He could barely contain his excitement, it was the best thing that had happened since he had arrived on Mandalore just weeks after his father's acceptance of the job.

    The move itself had gone smoothly. Boxes had been packed, goodbyes said and then off they went, arriving here in Keldabe. They had found a small house on the outskirts of the city. The house was smaller than the one they had left on Coronet City, but it did have a neat basement that had been turned into Jacen's playroom. The yard was also enormous compared to what he was used to back home. It was wide open too, until one got to the treeline that surrounded it, almost a living privacy fence that allowed for him to play outside without his mother worrying too much about strangers trying to strike up a conversation with him.

    Not that such was a problem. He hadn't really met anyone his age yet. Without a central school there wasn't much opportunity to meet other kids his age. Their neighbors were all nearly a kilometer away, and the few kids his age he had seen while accompanying his mother on market days hadn't seemed too friendly. So far, he had been mostly alone here.

    But there was no being alone in the Meshla Vhetin, it seemed even larger in person then it had on the holo. And the people, they were like his Marauder Mando toys brought to life. All the clashing colors of their armor, the gutteral sounds of their speech and the spicy smells of their food combined to create an near overload of Jacen's senses. He loved it.

    "Out of the way aruetii!" came from one, probably a year or two younger than Jacen, but already wearing her own small set of armor. The young girl pushed past rudely on her way to one of the concession stands. Clutching his own ticket, Jacen grabbed a hold of his mother's hand and continued following them as they made their way to their own seats. As soon as they found them they sat down, looking around them as much as they were at the field far below. "Dad, what does ah rooo Ayt ee mean?" he asked, sounding the strange sounding word out. His father looked thoughtful for a moment before responding. "I hear that one a lot at work Jac, I think it means friend." Jacen accepted that, but from the way the girl had sounded, she hadn't been meaning to call him a friend...

    With 15 minutes to go before the start of the game Jacen started to get anxious. There were so many people around, and they all had real guns and armor. They didn't seem at all friendly though they seemed to pretty much ignore Jacen and his family. They were the only non-mandalorians in their section, and didn't seem to fit in at all. At least his father had worn his polo shirt with the MandalMotors logo stitched on the right breast pocket. Jacen though was beginning to feel exposed. Fortunately the game soon started and his feelings left him as soon as play began.

    Seeing the game live was amazing. The size and speed of the players on the field was astounding to Jacen who had only ever watched on the holo with his Dad from time to time. It seemed nothing like his copy of ELL 274 either. There were hard hits and smart players on the field that did their best to disrupt one another. Best of all there was no silly lines repeated over and over again until you had them memorized. This was real Limmie and it was awesome!

    Both teams came out with their starters for the first half, though the Mercs seemed to go through a lot more substitutions then did their counterparts. The game may have been a friendly, but both teams were playing to win. Jacen's father had explained it to him that this game didn't count, but both teams were playing for keeps out on the field. The lead changed hands numerous times during the first half, and the crowd went crazy with each one. They too were treating this game as seriously as they would any regular season one, or that's how it looked anyway.

    Jacen had no loyalties to either team coming into this match up, he was just excited to finally see a live game with his father, but as things went on he started to be swayed by the fans around him. He would stand and cheer along with everyone else when the Mercs scored. He would groan loudly a few minutes later as the Mercs would lose the lead. His father didn't seem to share his enthusiasm, though it looked like he was enjoying himself. He was a die hard Rebels fan, he could never bring himself to root for anyone else. Jacen's mother looked bored by the whole thing, and at times even dismayed.

    "Does the sport have to be so violent?" Jacen had heard her ask before she was shushed by his father.

    "Look around, all of these people are carrying guns and knives!" she had also shouted, hoping to not be overheard by others nearby, but trying to make Dad hear her over the noise.

    "Safest place in the Galaxy dear, who would try anything criminal here?"

    "And what if one of them decides to get too violent?" she had asked,motioning towards a particularly large Mandalorian in purple armor, a pair of blaster pistols in on his (her?) hip.

    "Honey, if any of these Mandalorians get out of hand, they aren't going to need a blaster to hurt us."

    That hadn't calmed her down any, if anything it made her even more anxious. As the half wound down, (with the Mercs ahead 14-13) she got up to leave. "I can't take any more of this. I am headed to the team shop." Jacen saw his Dad smile at that and after she had left he whispered to him. "At least she will be doing something she enjoys," he said with a wink.

    The halftime show went quickly, some marching band from the college on Ord Sabaok walked around and played music that didn't appeal to Jacen at all. He found himself wondering how long his mom would be in the team shop, but he forgot about that when the second half started.

    Neither team was using their starters now, it was all backups and reserves and even a few players looking to wrap up a roster spot. Jacen's dad explained how the Mercs had a developmental team on nearby Concordia where they sent players if they weren't quite up to ELL standards. From what happened in the second half Jacen wasn't sure anyone would get sent down to the minor leagues.

    The new goaltender, a Chiss, was spectacular. He was always moving in the box, but only small slight movements. He never aggressively challenged the ball handler like the starter had. But he always seemed ready though, and in the perfect place to block a shot or grab the ball as it sailed towards him. He didn't allow a single point for the remainder of the game.

    On offense the Mercs exploded, scoring point after point, even from players like Gozer, Kendal and Pasik, players that his dad said were destined for the Crusaders. The crowd noise, already at insanely high levels went through the non-existant roof as the Mercs pulled away not only increasing their lead, but turning the game into a blowout.

    When the final horn sounded the Mercs had won 31-13 and Jacen and his father went to find his mother who had still not returned from the team shop. Weaving through the crowded concourse they spotted her standing with her back against the wall, a small shopping bag emblazoned with the Merc's logo in her hand. "I knew you couldn't help yourself, what did you get?" Mother rolled her eyes as she looked at Jacen. "It's not for me, it's for him." she replied as she took opened the bag and withdrew an Mercs alternate jersey.

    [IMG]

    Jacen's eyes grew wide as he looked at it, the name on the back said Fortune, and he knew that was the team's starting Full Forward. "For me? Really?" he asked, as his mom nodded yes in reply. She slid it over his head, and while it was a little big on him he loved it already. This jersey would become his new prized possession. They made their way out to their speeder now, getting a few smiles and nods from other Mandalorian fans as they walked through the stadium and noticed his new jersey. Jacen was starting to feel really good about all of this, but as soon as they were in the confines of their own vehicle Jacen's dad turned to him and said "You're not really going to wear that are you? We're Rebels fans!"

    Jacen shook his head and crossed his arms in front of his chest. This was his jersey, and now this was his team too.

    "No Dad," he said with pride. "I'm a Mercs fan!"

    Tag: No one.

    OOC: Many thanks to @CPL_Macja who showed me that jersey some time ago. I knew I would have to use it someday and now I have. :p

    [IMG]
  5. Bardan_Jusik Mand'alor - Manager of the EUC, SWC and Spinoffs

    Manager
    Member Since:
    Dec 14, 2009
    star 10

    [IMG]

    Mando'ade Mercs player transactions.

    Mando'ade Mercs assign the following to Concordia Crusaders:

    • Midfielder: Gozer "The Destructor" (Devaronian Male) Contract year: 279
    • Half Forward: Ariva Kendal (Etti female) Contract year: 279
    • Corner Forward: Vash Passik (Kaleesh Male) Contract year: 275
    OOC: and with that my 275 roster is set and up to date in the library thread. Barring future injuries of course. [face_devil]

    [IMG]


  6. jcgoble3 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Nov 7, 2010
    star 4
    IC: Zay Antilles
    Location: Eusebus, Euceron
    Time: Three months before the start of the 276 season

    Zay stepped off the ship, and was immediately met by a customs officer. The young Jedi looked at him with a sideways glance, then attempted to slide past him. The customs officer would have none of that, instead grabbing Zay by the arm and slamming him up against the ship. Zay instinctively cushioned the blow with the Force, then slipped out of his grasp with a well-practiced move. The officer let out a surprised growl at this, reached down to the holster on his hip and produced a heavy blaster pistol—which Zay knew was definitely not standard issue for his position.

    Or rather, his alleged position, because Zay didn't believe the uniform for one second. As soon as he had seen the guy approaching, Zay had picked up on variations in his gait, appearance, and general demeanor that tipped him off that this guy was an imposter. The question was how to deal with him. Upon seeing the fake officer reach for his blaster, Zay's first instinct was to grab his lightsaber, but it was hidden. A group had taken root on Euceron that insisted the Jedi should stick to Republic matters and not interfere with Euceron business; this faction was tiny, but it was growing and had threatened violence, which had prompted Zay and his Master to go incognito as businessbeings to avoid any trouble. So the lightsaber was out of the question.

    Zay rolled to the side as the fake officer opened fire. Popping back up onto his feet with ease, Zay found the impostor momentarily unaware of where he was and took the opportunity to pounce. The young Jedi tackled his attacker from the side and brought the edge of his hand down on the back of the wrist of the attacker's weapon hand. The move forced his hand to open, and he dropped the blaster. Zay quickly snatched it away and stood up as real security arrived.

    "Kriffing committee. I told them one person couldn't take out a Jedi," muttered the attacker as three burly security officers cuffed him.

    One of the security officers looked up at Zay, who sighed. So much for slipping in without notice, he thought. Zay stayed silent, and the officer hauled the impostor away on a charge of attempted murder without saying anything. Zay knew that this officer would tell others, who would tell more beings, and word would spread quickly that a Jedi was on the planet. They had to get in, do what they needed to do, and get out before any more trouble occurred.

    "Well, Zay, everything taken care of out there?"

    Zay looked back at the hatch, where Palla was leaning against the edge of the doorway. "Why didn't you come out and help?"

    "Looked like you could handle it yourself. And if word has to get out that Jedi are on Euceron, it's better to mislead them as to the number. Any further attackers that approach us won't know that I'm also a Jedi, which gives us an advantage."

    "Come on, let's head for the smashball arena."

    "You mean what's left of it?"

    "If that's the way you want to put it. I prefer to think of it as 'some assembly required'."

    Palla snorted as she passed Zay and headed for the street.



    Location: BlasTech Arena, opposite side of town from Euceron Stadium
    Time: One hour later

    Palla and Zay walked down the sidewalk, chatting about the fall weather as they approached the arena and the police tape surrounding it. As they did, they noticed a uniformed EBI agent look up at them, duck under the tape, and hustle toward them.

    "Hello, I'm Captain Tav Riftser," he said quietly. "You are the Jedi team that we summoned, are you not?"

    "Yes, we are," said Palla. "May we take a look at the arena?"

    "You're welcome to do so, but there's really nothing left to see. We're actually performing final checks in preparation for taking down the police tape and allowing repairs to begin."

    Zay stared at the gaping hole in the side of the building. "Don't you mean demolition?"

    "The structural engineer deemed it safe, so we're hopeful that repairs can be effected. The arena is on the registry of historic places, after all."

    "So if there nothing left here, then where can we begin our investigation? You did say that you think Bassell could be behind this, didn't you?"

    "Yes, but it's just a suspicion at this point. We have zero evidence to support that, which is where we're hoping that you can help. Speaking of helping, all the evidence we've collected is at headquarters. I'll drive you there myself as soon as we finish up here."



    Location: EBI headquarters
    Time: 45 minutes later

    "So this is everything we have," said Captain Riftser, gesturing to the plethora of evidence spread across three large tables. "I'll let you go through them at your own pace and see what you can make of them."

    Palla and Zay nodded and got to work. They sifted through witness statements, security holos, and various items collected by crime scene investigators, including portions of the bomb, as the captain occasionally commented on a piece of evidence here and there.

    After two hours of fruitless searching, Zay was about ready to give up when he discovered a business card that carried simply a logo on one side and a handwritten scrawl on the other. He held it up in a gloved hand, and the captain spoke up. "I'll be honest, I have no clue what that means," he said.

    Palla looked up from what she was examining, and her eyes lit up in recognition almost immediately. "I know that logo. Remember that group that attacked us on Tavell?"

    Zay winced at the memory. "Of course. Why?" The captain, intrigued, listened closely.

    "Because that logo was on the uniforms worn by Bassell's attack force."

    "Bingo!" yelled Captain Riftser.

    "Indeed," said Palla. "You've got your connection."

    "But what does the other side of the card mean?"

    Palla took a closer look at the card. On the other side, someone had handwritten the words "KRIFF THE WEATHER". "Good question. Zay?"

    Zay closed his eyes for a moment. "Well a storm is a type of weather, and the Storm are now playing their home games in the dead of winter, when the weather could be a hindrance to attacks like this. They could be planning to attack a Euceron Storm game next."

    Palla considered her Padawan's analysis. "I agree," she said after a minute. "We need to warn the team."

    To be continued...
    Trieste likes this.
  7. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 8
    Part 2

    IC: Ava Killenger
    Beachhead Sea Resort

    Ava was woken in a rude fashion when she felt something hit her in the gut. She looked up from her pillow at Christine, who was standing above her. “Wake up, sleepyhead!” her roommate said. “It’s time for practice!”

    “Wha . . .?” Ava asked. She looked over at her chrono, and it was then that she realized that she had overslept. “Crap!” she said as she sprung out of bed.

    “First day. Not a good time to oversleep,” Christine commented as she messed with her hair a little bit to tame a few wandering strands. “Especially not when you’ve got a position battle to deal with.”

    “Don’t remind me,” Ava said as she quickly dressed into her workout gear. Not a good start for the first day indeed.




    IC: Gark S’rily

    As practice began, Gark looked over the roster one final time before he would have his defensive players work in the first unit practice. He could see quite a few veterans that had their spots on the team clinched; Jerek, Myles, Ortho, Zummarooroo (“Zoom”), Doon’sun, Evis, and Abbey. But the other spots were up for grabs at this point. That meant that Reena, Tank, Reid, Rhyric and Christine were fighting for spots on the roster, and in at least one case for a starting spot. Abbey would likely be the starter at Full Back, but Doon’sun would also see a lot of time at the position, and given Abbey’s struggles the last two seasons, Gark knew that he would like to platoon them and ride the hot hand whenever possible. Jerek had his corner spot sewn up, but who would start across from him? Reid had been OK last season, but not spectacular. Christine looked good as a first-round pick, but it wouldn’t hurt to have her coming in off the bench to start with. Rhyric, although he hadn’t played in the Elite League the past two seasons, was there to provide depth and a veteran presence. However, if the younger corners didn’t shape it up, he might be slotted as the other starter based on experience alone. Myles, Ortho, and Zoom were the three starting halfs, with Reena, Tank, and Evis solidly pushed in behind them. However, Gark wanted to keep his eyes open in case a Half Back with Thyferra stood out in camp. Leah Nergbolt, the 274 second-round pick, had her chance to make the Senator roster here, and Jamee Meels, the 275 third-round pick, also had a chance, although it was slim.

    When the units split off for separate practices, Gark looked at his twelve players. Lots of humans, he noted. Shayt had voiced her concern about five of her six players being human, and how that could hurt a multi-variate defensive scheme. Gark had taken note of that concern, but knew that this was the best unit he could field right now. If a non-human player came along that could crack the roster, fine, but at the moment these players were going to be in camp. Besides, since when did human/non-human make a roster? The Senators had never worried about such things; that was the territory for Ylesia or Bakura to make a big deal about, not Coruscant.

    As the unit practice began, Gark wanted to take a closer look at his three corner backs. Rhyric started off with a hit to the dummy down low, which would have sent the forward toppling over him if it wasn’t on a sled. Reid went down low as well, which was just fine. Taking out the legs was a solid play. Christine, however, went for a full-body shot to the padded sled body, and Gark noted how the rookie had taken it to the dummy with a solid hit. It might not have popped the ball loose, had this been a real forward, but it would have sent a message. Sometimes the players you never thought were hard-hitters actually turned out to be.

    During the day, he showed his players his defensive schemes. He wanted to toss out the zone look that the 273 team had used so effectively, with Zoom as a wing defender some of the time along with some regular coverages. This would require a speedster to lock the top of the box, but with Saram Golyxi no longer with the team, Gark wasn’t sure who he could use there. Tank was right out with his size, and Evis was not a range player, so Reena was tabbed as a possible center half stopper to confront any player coming over the midline out of the gate. Gark then ran some drills, trying to get everyone in the right position. Jerek did what he needed to in the box, as did Rhyric, but the younger players struggled. Gark took note of this in his mind.

    When it came time for the scrimmage to work on both units, Gark set up his defense for the flag Limmie practice. The idea here was to see where players would line up and run their plays, but without the hits. Reena stood out front in her new position as Allie Orchetrada’s variation of Andrew Mundle’s “Four Around” offensive scheme started up, with the entire Front 6 and Demetra Silkins, who was needed for this offense, came charging up the field. Reena was able to push Cord McKerty out of the play via a “hipcheck” by taking his flag, which amused Gark because he knew that Reena would be in Cord’s ear all night about that play. Then the rest of his defense was tested. Around went the ball in Senator style, Dauza Chary to Riff Persnor. The Cathar passed it down low to Max Qorbus, who was posting up Rhyric. The human was no match for the taller Nautolan forward, and Max pushed him around. A point was easily scored, and the play was reset. Allie was playing it simple here, but that was because the offense was still in place for the most part. Gark had to throw in more exotic defenses because he wanted to see what this unit could hang its hat on formation-wise. They needed an identity, but what could they use?

    In came the other two corners, and the play began once again. In came the seven forwards, and the defenders were there to meet them. Chary to Persnor to Qorbus once again, this time on Reid. Again Max had the height advantage, so he scored easily when Reid took a wrong step. Gark frowned; this right here was exactly why he had brought in the former Helmsman winner, but what did it mean for his defense? They were going to face tall forwards in this league, so they needed to be ready. Now it was Christine’s turn to give it a shot on Qorbus. In came the play, and Qorbus backed down. But Gamble did not let up. She stayed on the Nautolan’s hip the whole way, blanketing him. Qorbus easily passed the ball out of the coverage to Riff, who scored a point on Ortho by beating him to the spot. But Gark didn’t care about that. Gamble had held her ground there on a taller opponent. Not a bad first rep.

    By the time practice was over, Gark had penciled in Gamble as the starter for tomorrow. Jerek was going to get a day of light work so that he didn’t get overextended; besides, there was still plenty of camp to go, and he would get his reps in. Gark wanted to see the other three and how they did. But that was for another day. Now he had the night to relax and try to clear his mind of the stress. The stadium would be built someday, and then the Senators would have a home. For now, all he could do was think about it.




    IC: Ava Killenger

    “I need a drink,” Ava said as she collapsed on her bed back in the hotel room.

    “Rough day?” Christine asked as she did pretty much the same.

    “That was a lot to process,” Ava explained. “Whole new offense, lots of reps. I barely did anything right today. Are they all going to be this rough?”

    “Probably,” was Christine’s reply. Both of them sat on their beds, staring at the ceiling of the room and its odd decoration style. Someone obviously had gone to a lot of work to detail it like that, but neither player cared that much for art, at least of this style. What a waste of credits.

    “I’m last on the depth chart right now,” Ava bemoaned. “And from the sound of it some of those lower-level players did pretty well in their first day.”

    “You’ll make it,” Christine assured her roommate. “You’ll make it.”

    “How’d you do?” Ava asked.

    “Dunno,” was the reply. “I got a few reps in today, but we all did, really. No idea on who starts tomorrow and who gets a lighter load. I certainly hope I did everything I could.”

    “Yeah, me too,” Ava replied. Camp was going to be a long one.


    TAG: No One, as usual
  8. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    GM Post

    What We Learned: Preseason

    Here’s one thing we learned: don’t trust the interns to do work during playoffs. Seriously everybody, I know that all you're getting is college credit, but we expect you to spend every waking moment dedicating yourself to the well-oiled machine that is this column.

    However, since we fired of all those interns…what? They graduated? That’s less fun. Anyways, we got new interns who asked silly questions like, “How can we learn anything from a season that hasn’t started?” Therefore, we told them to think up what we think we’re going to learn this season. That’ll teach these interns to get uppity with us.

    Agamar Packers: Is whatever Tim Dodd is doing on Agamar going to work? Let’s be honest—no one has forged such an explicit bond between a limmie team between the community and local universities as he has done thus far with his use of ASF officers and now the Academicals staff. What we’re seeing at Packers HQ could change limmie forever…if the Packers can start winning.

    Bakura Miners: The last time Quinn Cundertol saw the Miners miss the playoffs he stood pat with his roster and they won the Cup. Do you know who’s left from that 271 championship team? Alana Glencross, Aron Rodders, and Nancheka Stormborn. That’s it. The Miners have turned over four fifths of their roster since then—including a third of the team being rookies this year. The big question is simple: do the Miners have enough veteran leadership to win with a very young and unproven team?

    Chandrila Patriots: Is Reina Kether one of the greatest ever? That’s what this comes down to. Becoming only the third coach to lead her team to back-to-back Galactic Cup Finals would make her a legend.

    Corellia Rebels: Will anyone care that the Rebels are playing in the Elite League again? No, seriously, does anybody care? It took one of the interns telling us for anyone in the office to know they’re still in the league.

    Coruscant Senators: So the rebuild wasn’t as painful as advertised…unless losing twice to your historic rival as they romped their way to tie you with eight Galactic Cups counts as painful. The real question for the Senators is whether they’ve built a foundation to do some of their traditional S’rily magic.

    Euceron Storm: Can the Euceron Storm make it the Big Five? The time was that there was a Big Five: Bakura, Chandrila, Coruscant, Nar Shaddaa, and—believe it or not—the Mon Calamari Mariners. That ended with the dawn of the Kayl’hen Era. None of the new market teams has had the resilience of the Storm and many have argued that all Euceron needed was some postseason success to be the new Big Five. Now they’ve had it, but one Galactic Cup Final does not make a team a force. The Storm have to do it again to join the big names.

    Hapes Consortium Buccaneers: The C-Bucs were early season favorites to win the Cup. Then they sputtered late in the season and found themselves in fifth place in the Solo Conference. Can Moira Mallory’s team put in a full season effort this time around?

    Mando’ade Mercs: Have the Mercs weathered the Rosterpocalypse? The Mercs have been utterly decimated with retirements and the founding generation that took them to the Final. Not to mention this question: is Beskaryc Taab going to be able to hold this team together while fighting a war on the other side of the galaxy? And are there going to be tens of thousands of empty seats in Mesh’la Vhetin that are a grim reminder of the cost of war?

    Nar Shaddaa Smugglers: Can Tover Micjaa put this team over the hump? He nearly won a Grames in 274 and rightly so, but he fell short of a shot at a tenth title. Micjaa is one of the greatest coaches ever and his all-star coaching team improbably came together (we’re looking at you Konrad) to create something special. But does Tover have enough in the tank to go the extra distance?

    Ralltiir Starkillers: Will losing the Salbukk mean that Galaxy Defender Unanimous has even more to prove now? We can’t knock him for having an amazing, MVP-worthy season last season, but the fact that he lost means that we’ve got to wonder if now he’s got a galaxy-sized chip on his shoulder at not getting his due. Will there be a Unanimous decision to knock out the league’s offenses again? (Editor’s note: we apologize for this terrible pun by one of the interns.)

    Rydonni Prime Monarchs: We really, really wanted to make this one about our buddy Setarcos (love you man) and honestly we are curious to know if this “Badger” is the salvation of the Monarchs. However, that’s not the most interesting question by far for Rydonni Prime. It’s clearly Vesper Lynd, who was an MVP nominee on a last place team. Let’s repeat that: an MVP nominee on a last place team. She is clearly a special talent and the clear-cut choice for captain. Is Vesper Lynd the one to take the Monarchs to the promised land? It’s the only question worth asking about Rydonni Prime.

    Ylesia Lightning: Will the Lightning bring on their first human player? They’ve got an assistant GM who’s human so it’s not farfetched. Things got a little ugly in Peace City last season, but after backing their way into the playoffs last season by way of the gigantic tiebreak the Lightning brass may want to do something to shake things up. A human on the roster would certainly do that.

    TAG: @Bardan_Jusik @CPL_Macja @jcgoble3 @Jedi Gunny @Rebecca_Daniels @Runjedirun @Tim Battershell @Vehn
    Last edited by Trieste, Oct 15, 2013
    Vehn, Jedi Gunny, Runjedirun and 3 others like this.
  9. jcgoble3 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Nov 7, 2010
    star 4
    Sub-GM Post/IC: Marius Turnell
    Two months before the start of the 275 Elite League season

    "Greetings," said Marius to the assembled reporters. "With two seasons of Limmie Futures League action in the books, we've seen a lot of ups and downs. We've seen the league contract from ten teams to eight, a number that it will remain at for the upcoming season, and we have seen a Futures Cup Final that ended in overtime. As we prepare for the third season, it is time to take a look at some of our unique rules and see if there is a way to improve them.

    "Starting with that process will be a major tweak to the overtime rules. In two seasons of play, we have seen three overtime games, but two of those games have ended in the least exciting way possible, with one team ahead by one or two points when time expired, and while the other ended in a sudden death goal, the winning team was already ahead by two points, taking much of the excitement out of the play. In reviewing holos of these overtime periods, the one constant we have noticed is passive play, where a team grabs one point early and then throws out a prevent defense instead of trying to end the game quickly. While this strategy has not always been completely successful, as seen in the Marksmen–Rangers game this past season where six points were scored between the two teams in overtime, it worked to extreme success in the Futures Cup Final, which saw only one overtime point from both teams combined. Adding to the concern here is a large number of complaints from fans regarding the Final and what they commonly perceived as a boring overtime period.

    "With that said, we have spent several hours discussing what direction to go with overtime rules, and I believe we have settled on a new rule package that will encourage aggressive play and simultaneously guarantee a thrilling ending to every overtime game. To accomplish this, we are eliminating the single point over the bar from overtime periods, meaning that only full goals will count during overtime. This change means that it will no longer be possible to win by accumulating a three-point lead or by scoring one point and running out the clock; the only way to end an overtime game will be via a full goal or a penalty shot shootout, creating excitement for the fans and providing players with an incentive to attack the goal early and often.

    "Another area where we considered changes was in the playoffs, as a proposal was made to eliminate the consolation bracket. The arguments for that were that it cheapens the real playoffs and also serves to extend the misery of a losing season. After careful consideration, we have decided not to make any changes on that front for this season; however, we will invite comments from Futures Leagues teams and their Elite League counterparts throughout this season on the effectiveness and desirability of ensuring two playoff games for every player.

    "With no changes in the roster of the Elite League, no changes in existing affiliation agreements, and no new development affiliates, the roster of the Futures League will remain unchanged as well for 275. The general consensus is that the bye weeks we added last season were beneficial, and so the format of the schedule, which will be revealed in a minute, will remain the same. Before I reveal the schedule, are there any questions?"

    "Commissioner, from which team did the proposal to eliminate the consolation bracket come?"

    "The proposal was made internally by a member of the Rules Committee. It did not come from any team. Any further questions?... Alright, then, the schedule is being transmitted to your datapads right now. Thank you and have a nice day."



    Limmie Futures League 275 Schedule
    Week 1
    Concordia Crusaders at Tatooine Sandskimmers
    Druckenwell Marksmen at Byblos Red Wings
    Kashyyyk Rangers at Commenor Gundarks
    Kamino Waves at Thyferra Force

    Week 2
    Byblos Red Wings at Kamino Waves
    Tatooine Sandskimmers at Commenor Gundarks
    Thyferra Force at Concordia Crusaders
    Kashyyyk Rangers at Druckenwell Marksmen

    Week 3
    Druckenwell Marksmen at Thyferra Force
    Byblos Red Wings at Concordia Crusaders
    Kamino Waves at Kashyyyk Rangers
    Bye: Commenor Gundarks and Tatooine Sandskimmers

    Week 4
    Tatooine Sandskimmers at Druckenwell Marksmen
    Byblos Red Wings at Thyferra Force
    Commenor Gundarks at Concordia Crusaders
    Bye: Kamino Waves and Kashyyyk Rangers

    Week 5
    Commenor Gundarks at Kamino Waves
    Tatooine Sandskimmers at Byblos Red Wings
    Thyferra Force at Kashyyyk Rangers
    Bye: Concordia Crusaders and Druckenwell Marksmen

    Week 6
    Kashyyyk Rangers at Tatooine Sandskimmers
    Kamino Waves at Concordia Crusaders
    Druckenwell Marksmen at Commenor Gundarks
    Bye: Byblos Red Wings and Thyferra Force

    Week 7
    Tatooine Sandskimmers at Kamino Waves
    Concordia Crusaders at Druckenwell Marksmen
    Commenor Gundarks at Thyferra Force
    Kashyyyk Rangers at Byblos Red Wings

    Week 8
    Druckenwell Marksmen at Kamino Waves
    Byblos Red Wings at Commenor Gundarks
    Concordia Crusaders at Kashyyyk Rangers
    Thyferra Force at Tatooine Sandskimmers



    Sub-GM Note: Two things of note.

    First, regarding the game mechanics of the new overtime procedures, the current system of rolling a single number from 1 to 100 for each thirty seconds will be dropped since it is no longer necessary to track the order in which points are scored. I have not yet figured out a new system, but it will likely consist of generating a single random number for the entire overtime period, which will translate to either a goal for one team or the other or no score.

    Second, regarding the reconsideration of the consolation bracket, I am indeed inviting comments from everyone who plays in this game, whether you have an LFL team or not. Comments do not need to be submitted now; I will accept them by PM through the end of the 276 Elite League Draft, so you can wait to see how this season's playoffs play out before speaking up if you choose to. The OOC reason I am doing this is because I'm not entirely certain that the consolation bracket, which was intended IC to give these young players valuable playoff experience, was a good idea to begin with. Since I never consulted with you guys to begin with, I'm doing it now.

    TAG: @Bardan_Jusik @Runjedirun @Vehn @Jedi Gunny @Rebecca_Daniels @CPL_Macja (and @Trieste and @Tim Battershell if they wish to comment on the consolation bracket)
  10. Runjedirun Chosen One

    Member Since:
    Sep 3, 2012
    star 6
    IC: Fenton

    Fenton nervously looked at his chrono as the tube approached the stop for Bankers Mansion Stadium. As soon as the doors opened Fenton stepped out and began to jog towards the stadium. He could still get to work on time he just had to hustle a bit. Less than a minute into his jog Fenton began to get out of breath. Moments later he wasn’t just out of breath he was gasping for air. When he started to feel dizzy, he had to stop and walk. The stadium didn’t look any closer than it had when he first got off the tube. The server at the café was right; getting in shape would be an improvement.

    He saw his supervisor standing with his arms crossed staring him down as he approached the nacho concession stand. “You’re a slow learner.” He said shaking his head. “The scrub brushes and pans can be found in the same place as last time.”

    Fenton was still breathing heavily from his attempt to be on time. He nodded his head and made his way behind the counter. Not long after he had begun to prepare his work station Fenton saw the most beautiful sight he had seen in his life. The Starkillers dance squad made their way out of a back entrance conveniently located right next to the stand, and walked past him as they headed towards the field. A few of the girls got so close to Fenton that the strings of their pom pom’s brushed up against his arm. Several of them waved at his supervisor, who waved back enthusiastically. He wondered if some day they would wave at him. Not unless he lost some weight, he decided.

    As soon as the fans were allowed to enter the stadium a line formed at the nacho stand. Nearly every person Fenton served was in a good mood. The excitement of the upcoming season was abundant. He couldn’t see the field but there were several holovisions set up around the concession area and the announcers were broadcasted throughout the stadium so Fenton knew what was going on at all times.

    The starters took the field at first. But several of them only played for the first five minutes. Galaxy Defender was among those in the first wave to come out, as was Jul who the Starkillers no doubt wanted to keep uninjured going into the regular season. Marmu and newcomer Flarn remained in the game for the entire first half. The Starkillers scored 18 points. Kuat was not going down without a fight; they took full advantage of the Ralltiir’s 2nd string defenders and put 16 points on the board.

    During half time Fenton emptied three barrels of nacho cheese. The beings in his line mostly resembled him. They were overweight and content to be watching the game while indulging in snack foods. He glanced at the holovision in front of the stand that was airing first half highlights. He admired Ty Allin’s ability to jump several feet into the air and intercept a pass and the speed with which Leann Lightcin ran up the field to score. Fenton didn’t dare leap in the air for fear he would injure a knee or ankle upon landing and earlier today he had proved to himself he couldn’t jog much less run. As he ladled the cheese onto nachos for hungry fans Fenton vowed to change those things.

    As the second half unfolded Kuat took advantage of the Starkillers unknowns. Fenton was pleased with what he had seen in the first half of the game and was not worried about the final score. He was sure the Starkillers were destined for another play-off run. With a little luck they may even win a play off game this year. That wasn’t the only thing Fenton had to look forward to though. He was going to make changes in his own life as well, changes for the better. Fenton couldn’t wait to get started.

    TAG: None
    Vehn, jcgoble3, Trieste and 1 other person like this.
  11. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 8
    IC: Ava Killenger
    Beachhead Sea Resort

    Ava took a bite out of a roll on her plate. This was it, the final night of training camp proper. All of the blood, the sweat, the tears, it all came down to this night. Everything that had been put on the line was now up in the air. Now was her chance to see if she made the team or not. It had been a rough month, as she was put through her paces time and again to the point where the sweat rolled down her face in droves. It was not a comforting feeling, but if she made the team, it would have been well worth it. If she didn’t make the team . . . it was going to be a long next few days.

    Dinner had been served at the usual time in the “mess hall”, as the players coined it. And it was, with about sixty players, plus at least a dozen coaches, with some staff and organizational leaders, all sitting down here to eat at the same time. Then Pamila Korthe gave her spiel about the next few days being open before letting the rosters be posted. Everyone who was new to the organization or who had found themselves locked in a position battle rushed out of the hall to see who had made the team, the veterans who knew their roster spots were locked up not even flinching as they continued to eat. Ava and Christine joined the throng, mostly Thyferra players wanting to know if they made the big club. Christine wanted to know if she was going to start. Ava was just happy to be here at this point.

    Finally Ganlin Costa moved away from the roster, and the two roommates moved in. Christine checked the roster, and then her face lit up. “I did it! I’m starting!” she exclaimed. Apparently projected starting lineups were listed on there, Ava thought as she looked at the list.

    “Nice,” she said. She scanned to the bottom of the roster. She hit the last three names, and hadn’t seen hers yet. Did she make the team, or was she relegated to Thyferra? Tank Bratter. Malida Worody. Ava Killenger. She had done it. She had made the team out of camp. This was cause for celebration.

    That night, the two roommates celebrated their achievement over a drink at the bar. They chatted it up with their newfound friends, and generally had a good time about it. When Ava’s head hit the pillow that night, she didn’t have a feeling of defeat in her mind. No, she felt accomplished. Now it was back to Coruscant, back to Forrest Heights for a little while, back to her old life for a few more days before she truly was a pro Limmie player. And there was a party being thrown by an old friend. She was looking forward to that.




    IC: Gark S’rily

    Gark stared out at the expanse of ocean in front of him, trying to let the sea breeze take his mind away to another realm entirely. He had finished up training camp, and was still feeling stressed by those duties as well as everything else. Had he made the right decisions personnel-wise? Was he cut out for this job after all?

    “Can’t focus?” came a familiar voice. Gark turned around to see Pam Korthe come up behind him.

    “Nah,” Gark replied. “It’s hard to really focus on anything when you’re on such a nice planet. But also when you need to think about things going back on Coruscant, like the company. Especially the stadium construction.”

    “I think camp went well this year,” Pam commented as she joined Gark at the balcony railing, resting her arms on the guard rail. “We had a lot of good young players come in and work their asses off. Our veterans also looked invigorated, or at least as much as Jerek can be since his spot was assured.”

    “I’ll deal with Jerek, don’t worry,” Gark said. “He’ll work out there. He always does.”

    “So, I see that you petitioned me to put Gamble in the starting lineup,” Pam said.

    “Yes. I think she deserves a chance to start across from Jerek. She has a lot to learn, yes, but she has more upside than Reid does, and more skill than Rhyric at this point in his career. It was a clear choice for me.”

    “I’m just not sure about starting another rookie corner this season. Last year didn’t go so well,” Pam commented.

    “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen,” Gark replied. “I think Gamble will do just fine for herself. If not, we get a capable backup with some starting experience off the bench, and have Reid start instead.”

    “We’ll see, won’t we?” Pam said. “Anyways, I’m bushed. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Then she left Gark alone once again to stare at the sea. It was something he had grown accustomed to during the past month, the crescendo of the waves creating a constant source of noise in the background. It was a time like this where he got sick of the ocean and the endless expanse of blue sand; this trip wasn’t about vacation. It was about work. But he wanted vacation. Maybe, someday, this could be a resort trip for everyone, one where they didn’t have to worry about training camp. Maybe it could just be a team bonding trip. He stared out at the sea until the sun was close to setting, bringing darkness to the picturesque view.

    When he finally returned to his hotel room, he found Me’lin and Galin watching some program on the HoloNet. Not wanting to bother them, he stayed away from the screen and punched up some data on his datapad. Then his comlink rang, and he stepped outside to pick it up. “Gark here,” he said.

    “Hey boss,” came the familiar voice of Dyklar, the Rodian head groundskeeper for the now-departed Andromeda Stadium. “Construction’s going well. We’ve got the foundations in already, and we’re starting to build up from the ground.”

    This was the best news Gark could have hoped for. The new Senator Stadium, whatever it would be called in the end, was now going up at the site of Andromeda. “How long do you think it will take to build?” the Bothan asked.

    “Give it about a year or so,” Dyklar said. “About ten months to build, and a few months in there for safety checks and to give the workers some off days or to use as buffers in case we fall behind. I wouldn’t suggest scheduling anything immediately, though. I want to see how this place shapes up before giving any definite estimations.”

    “I understand,” Gark said. “That’s great news.”

    “It sure is, Boss. I’ll talk to you when you get back to Coruscant.” Then the feed was cut. Gark finally breathed a sigh of relief. The stadium would be in place for 276. That was all he could have hoped for. Now he had to turn his attention to the 275 campaign and how that would play out. He didn’t know how he would do in his return to the sidelines, but one thing was clear.

    It certainly was going to be an interesting season.

    TAG: No One



    This wraps up training camp.
    jcgoble3 and Trieste like this.
  12. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    IC: Falene Trieste
    Home locker room, Bakura Gardens, Salis D’aar

    Falene in home dark blue and gold with knee high yellow socks sat in front of her locker. Her hands were in front of her face, pressed together as if she was praying. Falene exhaled and blew her breath through and around her hands.

    Opening day.

    How far we’ve come this offseason…



    Camp Edel, Bakura
    Several months ago

    “If you don’t come home alive, I’m going to kill you,” Siona Lynd told her son as she hugged him.

    Private Cillian Lynd couldn’t help but smile at the terrible joke. Dressed in his dark blue Bakuran Marine fatigues, he looked like the all-Bakuran boy, going off to fight the Ssi-Ruuk and do his duty. That was why he had joined up—to make a difference. His parents hadn’t been pleased, but he was 20 years old and the decision was his, as Kerry Trieste had reminded her sister.

    Everyone else had said their goodbyes. In fact, Falene was tactfully trying to give her aunt, uncle, and cousins a private moment with Cillian. Ginny was a wreck and was sobbing all over the place. Vesper had come from Rydonni Prime for the event and currently had an arm around her younger sister’s shoulders to silently comfort her.

    Falene hadn’t known what to say when she’d hugged Cillian. It was one thing for Anton to go. That had been hard enough, but her cousin? Someone she’d known her entire life? Going to war to defend Bakura? There were no words for that, none that Falene knew anyways. However, Cillian hadn’t had any problem finding the right words.

    “Win some games for us on the front,” Cillian said, “Gotta keep our morale up when we’re not out there killing lizards.”

    Falene smiled. “Okay. Will do,” she said with more mirth than she felt.

    When the time finally came for Cillian to get on board the shuttle that would take him and his comrades in arms up to the BakurStar capital ship that would take them into enemy territory, Falene watched her cousin start to blend into the crowd, becoming just one more being in a uniform.

    Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around, Falene thought, Just go. The truth was that she didn’t know if she could handle it if he did turn around for that one last look. If he left right now, she could handle it. But if he looked…

    Cillian turned around just before getting on the shuttle and gave one final wave with a smile, a smile of supreme confidence of being 20 years old and going off to do what he thought was right.

    Falene heard Siona starting to cry, but she was waving back, as if she wasn’t crying in the slightest. Falene imagined her aunt was hoping that her son couldn’t see the tears. The Noble House of Trieste stood there on the tarmac and watched the shuttles depart and recede into the blue sky, headed for a ship they could not see. The smaller the shuttle got, the heavier Falene’s heart became.



    Miners training facility, Hi’lo, Bakura
    One week later

    “Everybody knows we’ve got some new faces in the room,” Gaeriel said to her team, “All the rooks stand up and introduce yourself—front three moving down the field. Niskat, you’re up first.”

    “But I’m not a rook!” Deenever protested, “I was here last year! I already did this.”

    “You play a regular season game for this team last year?” Valerii asked.

    “No,” Niskat glumly admitted and she stood with a sigh, “I’m Niskat Deenever. Center half forward. I have a clinical addiction to cheese puffs.” She sat down and looked at Valerii as if to say, “Good enough?” The head coach didn’t say anything further so they moved on.

    “Hi, I’m Jolla,” the first round midfielder pick said as she stood up, a little bashfully, “And yes, it’s pronounced Hoya. I’m from Tatooine, but my mom dunked me in sunscreen before she let me outside, so that’s why I look more like I’m from Kamino. Ummm…I’m really excited to be here.” She sat down. “Oh!” She stood up again. “If my hair looks crazy, it’s because it doesn’t understand why it’s not 110 degrees with negative 20% humidity right now. I’m working on it.” Jolla sat down again.

    “Uhhhh…hi. I’m Eponette, but nobody calls me that. Everyone calls me Ponie,” the new half back said, “Don’t know what else to say than that, other than I still can’t believe I’m here.” She sat down.

    “Neffroq Vubbins,” the Mon Calamari corner back said, “I was here last year but I had a bum knee. That’s fully healed and I got some playing time with the Mariners on the other end of the galaxy. Ready to bring it.”

    “Hi! I’m Lizbit Comstock!” the new goalkeeper said brightly, “I’m from Cloud City and I’m so excited to be here. In fact, this is the first place I’ve ever lived other than Cloud City. This is wonderful!”

    “Wait, it is?” Ponie asked, “You’ve never lived anywhere else?”

    “No, but I’ve always wanted to! I know Cloud City sounds great, but a big floating city? Not as cool as you’d think,” Lizbit said.

    “You're telling me,” Niskat said, “Though I liked that place, Blue Ribbon Bakery. They had great ribs—though it made no sense why a bakery would serve ribs…”

    “You’ve been to Cloud City?” Lizbit said, suddenly excited.

    Niskat stared at Lizbit. “You do know I played all of last season for the Sky Captains, right? Didn’t you see me on the Holonet?”

    “Well…the Sky Captains were kind of terrible last season,” Lizbit said apologetically.

    Deenever buried her head in her hands. “How many times are people going to remind me about how bad we were last season?” she muttered to herself.

    “Hey, they’ll all forget when we win the Galactic Cup,” Falene whispered to Niskat.

    “Okay, now that all the rooks are introduced, we’re going to break up for position meetings. You know the drills. Forwards, midfielders, you’re with me. Defense and goalkeepers, you’re with Cuth,” Valerii said.



    [IMG]
    (Visual approximation of Cuth Hulu during this conversation. Operative word being approximation. However, if you haven't figured out the reference based on his name and species...well now you stand a better chance. This will also make the next scene slightly easier to understand. ;))

    Falene looked up at the defensive coordinator in shock. “I’m sorry, but am I stupid? Because I do not understand this at all.” In her lap was a datapad with the new defensive playbook.

    “Oh so you mean I wasn’t the only one?” Max Grap said, “This thing is…is…”

    “Insane,” Nelly Wizmark said, holding her datapad up, “This is pure insanity.”

    “It’s a very complicated defensive scheme,” Cuth admitted, “but clearly this team needs a radical change based on its performance the last two years.”

    “We can’t learn this!” Ponie protested, “I don’t even understand these diagrams, let alone how they’re supposed to work!”

    “So imagine what an opposing offense is going to think as they try to figure this out,” Hulu said calmly.

    “Look, I know the whole 'we have to believe we’re the best' motivational stuff, but all due respect, five of our six defenders are in their first or second year of playing,” Nelly said, “And even I can’t wrap my mind around this. This is madness.”

    “It might be madness,” the Khil said leaning in, “but it can work. If we do it right, if we nail this defense, we will strike fear into the hearts of every team in the Elite League. They won’t know what’s happening.”

    “I’m not sure we will either,” Falene mumbled under her breath.



    News of the war came in fits and spurts. Part of the problem was that the fighting was taking place in the Unknown Regions, on worlds that were on no maps. Communications lines were far from reliable and sometimes there would be days without any updates at all.

    The most reliable communication source was the Defense Ministry’s link to the Defense Fleet command at the front. The only thing more reliable than the link was that every communication came straight from the theatre commander, General Borin Letch. Falene knew Letch casually. He had been one of the pardoned commanders of the insurgent Maple Flag Republic army and as a show of goodwill Kerry Trieste had allowed Letch to rejoin the Marines. However, Kerry had never trusted him and had never put Letch in a position where he could do too much damage. He was sometimes invited to Truce Day games to join General Shi, the Maple field commander who Kerry Trieste and whom the whole Noble House did respect very much (though at the end of the Civil War Shi had insisted on retiring, making any prospect of service to the Defense Fleet impossible). Letch was the picture of a rural Bakuran, back-slapping, colloquial, and certainly a man who enjoyed a drink or three. He had seemed harmless enough to Falene and she’d once hazarded that opinion in casual conversation at a Noble House dinner.

    “I would sooner resign my commission than follow Borin Letch,” Fiona Westenra had said decisively and without hesitation, “He has never learned how to lead troops and believes that he is the Maker come to the battlefield. If that was true, Abigail Dualla wouldn’t have routed him three times in taking the southern pole at the outset of the war.” Falene imagined that Admiral Westenra had made this opinion known to Prime Minister Trieste after the pardon and that explained why General Letch received relatively insignificant commands.”

    However, when the Unionists took Marian Square back in 268 after Kerry’s departure for Coruscant, Borin Letch’s career took off again. He became a darling of the new Prime Minister and when he pushed for his war resolution against the Ssi-Ruuk and got it, Letch was named commander of all Bakuran forces in the theatre.

    Though Falene didn’t hear it herself, the family gossip was that Fiona was livid. “Aunt Fiona was beside herself with absolute rage,” Ginny reported in the most scandalous tone possible, “She said that Letch was incompetent and it was insulting he should be given field command when she was stuck at the Academy. I heard she’s been taking shooting practice three times a day with his portrait as a target. In fact, she’s surprised the Mandalorians haven’t killed him themselves.”

    That last statement Falene understood. Letch was the face of the war effort. Every update that came through to the Bakuran public was Letch updating them on the status of things. After the third one, Falene was getting tired of him and the public was as well. For whatever reason the Ministry of Defense was allowing Letch this unfiltered access to the Bakuran media despite the fact that it got old quick.

    The truth was that Falene couldn’t help but listen to him. Not with Cillian and Anton out there fighting. Every update about the war wasn’t just a current event. It was personal. For all she knew the events that Letch was describing as “great victories” or “minor setbacks” had resulted in the death of someone she cared about. Every time she heard of any Marine dying she worried.

    That meant Falene worried a lot. Though Letch was continually talking about the progress that the Marines were making in their joint efforts with the vastly larger Mandalorian fighting force, the truth was that the numbers that were being released by the Ministry of Defense were not good. The Marines were taking heavy losses as they stormed worlds as part of the coordinated war plan. They were winning, but at a high cost. Well, it seemed like a high cost to Falene. She didn’t know anything about war, but she couldn’t think that what she was hearing could possibly be good.

    But the call hadn’t come yet. The dreaded call. The one where someone told her Cillian was dead. Or that Anton was dead. So she could be thankful for that…but she knew too many of those calls had been made to other families. Even though it wasn’t her cousin or her friend who would come home in a coffin draped in a dark blue flag with a circle of 32 stars, someone would be there waiting for it and for that being Falene’s heart sank.

    The war had also given rise to a curious circumstance. The Agamarians through Tim Dodd, owner of the Packers, had sent a contingent of capital ships to defend Bakura. He had arranged everything through the Noble House. Though the initial outreach had been made to the Chancellor, she had discreetly had her sister Siona handle things on the Bakuran side for the Agamarians. The former Minister of State might have had skin in this game with a son at the front, to borrow a proverbial expression, but liaising with the Defense Fleet gave her something to do that allowed her to keep her mind off of Cillian’s deployment. The Agamarians had expressed an interest in working with Siona’s twin sister to gain access to her wealth of naval knowledge. Considering the Agamarians weren’t asking to be compensated for the use of their ships in defense of Bakura (and Siona pointed out their shore leave would provide some stimulus to the Bakuran economy), it was an easy sell to the Defense Fleet. Fiona was now going into orbit periodically to work with the Agamarians and make sure that they were patched into the Defense Fleet's procedures and communications, as well as advise on tactics.

    The Prime Minister welcomed the Agamarians with open arms and much pomp. After all, it was another world who was rallying to the cause, thus buttressing his position that the war was needed and necessary. “Mom scoffed when she heard that,” Ginny reported, “Just because the Agamarians are willing to lend a hand to defend Bakura doesn’t mean that they support poking a nest of voxyn. Or so she said anyways.”

    Declan’s squeeze, Ayn—or rather Supervisor Ayn Dormingale—had sensed an opportunity though she was keeping a somewhat low profile at the start of her term, she had jumped on the opportunity to welcome the shore leave parties to Cape Suzette and make sure they were appropriately billeted and had plenty of guidance for enjoying the City by the Bay. From what Declan was telling Falene, it seemed that Ayn was staying silent on the war itself. Whenever she was asked about it, she said that it was a federal matter and that her concern was solely on the governance of Watercrest. Falene might have lacked her mother’s political instincts, but she’d been around politics her entire life—enough to know a little something. From what Falene could see, Ayn was as smart as people gave her credit for. She’d said her piece, but she wasn’t going to go further than that. There was no reason to risk stirring pro-war sentiment if she didn’t have to.

    No wonder Ayn fit in with the Noble House so well.



    Hi’lo, Bakura

    “Can I ask you something?”

    “Yeah, sure,” Niskat said.

    She and Falene were sitting on one of the beaches near to the Miners’ training facility. They had some down time and the pair had decided to enjoy the late afternoon.

    “Why are we best friends?” Falene asked.

    “Because we are,” Niskat said.

    “No, really. Why? Why do you like hanging out around me?” Falene pressed, “I wasn’t very nice to you when we first met.”

    “You’re like a chocolate egg. Hard on the outside, delicious inside,” Niskat said.

    “But why did you believe that I was worth it?” Falene said.

    “Do you have that low of an opinion of yourself?” Niskat asked, “Last season wasn’t that rough on you, was it?”

    “Well, kinda, but that’s not it.” Falene sighed. “You don’t have many friends when you grow up your entire life the daughter of a Prime Minister and a Chancellor. I barely get to be alone.” Falene jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the Nautolan in the Senatorial Guard. “You know I don’t even think about the fact he’s always there? Is that weird? Is it weird that I know that they’ve done extensive background checks on you, on everyone on the team, on every player in the Elite League I could possibly play to make sure you’re not going to kill me or kidnap me? And that I think all of this is normal?”

    “That’s weird, but that doesn’t make you weird,” Niskat said.

    “Well, it’s hard to make friends when at your first play date you get frisked. Heaven forbid I should meet a nice guy,” Falene said.

    “You kidding? That Nautolan’s kind of hot. I like it when he frisks me.” Deenever looked over her shoulder.

    “I heard that,” the Nautolan called from his position scanning the beach.

    “We’ll be together one day, my love!” Niskat returned loud enough for him—and probably the rest of the beach—to hear. She turned back to Falene. “But what does that matter? We’re friends now.”

    “Yeah, but you had friends before. How come you meet me and we become best friends?” Falene said, “Didn’t you have best friends? You were normal.”

    Niskat snorted in a derisive laugh. “Normal? I don’t know what middle school you went to, but being better than all the boys at limmie doesn’t make your normal. It makes you a weirdo. And teenage girls aren’t exactly forgiving of other girls who are weird, even if they’re good at limmie.”

    “You’re kidding,” Falene said.

    “Maybe nobody ever hassled you because you’re the daughter of a Chancellor. I’m just a girl who was bigger and stronger than the other girls—and most of the boys. Teenage boys are so damn stupid too. Half of them were scared of asking me out. The other half weren’t interested in a girl who could embarrass them at limmie.”

    “Did you ever try not embarrassing them?” Falene asked.

    “You ever try sucking at limmie?” Niskat said.

    “I played last season, so yeah.”

    “Then you know it's no fun. Besides, any dude that needs to beat me at limmie needs to take a hike. The few guys who ever asked me out were total jerks. That’s being nice about them too.”

    “So you didn’t have any friends either? You make friends so easily though!” Falene said.

    “I had friends. I even had best friends. They meant a lot to me…but then I went to UBSD and they didn’t. And then I had a best friend there…and I graduated and we talk but we don’t see each other. You can’t be best friends when you don’t see someone regularly,” Niskat said.

    “Some people are.”

    “Maybe. Hasn't worked for me as much as I've tried otherwise.”

    They were quiet for a moment. “So then maybe we won’t be best friends some day,” Falene said.

    “I left for Cloud City and we were still best friends. Besides, I don’t think you could ever not be best friends with someone you win the Galactic Cup with,” Niskat said.

    “Guess we better get on that then,” Falene said with a smile.

    “Guess so,” Niskat said with a smile herself.



    Dining hall, Miners’ training facility, Hi’lo, Bakura

    Underlying the whole offseason was the murmuring of discontent that surrounded the Miners in the media. All of it was directed at the Smug Dragon who had completely botched the draft in every opinion. Pic was considered a solid grab, especially as it was generally agreed that Glencross needed an elite midfielder to play with. But to lose on both of the highly ranked Chiss goalkeepers with Jorpik gone had shocked everyone. To then go off the board for an unknown, Division II goalkeeper had been nothing short of treason to most commentators.

    “I don’t care how good this Comstock is. The point is that there was a Super 16 goalkeeper on the board when Cundertol could have used the ninth overall pick,” Lun Selayen pontificated on BBC Sports, “Sure, he came from the last place team in the conference, but he had a terrible defense in front of him. And there was a whole Bak10 full of goalkeepers to choose from. Why pick this nobody from I-Don’t-Care College on Ooooh-Look-at-Me-I’m-a-Flying City? What is Cundertol drinking? And can I get some because I am out of whiskey. Where is my whiskey?! Intern!”

    The press was equally scathing when it came to Ponie. “All reports of the former bench warmer for VCU indicates that she was an inferior, penalty-prone player who has no business not just in the Elite League, but the Premier League or even the Alliance Bolo-ball Conference. Why Cundertol absolutely squandered a draft pick on Ternardiel is a mystery. Coming so soon on the heels of Trieste’s vote of confidence in Cundertol for 275, one can only assume that he is attempting to get fired by the Chancellor for gross incompetence.”

    Though all the hate was being directed at Cundertol, who in the media of less journalistic integrity was being called “a lizard lover who clearly is attempting to kill Miners limmie just like the saurian are attempting to kill our Marines,” there were side effects. The opinion pieces and criticism had seeped into training camp. At first Falene tried to ignore it, but when she heard Rodders muttering at breakfast about “damn Holonet bloggers who’d never played a day of limmie in their lives” she knew things were getting bad. Falene, who usually ate with Niskat, politely begged off her usual breakfast seating arrangement and took her tray over to where Comstock was sitting alone and not looking sociable.

    “Hey. Can I sit with you?” Falene asked.

    “Sure,” Lizbit said, “Don’t know if I’ll be very good company though.”

    “That’s okay,” Falene said. She was starting to sit down when she stopped. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.” Falene put her tray on the table and went across the room to another table where Ponie was sitting similarly on her own. She was looking even less interested in sentient contact with her dark blue Miners hoodie pulled up over her head despite the fact it was a very pleasantly warm morning. “Hey Ponie. Come eat with Lizbit and me.”

    “No. Don’t feel like it,” Ponie said as she crunched some toast.

    The Vertical City girl was clearly not going to budge. So Falene decided not to either. “That wasn’t a request. That was an order, rook,” Falene said. She’d never tried this before. Heck, she was just a second year player herself. She didn’t even know if this was going to work.

    Ponie grabbed her tray, clearly unhappy. “Fine,” she said in a voice that said it wasn’t very fine as far as she was concerned. She trudged over to where Lizbit was sitting and plopped down, nearly spilling her juice. Falene took her seat trying to act as if everything was normal.

    “Hi,” Lizbit said to Ponie. The other woman didn’t respond.

    “Look, I’m not going to try to pretend that everything’s great. I just want to say that it’s hard, but you can’t let it get to you,” Falene said, “The beings who write that stuff are stupid. They don’t know us and we’re going to show them.”

    “Then they shouldn’t write about things they don’t know,” Lizbit said, getting a little angry, “It’s not like I wanted to go to a stupid Division II school anyways.”

    “You didn’t?” Falene said.

    “No. I got an offer from Republican. From Republican,” Lizbit repeated, “I wanted to wear crimson so bad.”

    “Why didn’t you?” Ponie asked, beating Falene to it.

    “Because of my stupid Dad. He made me go to Columbian. He said I had to,” Lizbit said, poking at her eggs with her fork, not looking up, “I didn’t want to. But he said every Comstock had gone to Columbian, that it was our destiny.”

    “That’s terrible,” Falene said.

    “No, what’s terrible is that I let him bully me around,” Lizbit said, suddenly stabbing her eggs, “I’m never going to let him do it again. And I’m never going back. Never. I’d rather die.”

    Falene didn’t know what to say to that.

    “What about your mom?” Ponie asked, “Didn’t she speak up for you?”

    Lizbit didn’t say anything, but kept playing with her eggs. “She’s dead,” Lizbit said.

    “Sorry,” Falene said, “That’s hard.” She was about to add that her father was dead but Ponie said something before she could.

    “I had sucky parents too,” Ponie said.

    “Couldn’t be worse than mine,” Lizbit said.

    “I moved out when I was 12,” Ponie said.

    Lizbit looked up from her eggs. “12?” she repeated. Ponie nodded, now looking down herself. “Why?”

    “They…they weren’t good people,” Ponie said softly, “and if I’d stayed I wouldn’t have become a good person either.”

    “Where’d you go?” Lizbit said.

    “The Vertical City has a place for everyone. It’s not pretty, but you can find it if you looked and you’re desperate enough. I was. Don’t know if I would have wound up any better than my parents if I hadn’t gotten in with the Valor Foundation,” Ponie said.

    “Ponie, don’t say that,” Lizbit said, her voice firmly. The Nar Shaddaa native looked up. “We’re better than them. We are.” Ternardiel nodded. “We might carry their names, but we’re going to do things that they’ll never do. I promise you.”

    “Okay. We are,” Ponie said, looking up.

    No matter what was said for the rest of the season and maybe longer, Falene was pretty sure that Lizbit Comstock and Ponie Tenardiel had just forged a bond that went beyond limmie. It was precisely the sort of thing that made 15 players a team. Maybe just a team that could do something.



    Practice field, Miners’ training camp, Hi’lo, Bakura

    “Again! Again!” Hulu called.

    “How many times are we going to run this?” Falene called out between breaths.

    “We’ll do it until it’s right and a hundred times after that,” the Khil said, “You want to know why? Because that’s how you win championships! You think the Patriots did the easy stuff last season in training camp? I know Reina Kether—I played with Reina Kether. And Reina Kether drills her teams to know their plays and schemes backwards and forwards.”

    “Yeah, well you’re no Reina Kether,” Max Grap said.

    “That’s right,” Hulu said, turning to the Devaronian, “You know what she said to me when we played together?”

    “You’re crazy,” Nelly Wizmark said wryly.

    “How’d you know?” the Khil said, genuinely surprised.

    “Call it a feeling,” Ponie replied.

    “Now, again!” Hulu said.



    The High Low, Hi’lo, Bakura

    “So does Jolla mean anything?” Becki Morlan was asking Jolla Pic.

    “Supposedly 'jewel,'” the Tatooine girl replied. The team was unwinding together at one of the local bars in town and there was a tacit agreement by the locals not to disturb the Miners when they wanted to get off the compound. In return, the Miners would sign just about anything at the end of practice that the locals wanted. It was a good enough arrangement to work.

    “Huh. I think I’ll call you that now,” Morlan said.

    “How about you call me Jolla?”

    “Everybody’s got a nickname. That’ll be yours,” Alesh said.

    “What’s your nickname then?” Jolla asked.

    “I’m the Baby Eopie,” Morgan said.

    “We can’t call you that now,” Rodders cut in, “You’re no baby anymore.”

    “Well then what are we going to call her?” Stormborn demanded.

    “The Beautiful Stallion,” Alana said, moving her hand through the air as she said it, as if reading off a marquee.

    “I like it,” Rodders said.

    “Isn’t a stallion a boy eopie?” Falene said.

    “Pretty sure any eopie can be a stallion,” Nefroq Vubbins said.

    “I’m pretty sure only boy ones can be,” Falene repeated.

    “So then what’s your nickname?” Jolla asked Falene.

    “I have a joint one with Niskat,” Falene said.

    “No you don’t,” Jolla said, “You can’t have a joint nickname.”

    “We’re Bearanger,” Niskat said, putting an arm around Falene, “I’m the Bear, she’s the Ranger.”

    “That’s not a good nickname!” Jolla protested, “Those are just your college mascots!”

    “Hey, just because you don’t like your nickname doesn’t mean you get to disparage everybody else’s,” Morlan said.

    “So then what’s your nickname, Miss I-Love-Nicknames?” Jolla challenged.

    “I’m the Hapan Hotness,” Becki said.

    “No, we’re the Hapan Hotness,” Morgan said.

    “No, you said that you’re the Beautiful Stallion. That makes me the Hotness,” Becki said.

    “No. We’re both the Hotness!” Morgan said standing up from her barstool.

    “You want a piece of me?” Becki shouted.

    From there the whole thing went downhill and somehow it ended with profound apologies to the owner of the High Low, a check being written to cover the damage, explanations to the Hi’Lo Police that everyone wasn’t really that drunk, some autographs to smooth ruffled feathers, and the two Hapans hugging it out.

    “I love you girl,” a pretty drunk Becki said.

    “I love you too,” an equally inebriated Morgan said.

    “Hapans,” Alana muttered to Falene, “Their pretty little faces never could handle their booze.”



    Bakura Gardens, Salis D’aar, Bakura
    Opening Day

    And that was how Falene came to where she was now. The season was on and Valerii was giving her final thoughts to the team before they took the field.

    “We’ve done a lot this offseason,” Valerii said, “We’ve given you the tools to win. But we haven’t given you a reason to win.”

    Falene looked up. What reason did they need to win? They wanted the Cup. That was what mattered.

    Valerii was unfolding a piece of flimsi. “The front office received this earlier this week and forwarded it to me.” She read its contents aloud.

    “Dear Miners,

    I just wanted to write to you before the season started to tell you that I’m pulling for you. I’m not a limmie fan, but my sister is. She’s currently deployed with the Fleet in the war fighting the Ssi-Ruuk. When she was here, she never missed a game on the Holonet. She’s always wanted to see a game at the Gardens. As a gift on her birthday last year we were able to get her two tickets to the season opener against Ylesia. Then the war broke out. When we declared war, she went the next day to enlist. The only thing that was more important to her than the Miners was doing her duty to Bakura, even if that meant missing her dream of seeing the Miners in person.

    “At her request I’ve been writing to her with all of the news about the team this offseason. Every time I get something back from her she thanks me and says that all the Marines appreciate the update. They know…” Valerii paused to clear her throat. Falene had a feeling she was trying to cover more than a tickle in her throat. “They know that the Miners are fighting for Bakura on the playing field, so they’re going to fight for Bakura on the battlefield. I just wanted you to know that we’re all with you, even everyone off fighting the war. You mean a lot to a lot of beings, especially my sister, which means you mean a lot to me.

    “Go Miners. Beat the Lightning.

    “Riker Stalir,” Valerii finished.

    “That’s why we play,” the head coach said. She turned around and with a piece of tape stuck the flimsi to the wall next to the vidscreen that was used to break down video. “That’s why we play,” Valerii repeated, tapping the flimsi, “Let’s go.”

    Falene and the Miners stood and filed down the hall that led to the locker room exit. They filed past the holos of past championship teams that dated back as far as 166 ABY. These were the legends of Bakuran limmie, the legends that this team sought to join. At the end of the hall, the door to the concourse and field to its right, were those famous words that Glencross had quoted:

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

    “And not to yield,” Falene said to herself. It was time to stop yielding points, to make a defense that would win them another championship. That was what Falene had to do.

    Before she came to the end of the hall, Falene turned around and in the same motion gave Niskat a high five, knowing Deenever would be ready for it. She was.

    “Damn it’s good to be back in the Gardens,” Niskat said.

    “You know it,” Falene replied.

    She turned back around and stepped out onto the blue carpet that ran across the concourse floor outside the Miners’ locker room. Security manned the rope line to either side of the carpet where the Miner fans stood for an up close and personal look at their team. Falene trotted across the carpet, the Opening Day energy seeping into her with every step. Anything was possible. It was a new season.

    It was time to play some limmie.

    TAG: @Bardan_Jusik (for war stuff) @CPL_Macja (for Vesper at her brother’s departure), @Rebecca_Daniels (for Ylesia at Bakura) @Tim Battershell (for ASF stuff)
    Last edited by Trieste, Oct 16, 2013
  13. jcgoble3 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Nov 7, 2010
    star 4
    --Transaction Wire--
    Euceron Storm
    • Placed Asyel Yan'ii (Bothan, Male, Full Forward) on the Injured Reserve/designated to return list (recovery from torn ACL suffered in 274 Galactic Cup Final); eligible to return in week 6
    • Named Clarice Su (Sullustan, Female, Full Forward) starter at Full Forward
    • Recalled Jalin Mioree (Human, Male, Full Forward, Ingbrand-eligible) from Commenor Gundarks
    TAG: @Jedi Gunny (my Week 1 opponent)
  14. Runjedirun Chosen One

    Member Since:
    Sep 3, 2012
    star 6
    IC: Fenton

    Fenton scoured the holonet for advice on weight loss. The information was confusing and contradictory. He needed to eat less. He knew that before he even logged into the net, but one of the first articles he found said that in order to avoid getting hungry and eating too much he should allow himself to eat whenever he was hungry. That couldn’t be right. Fenton was always hungry and eating all the time was exactly what had gotten him into this mess in the first place. Another article tried to clear that up by stating hunger could be confused by thirst. He wasn’t buying it. When he was hungry he was hungry. Would drinking a glass of water really prevent him from eating a snack?

    By midday the very next day Fenton decided the theory was sithspit. Drinking all that water was not making him less hungry. It was just causing him to run to the fresher 3 times an hour which had cost him two match-ups on ELL ’75 already. Fenton dumped the big thermos of water in disgust and decided to make himself some lunch. He stared at the bread his mom had in the cabinet was he supposed to eat whole wheat or 9 grain, he tried to remember. Too hungry to care he grabbed the 9 grain. He knew the spread was bad for him but he couldn’t stomach a dry sandwich so he tried to use about half what he normally would have.

    He bit in and felt his face turn despite himself. Were there seeds in this bread? He took a closer look and there were. It was awful it changed the entire texture of the bread. Even with some spread the sandwich seemed awfully dry but Fenton forced himself to finish. When he was done he grabbed a large handful of chocolates his mother kept on top of the cooling unit to rid the awful taste from his mouth.

    There was no less confusion about what type of exercise Fenton should do to lose weight the quickest. Some articles preached cardio, while others insisted that muscle tone was important since muscle burned calories faster than fat. Then there was always that advice to find a form of exercise you enjoy so that you would stick with it. Enjoy exercise? Fenton didn’t think the two words even belonged in the same sentence. Eventually he settled on the only thing available to him at the moment, the permacrete and his own two feet.

    He waited until after dark so that it would be less likely that others would see him. In the same clothes he’d worn all day, since he didn’t own anything specific to workout in Fenton headed outdoors. His goal was meager, he wanted to make it to the next block he planned to jog there and walk back. If it went well he’d go a bit further tomorrow he decided. The jog wasn’t as bad as he expected, boring and tedious yes, but downright awful, no. It felt so good that he repeated the routine two more times. He decided that was enough; no reason to overdue it on the first day.

    There were no events at the stadium this week. The Starkillers were using the field for practice and last minute preparations for opening day had to be made. So while he wasn’t busy trying to figure out what he could eat or out exercising Fenton followed his usual pre game rituals. He played several games of ELL ’75 as Ralltiir vs the Rebels. He updated all his social media sites with images of his favorite players Alyda Hovechar and Ty Allin in their 275 uniforms. On a whim he even went out and bought a Lightcin jersey since he had money of his own to spend and it seemed like everyone on Ralltiir was buying one, why should he be left out.

    Game day was bittersweet. Fenton woke with mixed feelings. He was excited to be attending an actual regular season game at Bankers Mansion, sure he would be working, but the job was growing on him. The difficult part of attending a game at the stadium was attending the game without his father. For years Fenton and his father had planned to celebrate his 16th birthday by going to their first ever Limmie match together. But just a few months before that day came Fenton’s father had walked out. He knew his parents had been arguing a lot, still he never imagined that his father would just leave and never communicate with him again.

    He did all he could not to think about it as he dressed for work that day. He had HSN on for last minute updates on any substitutions or other details that may give him a hint of how the game would play out today. Fenton had little doubt the Starkillers would win. The Rebels had been the second worst team in the league last year. There were no guarantees though and so Fenton was nervous. He reached to the back of his drawer and retrieved his lucky game day socks. He put them on left foot first as was his tradition. Just before he left the house he fixed a sandwich on whole wheat bread, which he had found was much better than the 9 grain.

    TAG: No one
    Last edited by Runjedirun, Oct 17, 2013
    Vehn and jcgoble3 like this.
  15. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 8
    IC: Ava Killenger
    Forrest Heights Mini-Mart, Time: 2030

    Ava perused the shelves of the Mini-Mart, trying to keep as low a profile as she could. The Rodian at the counter didn’t seem to mind as she watched him, counting his cash instead and focusing on the other customers in the mart, a family of three with a mother and her two young children near the candy rack. Ava pushed her head down and took one of the bags of chips off the bottom shelf of the rack in front of her. She looked at the price: 3 credits.



    No, she wasn’t going to pay that. Besides, she needed to get going; the party wouldn’t wait for her.

    Stuffing the bag into her old CorTech warmup jacket, she sauntered over to the beer aisle. The beer was room-temperature, yes, but she didn’t exactly want to go running around with cold beer contacting her skin. She grabbed as many bottles of beer and other alcohol that she could get her hands on and also stuffed them into her pockets, shirt, and anywhere else she could fit them without looking suspicious.

    Finally, waiting her turn for the family to reach the counter with their candy products, Ava made her move. She nonchalantly walked to the front of the store and then opened the door.

    “Hey, you going to pay for those?” the Rodian yelled at her. Ava, realizing that one of the beer cans was visible under her warmup jacket, took off running. The Rodian tried to get over the counter, but one of the children started to act up, and the mother got in the way of the store clerk. The man had to watch as Ava ran out of sight, not to be seen again.

    Ava ran two blocks before finally stopping. Looking behind, she couldn’t see the Rodian. Breathing of a sigh of relief that she hadn’t been followed, she proceeded to the house party only a few more blocks away with her prizes. Not only did she not have to pay for them, but now all of her friends would think she was even cooler. In a galaxy where college students, or at least recently-graduated college students, wanted to one-up each other, shoplifting was quite a big deal. Yes it was immature, but since when were most students rational?

    Ava entered the house, and was immediately swarmed by her college friends. A few members of the CorTech Limmie team were here, but otherwise a lot of them she didn’t know. They must have been local kids from the looks of it, most likely kids from Gillingnet High, where Ava had gone to high school before earning a full-ride scholarship to CorTech. They came to these parties to drink, and only to drink. The college-aged kids loved it, since these high schoolers might be willing to give them a few credits in exchange for booze, and shoplifting ensured that a profit, however slim, was made. Ava, of course, didn’t need to make the few credits, so instead this bout of theft was instead driven on by an intense desire to just be a college student for one more night.

    “Ava! Nice of you to show up!” one of her friends said. “What’s the haul?”

    “Quite a bit,” Ava said. She started to pull the various items out of her clothing and set them down on the table. Two bags of chips, a six-pack of cheap ale, about twenty cans of beer, some other alcoholic beverages, smaller bags of chips, and even a few sodas here and there. “And I got away from the clerk without having to pay even a single credit.”

    “Not a bad haul,” her friend commented. “I guess this means that you won our little bet.” She handed Ava ten credits, which the former CorTech player pocketed immediately. No need to keep these credits out in the open in case they were discovered and someone wanted to try and beat her up for them. Of course, she had played Limmie for four years in the Super 16 Conference, so who in their right mind would try to beat her up, anyways? She could take out most potential foes, and besides, she had friends here. There was no reason to worry. Everything was under control.

    (Skip ahead to about 0:32) (Lyric warning, by the way)




    “You know, we’re gonna miss you when you go pro,” her friend commented. “Come around here sometime, though. Although being a big celebrity and all, you’ll probably not be able to get here without your bodyguards following you. Or you’ll have some entourage with you. Yeah, that’s it.”

    “And you think I’ll be getting all that?”

    “I know so. You’re a pro after this, so for now we celebrate until we get completely smashed!”

    Finally, the party started. The music blared, the chips went around, and the binge drinking began. Ava quickly chugged down a beer she had stolen, laughing all the while as her friends stood in a circle, telling jokes and becoming more sloshed by the second. Then she downed another beer, her mind still clear in a miraculous way. This changed, however, as she kept downing alcohol. An ale, another beer, some more beer . . . she could feel her mind start to slip into a drunken haze, the music starting to become even more awesome in her mind. Every time she laughed, the joke itself seemed ten times better. It was like living in a haze, except that this was one of a joyful delirium where one’s problems would be drowned away for a night of fun and alcohol.

    Taking a breath from a drink, Ava just took a look at the scene in her drunken haze. She could see the high school kids also getting sloshed, some of them falling over and others laughing at some joke that didn’t make sense. Two of them were making out right on the floor behind the couch, both of the parties completely smashed and not thinking rationally. All the while the music played, the drunken haze becoming more feverish as time went by. There was nothing like a good old house party to celebrate something . . . hell, there was nothing like a house party for any reason. Good times were to be had as often as possible.

    “Hey, babe, you wanna make out?” some drunken high school kid of about sixteen years asked her. He was even drunker than Ava was, but the former college player looked away. “Seriously, it’ll be real cool,” he said.

    “Shut up,” Ava said, walking away. But it wasn’t really a walk, instead more of a waddle as she drunkenly navigated her way around the room. She all of a sudden had a real bad urge to pee. Reaching the bathroom, she found that the doorknob was locked. Inside, she could hear the tell-tale signs of two drunken college students having sex . . . very loud sex. She pounded on the door, but it didn’t open. Now her bladder really needed to be relieved, so she finally left the house, stumbled down the steps, and relieved herself in the bushes on the perimeter of the property. It wasn’t the best situation, but at least it served its purpose.

    When she re-entered, things were getting even crazier. Now some of the partiers were riding on each other’s backs, crashing into furniture and laughing as they maniacally romped around. Ava’s mind began to clear a little bit. What in the hell had this become? The music was now deafening, the beat really thumping the entire house. Hopefully the neighbors wouldn’t complain. This was not a house party like she had at school; this was becoming a full-on disaster. Those at least had been under some semblance of control, but no holds were barred here. Before she could say anything, a friend stuck a bottle of booze in Ava’s mouth and forced her to chug some more alcohol. The daze returned, and for another while she went along with what was going down in the house.

    At least until the ear-splitting shriek reached her ears. Her drunken haze lifted somewhat, and her instincts turned to where the scream had come from. It came from outside, so she barged through the pile of drunks on the floor outside to see what was going on. It was almost pitch-black outside, and being drunk certainly didn’t help, but Ava could see a few dark-clad people standing in front of another mass of people, from the sounds of it still drunk. Then the first group’s leader, at the head of the pack, came forward and punched someone in the other group in the face. That person went down hard onto the ground. But the leader of the other group then attacked another member of the second crowd, and another person went down. The punched person got back up, but the other one did not, and this was accompanied by more screams.

    Ava ran forwards, her mind clearing. Something big was going down . . . but what? The instigator group ran off into the darkness, but the other group huddled around the downed individual. Ava came up and saw who was on the ground . . . and screamed herself.



    Her younger brother, Barney Killenger, was lying on the ground in a pool of blood from a stab wound in his chest. Ava bent down and propped her brother’s body on her shoulders. Barney looked up at his older sister, a trickle of blood running from his mouth.

    “Barney, stay with me!” Ava yelled. Her world had been turned upside-down . . . but the worst part of it was that she had no idea that her younger brother was even at the party in the first place until now. He wasn’t even supposed to be in Forrest Heights right now, instead at a smaller college miles away starting school. Ava had long-since graduated from CorTech, and had gone through training camp with the Senators. The season was going to start in a few weeks.

    “Ava . . . I feel like I’m dying!” Barney stuttered.

    “Don’t die on me!” Ava yelled.

    “I’m scared . . . and I feel cold . . .”

    “Stay with me!” Ava shouted. “Barney! Stay with me!” But he didn’t. Barney Killenger’s head rolled to the side, his body growing limp. Ava sat there for several moments in complete silence, and then she began to cry. Her drunken haze lifted, and all of a sudden she was overcome in grief. She and Barney hadn’t always been the best of friends in their early days, but they had become almost inseparable over the past decade. She loved her brother . . . and now he was gone, stabbed by some unknown entity. She buried her head onto her deceased brother’s shoulder, crying all the while the crowd gathered around her in the dark.

    “Ava, you have to let him go,” a friend finally said. It wasn’t long after Barney had died, but for Ava, it seemed like an eternity. She didn’t want to let her brother’s body be alone on the grass. She could bring him back! She didn’t know how, but she could find a way! There had to be something she could do . . . something, anything. But a hand on the scruff of her jacket pulled her away from Barney’s body, and the next hour was spent sobbing out of sight of everyone else at the party. Needless to say, the party was quickly broken up when a call about a murder had been sent in, and the cops arrived. The drunken kids, trying not to get caught, scattered in all directions. Ava, when she was found by the cops by herself, was taken to the hospital to be with her brother. But she already knew what the coroner would find upon examination. Barney had died of a stab wound to the chest . . . and she hadn’t been there to save him. She hadn’t been there to temper the situation. What kind of team captain was she, anyways?

    She sat in the waiting room of the hospital, still saddened by the loss of her brother. When her parents came to the hospital, they asked Ava what had happened. But the rookie did not reply. Instead, she just cried into her mother’s shoulder, Mrs. Killenger trying everything she could to console her daughter. But it was no use; Ava could not forget the events that had transpired over the last few hours. She saw in her mind how Barney had looked at her, how he sounded as he knew that death was imminent. He had been so frightened, so terrified of his mortality. And she could not help him.

    The rest of the night was spent in her old bedroom back at home. But Ava couldn’t sleep, not even when her parents tried to console her. She spent most of the night screaming into her pillow, wanting to tear something apart, and flailing her legs. She came dangerously close to kicking her father in the face with one of her ill-timed kicks, but he knew better than to say anything about it. Losing Barney was a hard thing to swallow for him, but for Ava, her younger brother had been her best friend. And now he was gone.




    The next few weeks were a complete blur. Ava didn’t want to leave the house, because she was so stricken with grief. Her friends tried to call, but she wouldn’t answer. All she could think about was Barney’s death, and every time it popped into her mind, she was sent back into a tizzy.

    During one dinner, when she actually showed up, her father came home with a grim look on his face.

    “What’s wrong?” Ava’s mother asked.

    “I’ve been laid off,” Mr. Killenger replied solemnly.

    “What? How so?” his wife asked.

    “The damn company apparently thought I was expendable. I suppose it might be because Barney’s death has affected me enough to compromise my work ethic. So now I need to find another job.”

    “How are we going to support ourselves? Things in the job market aren’t looking good,” Mrs. Killenger said.

    “I know. But I have to try,” Mr. KIllenger said. Ava, now feeling slightly sick to her stomach after hearing this news, left the table. “Ava, where are you going? You haven’t even eaten your dinner.”

    “Not hungry,” Ava replied.

    “What’s wrong?” Mrs. KIllenger asked in a concerned tone of voice.

    “Everything!” Ava yelled out. “Everything is wrong! I let Barney get killed, and now because of that Dad lost his job because he was more focused on the funeral arrangements than on work! It’s all my fault!”

    “No, honey, it isn’t,” Mrs. Killenger said, but Ava was having none of it. She ran back up to her room and flopped onto the bed, crying once again. Now there was going to be pressure on her to provide for her family, which she could easily do with her new contract. But that wasn’t the biggest obstacle she now had. And that obstacle was herself. She didn’t want to leave the house, or eat, or even sleep. How could she even think of playing Limmie at a time like this?





    A Week Later

    Ava scurried into a back alley, checking over her shoulder to see if she was being followed. When she determined that she wasn’t, she went up to the black-clad figure who was also in the alley.

    “You the girl who wanted my product?” the man asked in a gruff tone. Ava nodded. “It’s going to cost you 200 credits. And don’t try anything funny, because I have a blaster on my person. I will use it, too, so give me my money, you get your product, and we both go our separate ways.”

    “Sounds fair,” Ava said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the requisite 200 credits. Days earlier, she had cashed her signing bonus for the Senator contract, so she was now somewhat flush with cash. Her contract wasn’t exactly huge, but at least it would pay well. “200 credits, as requested.”

    The figure reached into its own pocket and pulled out a bag of small red droplets. It seemed like there were about 30 or so in this one package. “Now, I will tell you this now, lest you decide to call the cops on me, or are an undercover cop trying to bust me. If you run for help, if you tattle on me, you’ll find my blaster on the back of your head, with me pulling the trigger, faster than you can say “200 credits”. Don’t toy with me, and we’ll be fine.”

    “All right,” Ava said, obviously concerned. She had never been a part of a drug deal before; this was all-new territory for her. A few friends, or former friends, had been users to varying degrees, but she had always tried to stay away if possible. However, she wanted to feel good, wanted to get high. Ever since Barney had died, she had not been herself. She couldn’t bear to think of his face as he died, that look of utter terror and confusion that were being contemplated by him in his last few moments of existence. She knew that drugs were a pathway to hidden dangers, but in her anger, confusion, and sadness, she was willing to do whatever it took to get back on track mentally. Maybe she could take a few of these hits and be back to normal. Maybe she could get high one time and then be fine afterwards. She had to try.

    The figure took the 200 credits from Ava, and she received the droplet bag. “I’m glad we’ve conducted this exchange,” the figure said before disappearing into the shadows, leaving Ava all alone in the darkened alleyway.




    Ava sat alone in the alleyway, and opened the package of droplets up. One of the small red balls dropped from its package onto her outstretched palm. With it offered hope, offered a chance of escape, offered an escape from reality. As such, she took a swig of her beer, which had mostly been consumed by now, and then popped the drug into her mouth, not thinking twice about her actions.

    And then the high hit. Instantly, Ava forgot what had been ailing her, instead surrounded by beautiful colors and a feeling like she was walking on air. It was what she wanted- an escape from normality.




    The next morning, Ava woke up on the hard concrete in the alley. She had no recollection of why she was still there, and only the empty beer can, now crumpled up into an unrecognizable form, was proof that she had really just done a drug. It was at this time that she wondered why she had done such a thing; drugs were not to be toyed with, she reasoned, so why had she been dumb enough to take part in a deal? On the other hand, it had given her a quick respite, a break, from reality, which was what she wanted.


    But how would the team take it if they knew she was taking drugs? They would kick her off the team immediately, wouldn’t they? Therefore, she needed to keep it a secret until she was over her emotional issues. Perhaps this one instance was enough to get her mind back on track. Perhaps she was on the road to being cured. She got up, dusted herself off, and left the alley, hoping that what she had just done was for the best.

    TAG: No One, although I have to think @Vehn for getting me hooked on that soundtrack
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  16. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 8
    Predicted Order of Finish:

    Skywalker Conference:

    Euceron Storm
    Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
    Agamar Packers
    Mando’ade Mercs
    Corellia Rebels
    Ylesia Lightning

    Solo Conference:

    Chandrila Patriots
    Ralltiir Starkillers
    Hapes Consortium Buccaneers
    Rydonni Prime Monarchs
    Coruscant Senators
    Bakura Miners


    Power Rankings (Preseason):

    1. Euceron Storm – Last season’s runner-ups fine-tune things this offseason and should be back in contention next season if all goes well. We will see how good this team is without star forward Asyel Yan’ii.

    2. Chandrila Patriots – Never underestimate the Patriots. They want to win another Cup, and typically fly under the radar. Not anymore. We’ve noticed.

    3. Mando’ade Mercs – Major gambles taken here to improve from last season, but talent could be enough to propel them forward. However, could also stumble to the bottom of the League if the rookies and new players fail to gel quickly. Also, having a war going on isn’t exactly a good backdrop for Limmie.

    4. Ralltiir Starkillers – Doubt they can repeat last season, because as the season wore on they started to show signs of major fatigue. However, should still contend for a playoff spot.

    5. Nar Shaddaa Smugglers – Can definitely fall flat this season with all of their youth, but showed flashes of brilliance last season. Also, if history is any indication, the Smugglers don’t need the best players to win. A brand-new stadium and a win over the rival Miners has them flying high right now.

    6. Hapes Consortium Buccaneers – Narrow miss on the playoffs last season and having the Draft definitely gives the C-Bucs momentum into this season. Now they need to finish strong, as they failed to do last year.

    7. Agamar Packers – Quiet offseason, but got bigger (literally). We will see how Tim Dodd does in his second season, now that teams have seen his team once around and now know what to employ to beat the Packers.

    8. Coruscant Senators – This team can go up or down. With their talent, they can win the Galactic Cup. However, with so many new pieces, especially on defense, one or two big injuries could send this team into a downward spiral.

    9. Corellia Rebels – Can definitely improve, but still not sold on this team.

    10. Rydonni Prime Monarchs – Not hard to improve on last season’s terrible effort, but this team could definitely contend if all the pieces fall into place at the right time. However, could easily repeat last season, especially with issues regarding the local government casting a shadow over the team.

    11. Bakura Miners – Not a good friendly slate to be honest. Bringing in another coach to work with the defense should pay off, but how much is debatable. This team has the options to contend for a playoff spot, but at the moment they are very much a work in progress.

    12. Ylesia Lightning – How the mighty have fallen. Ylesia has a messy defensive situation, and their offense was punchless down the stretch last season. Add in anti-human sentiments that are still lingering, and this team is in shambles at the moment.


    TAG: @Bardan_Jusik, @Trieste, @Vehn, @Rebecca_Daniels, @CPL_Macja, @jcgoble3, @Runjedirun, @Tim Battershell
    Last edited by Jedi Gunny, Oct 18, 2013
    Vehn, Trieste, jcgoble3 and 3 others like this.
  17. jcgoble3 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Nov 7, 2010
    star 4
    IC: Zay Antilles
    Location: General Manager's office, Euceron Stadium, Eusebus, Euceron
    Time: Three months before the start of the 275 season

    Aebatt took a moment to consider what the Jedi had just told her. Finally, she said, "How sure are you?"

    "About seventy percent," said Palla. "We could have interpreted the message wrong, but I don't think that's likely."

    "Seventy percent," repeated Aebatt. "Seventy percent chance that the Storm will be attacked by this madman. And you said that this is the same guy that tried to attack the Galactic Cup Final two years ago?"

    "Yes."

    Aebatt sat back and thought. After a couple of minutes, she abruptly leaned forward and spoke. "I'd like to make an official request. From what you told me, it takes a Jedi or two to stop this guy."

    "And even then it doesn't always work."

    "But it takes the chance from zero to reasonable. I want the two of you to travel with the team this season to help defend us. Perhaps simply having Jedi with the team will deter him."

    Palla was already shaking her head. "On the contrary, Rondy brought fifty guys to Tavell for the sole purpose of attacking Zay and myself. And he succeeded."

    Zay added his voice to the conversation. "I actually think he's more likely to attack with us present. Or any Jedi, for that matter."

    Aebatt shook her head. "I think that if he's going to attack, he's going to do so unless something stops him. I don't think he's going to choose now to attack when he previously wasn't going to just because he finds out that you're traveling with the team."

    Palla sighed. "Alright then. I still think it's a bad idea for us to go with you guys, though. What if I ask the Council to send a different team? Zay's too attached to limmie anyway. He needs to break that, and following his favorite team around isn't going to help with that."

    "I suppose I can live with that."

    "Great. Let me get ahold of the Council and talk to them."



    Palla stared as the holocomm at Euceron Stadium powered down. "Well, I didn't expect that."

    Zay scratched his head. "What did he say again? Something about a better understanding of Rondy?"

    "Yeah, and that we have a better chance to stop him because of that. And he wants to test your limmie attachment. Not the way I'd do it, but I suppose that's why I'm a Knight and he's the Grand Master."

    Zay stifled a snort and turned to Aebatt. "Well, looks like you get your first choice after all."



    Location: Whatever stadium the Senators are playing at this week :p
    Time: Week 1 game against Senators

    Zay spotted his Master in the crowd and hurried up to her. "Nothing?" he asked.

    "Nothing, except that I need to get a jersey that fits better," she replied. Both were dressed as the Storm fans that they were, creating a simple undercover disguise.

    Zay laughed. "Well, if that's the worst thing we discover today, I'd say we're doing good. At any rate, security is on high alert as we asked them to be. One of them even stopped me as a suspicious person."

    Now it was Palla's turn to laugh. "You can be a suspicious character at times. Think we should head down and keep Mr. S'rily in the loop?"

    "Nah, I don't think we need to give him regular updates. Let him focus on the game. Speaking of him..." Zay's voice trailed off as a grin developed on his lips.

    "What?" asked Palla.

    "Who's going to attack with Superbothan present?" Zay broke into a hearty laugh.

    Palla opened her mouth, thought better of it, and simply joined Zay in laughing.

    TAG: @Jedi Gunny for this week's game.
    Last edited by jcgoble3, Oct 18, 2013
  18. Tim Battershell Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Sep 3, 2012
    star 5
    IC: Tim Dodd - Team Staff Seats, 4th Fleet Memorial Field, Rydonni Prime.

    Naboo, Tim reflected, was a truly beautiful world; and Theed, with its rivers and waterfalls, had obviously had its location selected by someone with an artist's eye; however one look at their first actual Gungan had entirely changed the game-plan for the friendly against the Naboo Ducks. It was completely against Asyr's, Tim's and the Packers' grain to risk causing opposition injuries in any friendly encounter, so 'The Bombardment' was immediately ruled out. Gungan eyes looked so vulnerable to impacts from a dropping bolo-ball, especially one coming down from a height. That meant ground-Limmie and the Ducks were very good at it!

    Even substituting Everett into the midfield, putting in "TK" for Dek and replacing the entire Half-Back-Line with three Noghri hadn't stopped the Ducks from running rings around the Packers' defence and scoring freely; as the final score of 7-34 in the Home side's favour showed all too clearly. Still, the match had had a considerable value, if only to ruthlessly blast away any complacency from the 274 Season. The Packers had certainly gone into the final week of pre-season training with a will.

    Everett and "TK" had looked very nervous when Tim had done his customary post-match aisle-walk on the return trip, but he left them looking much more comfortable by simply saying to them "You've got the skills, and you both work hard out on the pitch. Playing sport, any sport, is a matter of Confidence, Confidence, Confidence; those three, and the greatest of those is Confidence! Miles' Circuit Training is helping you in one way, by making you fitter than you've ever been before; the rest is up to you, but I have confidence in you!".

    Sitting behind the boundary line at pitch level was a new experience, and had been chosen more because Tim had become royally bored with the splendid isolation of the Owner's (or visiting Owner's) Box than for any other reason. The one and only time he had hosted guests at Memorial Stadium had been interrupted by that thug (now doing hard time on the local prison world, and reportedly very scared about the imminent emergence of the Curr family, his erstwhile employers, into the general population). As for the visit to Bakura, that was an embarrassment he'd far rather forget - except that he would be hosting the Noble House at Memorial Oval next week. Hopefully, the Miners' new line-up would do much better this year - he didn't want to feel responsible for any further culling of that particular team. First time round, the planetary response to the documentaries had been very good indeed, though, and they were scheduled to be aired again during the coming week.

    The following two matches were (due to the peculiarities of the Elite League's schedule) against two teams that the Packers had never faced before, the Coruscant Senators then the Chandrilla Patriots. What a tragedy that the Senators had lost their Stadium to a freak storm and an equally freak accident; one that had made Tim have the teams responsible for the design and construction of the 'flying arch' closely re-examine how well it would stand up to lightning strikes; thankfully, Calna Muun didn't seem to get many lightning storms, but better safe than a massive rebuilding job in the future. That the collapse had occurred while the Senators' GM was holding a Media briefing in the parking lot outside (and had actually been on-camera at the time, with the Stadium as a backdrop) added insult to injury.



    Tim stood with hand over heart as 'Star of Agamar' played. Just the Monarchs' Anthem now, then he'd get his first real taste of Limmie from a player's or a fan's perspective.


    TAG: @CPL_Macja, @Vehn, @Trieste.
    jcgoble3, Trieste and Vehn like this.
  19. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

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

    National University, Coruscant, Pre-Game

    “Ow! Stop pulling it!” Gark said, contorting his face into a look of pain.

    “I just want you to look good for the cameras,” Me’lin S’rily said to her husband as she finished smoothing out a small section of his fur with her hand. “Doesn’t hurt to look professional out there.”

    “We’ve been together how long, and you still think these hairs will stay put?” Gark asked. “I’ve been battling them for over 40 years, and they still won’t stay matted down when I want them to be.”

    “Oh shush,” Me’lin chided as she grabbed hold of another chunk of Gark’s fur and started to smooth it out in her hands. “I think you look great.”

    “Depending on how this game goes, I might end up having hair all over the place,” Gark commented. “It’s a stressful position, being coach.”

    “Doesn’t hurt to have a little bit of personal care before the game,” Me’lin replied.

    “How much longer? I need to get back to the locker room,” Gark said. The two of them were further down the hallway from the home locker room here at National University. It was odd to be playing an Elite League game at a college stadium, but it wasn’t exactly new territory. The 265 season had been played strictly at Republican University, and the 270 playoff game had been at CorTech. But what was new was the philosophy of playing at different home venues every week. There wasn’t a built-in crowd at one venue; instead, it was a different experience at each one. The team almost felt like a second road team, even at designated “home” games.

    “Almost done. Just give me another minute,” was the reply. Gark waited this minute out, and when Me’lin was done combing his fur, he was ready to take off. “Good luck,” she said, kissing him on the cheek before heading back to the team box. Gark walked back to the locker room, taking a deep breath as he did so. In his hands was his headset. It wasn’t the same one he had used in his old coaching gigs, but it felt just as familiar to him as he handled it. He could sense the excitement of having it around again, the unassuming plastic headset pieces almost like a shrine to the sport. The mic that would pick up his line calls and audibles, the ear cups that would allow him to hear and communicate . . . and the framework that put it all together. This headset, he reasoned, was more than a piece of plastic. For him, it meant freedom. It meant a chance to get out there and win a game for the team, win the game for the fans, win the game for Coruscant itself. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that the headset was like a Limmie team. All of the pieces had a role to play in making the unit effective, just like each player had a defined role to the team. It was amazing to just step back and think about this every once in a while, because when things were broken down into something simple, sometimes amazing things happened.



    (Start at 2:15)

    When Gark reached the locker room, he exhaled slowly and opened the door. When he closed it behind him, all eyes turned back to him. All 30 players, coaches, and related staff, all staring at the legendary Bothan. Gark cleared his throat and placed his headset on.

    “Looking good, coach,” Dirxx commented from the side of the room. “Looks like you never left 272, eh?”

    “Pretty much,” Gark replied. “Proceed,” he said to Pam Korthe, who continued to drill her troops for the game. Gark stood back and watched the Zeltron go through her motions. She was now in her third year as the head coach of this team, with two playoff appearances under her belt already plus one from 271 with Thyferra. He was glad to have her on board . . . but there were also times that he wished he was the one up there garnering all the attention. He had once been the lead here, drawing up the plays, calling all the shots, winning and losing the games. And no matter how bad the losses were and how elated the victories were, there was nothing like the atmosphere of being a head coach. There was an aura to it, something that he couldn’t describe. Being a coordinator was one thing, but head coaching . . . that was a whole different ballgame. And a whole different rush.

    When it came time to get into the line to head out to the field, Gark fell into line behind the players. He hadn’t been here in what seemed like ages, even though it was only a few years. He could see only a little bit past the sea of orange and black uniforms in front of him, the new players who were taking over for the Old Guard, the teams he had inherited, built, trusted, and suffered with on their way to success. There was no mistaking that those players, the Dirxx Horstses, the Shayt Contars, the Polis Vaynes, Moen Heatlys and Shev Fil’yers, Tavis Corizyls, and Dilfy Pogrids had a major hand in getting this team off the ground. But he also had a stake in this team. He had built them from nothing, back when he was new to the game himself. And he had built it on trust, on a will to win tempered with teamwork. He had weeded out the bad apples and put in place a successful machine, one that had been ridden to 2 Cup titles and six Finals appearances in the Era. And now it was another chance to help get the team back there to the Promised Land from the ground. It was time to return to the field of battle in this manner. It was time to play Limmie.

    Then Gark noticed that Dirxx was at the very back, the Besalisk standing there with a very stoic look on his mug. “What is it?” Gark asked as he joined his former team captain at the back of the line as they waited for the signal to head out onto the field.

    “It’s been a long time since I last came out of this tunnel,” Dirxx commented. “A long time.”

    “Oh, that’s right, you went to college here,” Gark finished.

    “Back before the Hall-of-Fame career, before the Cup titles, before the captaincy, before I made the pro team . . . I honed my craft here on this field,” Dirxx said. “It’s been a while since I was last here. Was a couple of season ago when they retired my number, but that was different. Now I come back the conquering hero who is leading the next generation of great players onto the field.”

    “Kinda surreal, isn’t it?” Gark asked. Dirxx nodded. “You ready for another season?” the Bothan asked, even though he knew the Besalisk was. Now, himself, on the other hand . . .

    “No, but I don’t have a choice,” Dirxx said. “Let’s get this first win out of the way, and then we can go from there.”

    “I hear ya on that one,” Gark said. Now the team finally had permission to get onto the field, and they streamed out to the cheers of the crowd. Some pockets of Euceron Storm fans weren’t very receptive at having the Senators be the home team, and Gark noticed as he came out of the tunnel that there was more blue and white here today than ever before for a Storm road game here on Coruscant. Perhaps some people were jumping on the Storm bandwagon? Well, they had done well last season, so Gark knew he wouldn’t be surprised at that answer, if in fact that was the case. Winning teams sold tickets, and Commissioner’s Trophy winning ones doubly so. Hm, that was the one thing he was still missing . . . better get a good start on that sooner rather than later.

    There was also word going around that the Storm might have a mad gunman stalking them from planet to planet this season, and that security here at National was being tightened. Gark had been briefed before the game about all this, but he wasn’t too worried. One, he heard a couple of well-trained Jedi were on the case, and two, he was Superbothan, after all. He wasn’t exactly the kind of guy a gunman would want to tangle with. But precautions had been taken, and Gark wanted to make sure that there was no chance of an attack today. The public didn’t need to know, because if they found out there might be a plot to attack the stadium, they would flip out. Besides, there was more than enough security here. He wasn’t too worried, but would keep an eye out nonetheless. As such, he had his most trusted security officials on hand at the game, patrolling the sidelines. One of them, Garrumpy Katt, a feline man of a species known as “Grumpps” for their perpetual annoyed attitudes, was standing next to Gark as the Bothan headed out to the sidelines.

    “So, Garrumpy, you like being here for your first game?” Gark asked as he settled in.

    “NO,” was all the guard said in a monotone voice.

    [IMG]

    “Really? That’s all you have to say?” Gark asked. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, that was for sure.

    “Mr. S’rily, can I have your autograph?” yelled a fan from the nearby seats.

    “NO,” replied Garrumpy in that same annoyed tone.

    “Stand down, Mr. Katt,” Gark commented. He went over and signed a quick autograph before returning to the sideline. There were only a few minutes left before the game started, so everyone was getting into their positional huddles. All of the defenders huddled around Gark. The old veterans, or at least longer-tenured team members than the rest, mixed with the newcomers. Ortho Dyhon, Jerek Deter, Myles Tormera, Doon’sun, the older players, now standing next to Abbey Waters, Christine Gamble, Tank Bratter, and Rhyric Loayen, the newer players.

    “All right, gang, listen up,” Gark said as he kneeled down in the center of the huddle. “The Storm are missing Mr. Do-It-All Yan’ii today with an injury. That’s going to cause them to find other sources of scoring on their team, which they happen to have. However, with him out of the lineup, that puts them in a much tougher position. They need to spread out their attack a little bit because they don’t have their one player who can burn you every possession. What we need to do is attack their newer players when they get the ball, and force them to make rookie mistakes. We also need to blanket them with smothering coverage, not allowing them to pass the ball around. We can give up ground out there, but don’t give up passing yards. Bend a little, but don’t break. Rookies, I need you to follow your veteran teammates out there. Don’t fall for pump fakes and misdirections. Stay on your assignment, and you should be fine. Now, I want to run a mix of one-on-one and zone here today, like usual. We may deploy a box zone at some point, but I want to see how we do against them in single coverage first. Remember, we’re going to use bump-and-run today. Hit them off their line and then stick to them like glue. We want to keep them on their toes and on the turf, all right? Go out there and give ‘em hell.”

    As the players settled themselves out on the field, Gark took another deep breath. Here they went into another Elite League season, and he was once again a part of it on the sidelines. There were his six starters on the pitch, Deter, Zummaroroo, Dyhon, Tormera, Gamble, and Waters. Now was their chance to make a statement to open the season. And he was going to be here to coach them to that end.






    IC: Ava Killenger

    Ava didn’t feel with it in the locker room leading up to the game. She had taken several hits over the last few nights of her mysterious drug, and it seemed to be sapping her of her will to get up and go. Christine noticed her roommate just not looking with it.

    “You look terrible,” her fellow rookie said.

    “I’m not feeling it today,” Ava replied sullenly.

    “First-game jitters, eh?”

    “Yeah, I guess so,” Ava said. It definitely wasn’t jitters. No, she couldn’t say why she was out of sync today. If anyone knew she was taking drugs . . . that wouldn’t end well.

    When Ava took a seat on the team bench when the game was ready to go, she still felt unmotivated. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to do anything in this first half. She didn’t want to move from this spot, she was so out of motivation. All she could think about was a nagging urge to take another hit. Perhaps at halftime . . .? No, that was too dangerous, someone might see her. She would have to get through this game and then attend to that issue.

    Finally the game began, and Ava Killenger didn’t care. She just sat on the bench and gave a blank stare to everything. For once in her life, she didn’t care about Limmie. She felt terrible.

    TAG: No One, although I think @Bardan_Jusik might get a kick out of a piece of this :p






    OOC: For everyone who plays on Coruscant this season, here is where you will be playing.


    Week 1 vs. Euceron: National University
    Week 3 vs. Agamar: Valorum University
    Week 7 vs. Rydonni Prime: Coruscant Air Fleet Academy
    Week 8 vs. Bakura: University of Coruscant
    Week 9 vs. Ralltiir: Republican University

    TAGs to @Tim Battershell, @CPL_Macja, @Trieste, @Runjedirun
    Last edited by Jedi Gunny, Oct 19, 2013
  20. Rebecca_Daniels Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Sep 3, 2006
    star 5
    New character alert, GM approved and such

    Name: Lejique Beiron
    Species: Zeltron
    Gender: Female
    Birth year: 243
    Physical appearance
    [IMG]
    Home world: Corellia
    Relation to Team: Team Reporter
    Brief Biography:

    Lejique comes from a rich family settled on Corellia. Life growing up was easy enough, as she was somewhat spoiled by her father, and academics came easily to her. However, when "daddy's little girl" moved away to Coruscant for university, things changed. She could still call her father up and ask for that pair of designer pumps she'd been looking at, but even as an adult she didn't have access to her parents' money. So she made do in a nice shared apartment with fellow journalism majors, and resisted their attempts to convert her from a Rebels fan to a Senators fan. Even after switching to a dual-major with xenolinguistics, Lejique still finished near the top of her class.

    Jobs were hard to come by after graduation, and Lejique ended up away from the Core, doing the jobs she had to in order to build up her career. She had offers to become the face of various small-time holonews channels, but it was pretty obvious to her that they wanted her for her appearance rather than her resume, and took the little jobs instead, until she found herself at HNN, compiling data and doing research for the real reporters, mostly for the sports segment. After some years there, the Ylesia Lightning's need for a team reporter crossed her desk, and she wasted no time in applying and quitting HNN; her record was perfect for the job, as one of the requirements was that she understand a multitude of languages. It would require saying goodbye to cheering for her homeworld Rebels, but if it meant getting to work in the ELL? Though it's been a couple seasons since her hiring, Lejique is still settling into her role covering the Lightning, especially after the media shutdown concerning the protests the previous year.
    jcgoble3 likes this.
  21. Rebecca_Daniels Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Sep 3, 2006
    star 5
    Sorry for the double post.

    IC: Lejique Beiron
    Training Camp

    Training camp meant a lot of work for the media team. Lejique and her holocam operator, Favin, had were making the rounds in the locker room - where there seemed to be more players set up with folding chairs and bins as temporary lockers than actual stalls - interviewing both returning and the new or tryout players. Most of the players were boring, giving recycled comments and flat stares; they didn't have to like her, but it was going to be a long season if all the new guys were as bad as the usual. At least she wasn't the one who had to cut the segment together, that was Asca's job, thankfully.

    A small group of tryouts were just after Kasin Urdaaza, who was in a good mood before the season's start. Before she has to deal with watching replay after replay of her mistakes in slow motion, Lejique thought privately. At least she was interesting, with her black hair dyed with red and blue streaks against team policy (they were only allowed team colours, but they made exceptions for the eccentricities of their star goalkeeper) and would mouth off like no one else - off the record, of course. She complained - jokingly - about their young goaltender, drafted the previous year, trying to steal her spot on the roster and how she'd have to work twice as hard to make sure he got booted back to Kashyyyk.

    Speaking of Kashyyyk... After wrapping up with Kasin, Lejique was greeted by the tryouts, camped around their chairs. Ollai, Akhirria, Chokazza, Battacca, and Sekmarrin, all Rangers players offered tryouts after management cleared out the back end of the roster. From what Lejique had seen, it looked likely that Akhirria and Ollai would crack the roster, but the rest were questionable. Probably would keep some as reserves and send the rest back to help out their young draftees in the development league, but she kept her theories to herself - well, herself and to her articles discussing the lineup, though she'd have to talk to Coach Zan before she printed that.

    "So, who first?" she prompted, since their cluster didn't lend to any particular order. The three Wookiees jostled each other a bit before Chokazza - the one with braids - grumbled and stood up. Lejique tried not to wince; Wookiees were great Limmie players, but they were very tall and she was... not. Pumps could only do so much, and Favin had to back up to accommodate the difference.

    Once she finished up with the Wookiees, Akhirria, and the shy Ollai, Lejique turned back to make sure she hadn't missed anyone. Something told her she'd missed one, but she'd counted all...

    "Hey, it's my favourite reporter! Back to interview the ELL's next great star?"

    Lejique closed her eyes and counted silently to three before fixing a smile on her face and turning towards the missing player. Arren Cosh. He was playing himself up again, and while she knew he was doing it for the laughs, it had been a week and he was already getting on her nerves.

    "Might I remind you that you've only ever played in the Premier and Development Leagues? You're not likely to make the team, let alone become an ELL star," she pointed out, trying to get him to shut up, but his irritating grin just widened.

    "You know my stats! I knew there was a reason you're my favourite." He turned to Akhirria, who wisely ignored him. "Didn't I tell you she was my favourite?"

    Hitting players would probably be bad for her career, Lejique reminded herself. Also probably would hurt her more than him. She took a breath before speaking. "Are you ready for your interview?"

    "Oh yeah, just let me find a shirt." There was that too. While his Limmie talents were questionable, Lejique couldn't deny that his self-promotion was entirely fair when it came to his physical condition. Unfortunately for him, his loud mouth ruined any possibility of anyone ever liking him.

    Once Arren had found his shirt and Favin had stopped snickering long enough to balance the holocam, she put on her professional face and asked her questions. Textbook questions about what he felt about the team, what role he could play, areas of improvement, nothing she didn't ask anyone else, but Arren managed to make it look like she'd asked him what the meaning of life was. He considered each question carefully and gave surprisingly thoughtful responses about his difficulties defending and his hopes for improving with the coaching staff on Ylesia.

    "Chances are high the team will have a different feel with all the new faces being brought in, possibly yourself included. What do you think of the look of the new Lightning so far through camp?"

    "The other players are great, really looking to get back to where they were in 273, and I'd love to be a part of that. But there's this one person on the team who just won't give me the time of day, she's a reporter." He sighed dramatically, but his expression stayed serious. "I think she's the best but I'm pretty sure she hates me. Maybe I should tell her she'd beautiful more often. What do you think, Favin?"

    Her holocam operator was laughing silently again. Traitor. "We're done here, and that last bit's not going in the broadcast, got it?" Favin nodded and Lejique took the opportunity to stalk off. Why did she ever think sports reporting would be a good idea?

    ------

    Pre-game at Bakura Gardens

    After the disaster on Coruscant, the Lightning were taking the opportunity to do a full safety check while the team was on the road to Bakura after training camp. There had been an outcry from local Ylesians, worried about damage to the stadium after the protest - that was the term the media was firmly sticking to - and while their annual safety inspection passed, advanced ticket sales had dropped, so GM To had arranged for additional inspections and added safety measures, and did so quite vocally so that ticket sales would rise again... hopefully. Lejique thought it would do more good to win their first game of the season, but it couldn't hurt to reassure a still-shaken populace.

    The Bakura Miners were going to make for an interesting opening game. They had a lot to play for, what with the war, but whether that'd make them play better or worse, well, they'd have to wait and see. And then there was the Cundertol thing, but she was starting to get the impression that nobody liked him, so beating the Miners to get at him wasn't much of a story this season.

    More immediately, Lejique wasn't sure she'd ever been quite so far from home. She was a Core girl, and Ylesia felt like a backwater planet to her. Bakura was just... far. At least it didn't look like some of these rim planets, it was beautiful, yet civilized. Just enough so to make her miss Corellia. Whose great idea was it to stick a Limmie team on the edge of the galaxy anyway?

    After a few pre-game comments (not from the unfortunate Arren Cosh who'd managed to make the team on reserve despite her best attempts to use the Force to convince the coaching staff to send him far away; clearly she was no Jedi) Lejique was ushered out of the locker room to the press box. They couldn't have her disturbing their pre-game team mojo, it was fine. The press box had better company anyway, like her datapad for game notes and Asca being silent and superior because... actually, she had no idea why; he probably just didn't like her because her hair was better.

    Her everything was better, if she was honest. Lejique had a collection of business skirts and shirts and jackets and pumps and her hair was never anything less than perfect. Favin took a more informal approach to his work wear, as did most of the staff, really, but then he got to hang out at field level and take holos. She just liked to look good and look professional, not that it was hard next to sweaty Limmie players, which was usually where she was seen nowadays.

    Lejique sat down with a bottle of water next to her silently superior not-quite-as-nice-hair co-worker and prepared her datapad to take notes. First game of the season, Lightning at Miners...

    TAG: @Trieste
    Last edited by Rebecca_Daniels, Oct 19, 2013
    jcgoble3 and Trieste like this.
  22. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    GM Post

    It's the start of a brand new season and that means that anything is possible--except for an undefeated season for 6 teams once these scores are posted. But other than that, anything is pretty much possible. ;)

    Bonus rolls to Agamar, Bakura, Coruscant, Euceron, Mando'ade, Nar Shaddaa, Ralltiir, Rydonni Prime, and Ylesia. In other words, everybody except those pesky NPC teams.

    Week 1 Results

    Euceron Storm at Coruscant Senators (29-2)
    Ylesia Lightning at Bakura Miners (3-6)
    Agamar Packers at Rydonni Prime Monarchs (29-28)
    Corellia Rebels at Ralltiir Starkillers (15-7)
    Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Chandrila Patriots (23-8)
    Mando’ade Mercs at Hapes Consortium Buccaneers (13-14)

    TAG: @Bardan_Jusik (who I doubt will be happy) @CPL_Macja (who I imagine will be even less happy given his position on one point losses) @jcgoble3 @Jedi Gunny @Rebecca_Daniels @Runjedirun @Tim Battershell @Vehn
    Tim Battershell likes this.
  23. Bardan_Jusik Mand'alor - Manager of the EUC, SWC and Spinoffs

    Manager
    Member Since:
    Dec 14, 2009
    star 10
    IC: Jacen Hunter
    Hunter family home, outskirts of Keldabe, Mandalore

    "Yes!" Jacen's father yelled as he jumped out of his chair and pumped his fist in the air. The Rebels game had just finished off the Starkillers, and his father was exuberant at his team starting the season off 1-0. Jacen was looking forward to his Mercs joining them with a season opening victory, but his father had total dominion over the holo-set. maybe now though that his game was over, they could watch the rest of the Mercs game.

    Jacen blinked twice at his father. "Can we?" he asked meekly. "Please?" His father looked confused for a moment and then looked pointedly at the Mercs jersey that Jacen had worn for game day. He rolled his eyes at him. "Oh all right," and he changed the channel. The Mercs game, which had started only minutes before was on a commercial, that annoying one for Gundarkade. Jacen thought that stuff tasted like...well like a word his mother would have been very grumpy if he had said out loud. Luckily she was busy reading a book in his parent's bedroom at the moment.

    Jacen impatiently waited for the commercial to end. The Mercs were starting off their season playing the Hapan Bucs. That team was all girl and he had no doubts that they would be able to beat them easily. Before they had moved here, Jacen's friend Erik had assured him that all girls had something called kooties, but Jacen wasn't so sure he believed that. Still, he had done his best to not make friends with any girls, just in case. Now that he was living so far away and had no friends Jacen would have been glad for any kind of playmate, kooties or not. Still he doubted that an all girl team could defeat his mighty Mercs.

    The commercial finally ended and the coverage cut back in to a game already in progress, almost midway through the first half. Jacen couldn't believe it, his team was losing 6-1 already. "How?" he cried out. "How what?" his father asked with a smile on his face. He was just happy because the Mercs were in the same conference as the Rebels. He would love it if the Mercs lost. "How can they be losing to a bunch of girls?" Jacen explained. Clearly his dad didn't know about the kooties as he just laughed at Jacen.

    "Son, some of the best players in the League are female. Nine Hells, the best player the Mercs ever had was a woman, so you better get used to it. Besides, that team of girls just scored again." Jacen looked back tot he holo-set. Sure enough the Bucs had put another point on the board and led 7-1. By half time the Mercs had managed a small run but were still down 9-5. Jacen just didn't know what was going wrong for them. His father, ever the armchair forward explained it to him. "Their defense isn't doing bad, they are at least keeping them in the game." It seemed like he was trying to help Jacen understand. "But the offense. They have no flow between the half forwards and the full forwards. Too much standing around and waiting for the game to come to them."

    Jacen tried to, but he didn't understand what that meant. As the second half began his father continued on. "Look, their left half forward..." he squinted at the holo, "Adams. She is just standing there, waiting for the ball. No movement, no attempt to create anything. Just watching..." More squinting, "Drich? Is that his name? She just watches him do his thing." Jacen could sort of see it now, though Adams wasn't standing as still as his father had said, she certainly wasn't doing much to break away from her defender. "On the other side Soker looks like a Eopie caught in the headlights." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as Daryc passed up to Fortune who dropped it off to Arock who finally managed to score. "At least their corner forwards look good. so far," his father shrugged. "But I think if you stick with these guys you are ion for a long season. You should root for the Rebels again, those guys are winners and are going to take the league by surprise this year!"

    Jacen shook his head, he was a Mercs fan. Though as the Bucs answered with a point fo their own he started to second guess that. Luckily his father was there to harden his resolve. "You sure buddy? We're winners." Jacen just shook his head. "No dad, you'll see. We're the mighty Mercs and we are going to win it all this season!"

    They settled back down to watch the rest of the game, his father continued the play by play critique of the Mercs, but at least he wasn't trying to force Jacen into being a Rebels fan. Towards the end of the match the Mercs made another run, but they never could secure the lead. In the end they came up just short, losing by only a single point to a bunch of girls. Jacen's father started to gloat, but Jacen didn't want to hear it. Instead he went outside to play. Hopefully next week would be better.





    IC: Jacen Hunter
    Meshla Vhetin, Keldabe, Mandalore. Just prior to the home opener against the Ralltiir Starkillers

    The game hadn't even started yet and already being to a real game was better than watching the team lose on the holo. If the friendly game he and his parent had gone to had been amazing this, the home opener of the 275 season, was absolutely unbelievable. Excitement levels had been ratcheted to a level that even Jacen could feel as his family and those around them filed into the enormous stadium. Once again of course there was the variety offered by the Mandalorian fans themselves, and their won excitement was something to behold. Yelling and shouting back and forth to one another across the concourse overwhelmed Jacen's ears as his other sense were also awash in the pre-game pageantry. It was fantastic.

    The game itself had been scheduled for the early evening, and already the setting sun had dipped below the horizon. The only illumination was being provided by the massive circle of lights along the upper perimeter of the stadium. The late hour though did nothing to diminish the excitement in the air. If anything it only increased everyone's anticipation. It was as if everyone here could feel that something special was about to happen.

    Jacen himself felt better about things at the start of this game, he didn't feel as much the outsider this time around. Clad in his Mercs jersey he felt more as if he belonged here, though no one went out of their way to be friendly to him. At least he and his family were able to take to their seats without any problem. "This is great!" his father shouted to Jacen and his mother, still barely able to be heard over the background noise of millions of other beings buzzing around them. It seemed his father had forgotten for the moment that he wasn't a Mercs fan himself. Even he was getting swept away by the emotions now.

    The crowd quieted down somewhat as the PA system came to life, the booming voice coming through like a drill sergeant to his trainees. "Mando'ade, aruetiise. Before tonight's game we remember those who are fighting for the cause of Mandalorian honor and justice on the other side of the Galaxy. We now observe a moment of silence as we remember those who have fallen, and honor those who continue the fight." In an instant the buzzing din of the crowd became still as the vacuum of space, one could hear a pin drop. As the quiet continued the names of those who died fighting the Ssi-Ruuk scrolled quickly across the huge jumbo screen that dominated the space over midfield.

    Not really knowing what to do, Jacen bowed his head and did his best to stay as quiet as those around him. Glancing about he could see some Mandalorian with their helmets off, mouthing each name silently to themselves as they were displayed. It struck him suddenly that maybe some of them recognized those strange alien names that Jacen could never pronounce. He fought back tears as the
    list (mercifully a short one) came to an end.

    The PA voice came back as the noise resumed. "And now...the 275 ELL season."

    Suddenly the stadium was plunged into darkness. Jacen reached for his mother, frightened by the sudden blackout and the small explosions that could be heard popping from outside the stadium. He relaxed as they resolved themselves into fireworks that began to explode over the stadium, bathing it in multicolored light. A laser light show began flashing, adding to the effect and soon music pumped out of the PA system as the crowd roared as one.


    Overtaken by everything Jacen stood up in the aisle and began to dance. Those around him laughed, though it didn't seem mean spirited so Jacen didn't care. His mother didn't seem as amused by it though and told him to sit down. He obeyed and as he did a trio of spotlights shown up through the fireworks and light show, illuminating a craft that circled the stadium far above.

    "It's a Hammer..." came from his father. Jacen leaned in closer to better hear what he was saying. "A high/low altitude speeder that acts as a gunship and troop transport. That's my project! MandalMotors is uparmoring them, and my job is increasing engine output to maintain the thrust to weight ratio." Jacen wasn't sure what that all meant, but he liked the idea that his dad was doing something for the war. It was even cooler that something he was working on was at a Limmie game though.

    There was a collective gasp from the crowd as something...or someone...detached from the back of the circling Hammer. A flash indicated the ignition of some sort of jet from the object though and everyone followed the progress of whatever it was as it fell through the bright fireworks explosions and lasers that shone all around it. Some Mandalorians put their helmets back on and Jacen could hear one of them seated nearby saying. "It's him."

    Jacen didn't know who "he" was, but it was clear that the falling object was indeed a person, a Mandalorian in a garish sand gold and crimson color schemed armor. "It is him. He has repainted his armor. The Gold is for vengeance. I approve."

    "And the red, I doubt he is honoring his father there?" Jacen overheard another ask.

    "Probably didn't want to be so ostentatious."


    "Yeah, he is usually so discreet..."

    Jacen wasn't sure what that meant, but as the red and gold colored Mandalorian landed at midfield he had to admit to himself that he looked really cool. The crowd of course erupted as the man touched down, and the Mandalorian was eating it up. He held his arms out, outstretched to the fans as he motioned and gestured to everyone to make some noise. The crowd complied and became even louder, amplifying their voices with their helmets and clanging their armored gauntlets against their chest plates. They stomped their heavy boots on the permacrete floor. Jacen had never heard such a racket, and soon it got even louder.

    The Mandalorian at midfield removed his helmet and clipped it to his belt revealing at long last who it was, though many in the stadium had already deduced his identity. Cries rang out through the Meshla Vhetin, "Mand'alor, Mand'alor, Mand'alor!" Jacen couldn't help himself and he began to join in, not really knowing what he was shouting or why.

    "So good to be back!" the man announced which only added to the frenzy in the crowd.

    His visage was now being displayed on the jumbo holoscreen and Jacen could see him more clearly. It seemed he was truly enjoying all the attention he was garnering at this moment, the chanting still had not stopped, but his face soon became serious.

    "But let's get down to business shall we. After all we have a game to get in here too."

    His mention of the game brought another roar from the crowd, while reminding Jacen that he was in fact here to see a limmie game. In all the excitement he had forgotten all about it. The Mand'alor continued.

    "As you all know we have spent our treasure and our precious blood to right a wrong that was inflicted upon us by the Ssi-Ruuk Imperium. In order that we restore our honor, and deter our other enemies, we embarked on one of the most ambitious campaigns in recent memory. And I am here to announce here, today, that we have been successful in our effort to bring our enemies to justice."

    He paused, seeming to drink in the acclaim that now flowed his way. "Our work is far from finished, and we occupy much of their space and continue to punish them for their cowardly actions. But today, today I bring before you all, mando'ade and aruetiise alike the main target for our vengeance. I bring before you, His Potency the Grand Shreeftut" he said the strange sounding name with a sneer. Jacen didn't know who it was, but by the reactions of the crowd, they all did.

    Jacen's father gasped, he knew who it was as well. "The leader of the Ssi-Ruuk. How?..." he trailed off as the large lizard like being was led out to midfield by a squad of guards. The blue scaled being was shackled, and as the jumbo-holo image focused on it, even Jacen could see it was afraid.

    Slowly it was brought out to the Mand'alor, and as it arrived the red and gold clad man withdrew what looked like an ancient blade from a scabbard on his back, located next to his jetpack. He called out to the crowd again. "What makes the green grass grow?"

    They all answered as one, for though Jacen didn't know it, this question and its answer had been drilled into every Mandalorian at childhood. "Blood! Blood makes the green grass grow!"

    The Mand'alor smiled at the response and quickly swung his sword through the long neck of the Ssi-Ruuk leader, lopping off its head which rolled around on the pitch for a moment. "That's right. Blood makes the green grass grow. And there is plenty more where that came from."

    The crowd could barely be contained now, but Jacen couldn't see it as his eyes were suddenly covered by his mother's hands. "How barbaric" he could hear her say, glad that apparently none around them heard her. Jacen wasn't at all sure how well these bloodthirsty Mandalorians would take to being called barbarians. "Now let's play some meshgeroya!"

    The crowd began to calm down slightly, and though Jacen fidgeted to get away from his mother's grasp he failed. Finally she let go and when she did Jacen could see that the Mand'alor had gone and the mess he had left behind had been cleaned up. His mother though was pleading with his father. "Let's go, this is disgusting." Jacen cried out at that before his father could even respond. "I want to stay for the game!" That caught the notice of some of the Mandalorians seated around them. "Stay for the meshgeroya aruetii" a Orange clad Mandalorian woman said. "Maybe you will learn something." she ended with a hearty laugh.

    Jacen's father spoke up now. "The worst is over dear, we might as well stay for the game."

    Jacen's mother conceded, but she crossed her arms and didn't look at all happy with any of this. Jacen was just glad that he would get to see the Mercs play in a real game. The stadium again plunged into darkness, it was only now that Jacen realized that the lasers and fireworks had come to an end when the Mand'alor had landed. The PA came to life as did the Jumbo-Holo, showing scenes from last season along with some from the pre-season game.


    "Are you ready for meshgeroyyyyyyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!?!"

    The crowd reaction indicated that they were more than ready for this season's first home game to get under way.

    "And now, your starting lineup for the 275 Mando'ade Meeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrcs!"

    Jacen stood up as did most everyone else, trying to catch a glimpse of the players as they ran out onto the field.

    "Starting at the full forward position, from UC Belal Vistal, number 12. Andres Fortuuuuuune!" Jacen tried his best at that to out scream everyone as the player whose jersey he wore came bursting out from the tunnel and took his place on the sideline, but the announcer didn't pause for long as he announced the rest of the lineup.

    "At the corner forward position, number 87, Fu Arock!" No one appeared as the announcer kept speaking

    "At the other corner forward position, his teammate on your champion Concordia Crusaders. Number 30, Kad Mereel!"

    The pair of them ran out onto the field together, taking their places next to Fortune as the announcer went on.

    "At Center half forward, All Star reserve and number 32, Jeem Daryc!!!!!" The dark skinned humanalso ran out, his hands held high over his head clasped together as if in victory.

    "At Left half forward, from The Ord Sabaok University, number 21, Maggie Adammmmmmmmmms!" Jacen hadn't seen much of her play in the friendly game, though he knew from watching Limmie tonight that she had been a backup on this team last season. She hadn't played well against Hapes and the commentators seemed to think that the Mercs offense would amount to much this season. Jacen sure hoped they were wrong.

    "And at Right half forward, number 20. Melia Soker." Three rookie starters on offense. Besides the result from last week, Jacen now knew where that analyst had gotten the idea that they may struggle. Still the announcer continued.

    "Starting at midfield, number 7, Xander Darkriiiiider!" He was another newcomer to this team, but the crowd didn't care, they kept on cheering just as wildly.

    "At the other Midfield position, your team captain and All-Star starter, number 3, Argo Mor'kesh!" For Mor'kesh the cheer grew even louder. with the loss of most of the starting offense he had been named the team's captain and was the face of the franchise. Jacen liked him, but not as much as he liked Fortune.

    "Now, your starting half backs, the Hansoooooons!" Jett (number 96), Jace (number 69), and Steen (number 0) all ran out together to the wild cheering of the crowd. They weren't Mandalorian, but to Jacen it seemed as if the fans didn't care.

    "Anchoring the defense at the fullback position. Number 42, Kyr Ram'ser!" Jacen knew that he was one of the few players left over from the team's inception. That made Jacen wonder just how much longer he would still be with the team.

    "At corner back, your favorite enforcer and mine. Number 40, Killer K'Karlson!" The Whipid ran out and delivered a head but to Ram'ser who seemed to relish in the blow. The crowd loved it.

    "At the other corner back position, from the Citadel, Jiri Patton!" The rookie, the last one to take to the field ran up and down the line and slapped each defensive player in the face, living up to his nickname.

    "And warming up between the pipes, the starting goaltender, wearing number 2, Mij Katan!"

    Jacen, along with everyone else, continued cheering. It was well known that Katan had almost been replaced as the starter after the performance that Thorn had put in during the friendly match up. He had done fairly well last week, though not well enough to earn a win. Apparently Coach Vizsla felt it was wiser to go with the more experienced goaltender though.

    The PA announcer finished up now. "Mando'ade and Aruetiise, your 275 Mando'ade Mercs!"

    Jacen stood and clapped for them all, he couldn't wait to get this underway. It was time for some limmie!

    TAG: @Runjedirun. @Trieste if he wants the commissioner's office to comment on a public execution occurring before the start of an ELL game. [face_devil]

    OOC: The appearance of Taab was obviously inspired by scenes in the Iron Man series of movies. The use of "Monster" for player introductions was inspired by the AHL team Lake Erie Monsters who also use that song for the same purpose.

    [IMG]
    Last edited by Bardan_Jusik, Oct 20, 2013
  24. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

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


    Gark stared down his defense after they gave up point number 2 early on in the game. They seemed to be missing the fire that he knew they would need out there. They needed some encouragement, something to go right to get them into the swing of the game. The Euceron Storm were having an easy time moving the ball over these first few minutes, but the Bothan wasn’t too worried just yet. There was still time to break in these new starters on defense. He, like them, was rusty after a long offseason.


    The offense turned the ball over in their offensive zone, and the Storm brought the ball up. Jerek Deter, the star corner, shadowed his matchup, taking the switch with Ortho Dyhon to pick up one of the Storm half forwards. However, the forward changed direction while a pick was set, and Jerek found himself being blocked while trying to change direction. And then he fell to the turf, grasping his leg in major pain. The Storm, with the man down for the Senators, rocketed a shot past Jayla Leed to go up 5-0 early.

    But all eyes were on Jerek. The assistant captain yelled out in pain as he sat on the turf, and Gark came out with the training staff to check on him. From what Gark could tell, this wasn’t exactly a stinger. This looked like a major injury. Jerek was never one to let minor injuries stop him, but when he was down on the turf like this, that was a bad omen. Hamlin Trenos, the Iktochi trainer, started to ask Jerek questions, and after a minute or two, determined the injury. “We’ve got an ACL or MCL tear here. I hope the latter, but he’s done for the day, and perhaps for the season.”

    “I can play,” Jerek said through gritted teeth.


    “No you can’t,” Hamlin said. “Let’s get you off the field.”


    Gark groaned. Now his best defender was potentially out for the season. His defense looked shaky coming into the season, and now they had taken a major hit this early on in the season. When the defense huddled around him on the sideline, Gark had only one thing to say. “Don’t break,” was all he said. Reid Livingstone, the starter last season across from Jerek, was now in across from rookie Christine Gamble. Gark wanted more experience in the corner line, but he had no choice here. Rhyric Loayen was new to the team after being signed out of Free Agency, and he was likely going to be a season-long backup unless things went completely haywire.


    And haywire was what described the rest of the game. The Senator offense was shut down completely, only scoring two bar points, while the Storm ran the Senator defense ragged. Gamble was a true rookie out there, Reid was no better, and the starters all looked lost without their defensive captain. Jayla in goal had to be yanked halfway through the second half when it was obvious the game was over, and even her backup, Kapp Pyston, was hit for five points by the Storm reserves. It was a complete nightmare for Gark in his first game as defensive coordinator, one that he knew it would be difficult to live down in the coming weeks.


    Word came out later that Jerek had torn his MCL, and would be out for a while. Luckily it wasn’t an ACL tear, and he would be back Week 7 or Week 8 at the very worst. But that still left the majority of the season without the star corner back, something that could cost the Senators dearly in the coming weeks like it had this game. Gark had to hope the new players could find their rhythm soon, because otherwise this team was headed towards the abyss.






    IC: Ava Killenger


    Ava, like the rest of the Senators, was not having a good day. She fumbled multiple times after barely being hit, whiffed on an easy pass reception, and missed tackles right and left as the Senator offense ground to a halt immediately. It wasn’t like she was the only one struggling, but it hurt her already-low confidence level. Was she really cut out for this kind of game? Were the drugs starting to get to her? She needed a hit . . .

    When the game was over, Ava counted down the minutes until her next hit. She needed to escape to that drug-induced happy place to get away from the crappy result of this game and her terrible performance.


    It was going to be a long season.


    TAG: @jcgoble3
    Last edited by Jedi Gunny, Oct 20, 2013
  25. Vehn Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Sep 14, 2009
    star 4
    IC: Kaitlyn Vehn
    275 Opener, Stoney End Park, Chandrila

    When laws can stop the blades of grass from growin' as they grow
    And when the leaves in summer-time their color dare not show
    Then I will change the color too I wear in my caubeen
    But till that day, please Maker, I'll stick to the Wearin' o' the Green.


    Kaitlyn closed her eyes and whispered, “Frak.”

    The Patriot Nation was singing that damn song again. She knew it so well from all the years watching the Smugglers play in the Burgundy and Green Brawl. It was the ‘Wearing of the Green’, that song the Patriot Nation sang whenever they scored. It seemed louder than ever before as the Patriots extended their lead to 8-0, scoring several times on costly Smuggler turnovers. It seemed that Huntington and Micjaa were still working out the offense or maybe it was first day jitters by the players. Either way, this was not an acceptable start to what was a very old and hard fought rivalry. Turnovers could kill the game for the team. Fortunately, this game was non-conference but damn Vehn wanted a win and in this league, at this level, every win mattered.

    She opened her eyes and saw that Micjaa had called an early timeout. The Smugglers rushed to the sidelines for a quick meeting of the minds. That was unusual. That rarely happened. Timeouts were something to be savored for when the game was really on the line. What was going on here? Why would Tover burn a timeout so early?

    The Smugglers broke their huddle and returned to the pitch. The ball was popped back into motion and right off the bat Kaitlyn could tell that her team had found its fire. They were mad, they were infuriated, and the looks on their faces suggested they wanted to shut up the stadium and take the crowd out of the game early.

    They did.

    Shady Lerouex drove hard up field, legs pumping, ball tucked securely in one arm, dark hair flying in the wind, the burgundy stitching on the back of her jersey a blur as she dodged one Patriot defender after another. She whooped and leaped over a fallen Patriot that had been chip-blocked by McTodd. There was nobody in front of her and she was all edge now, lethal, focused, and deadly. Kaitlyn tensed as she watched the 275 draftee rear up and fire off a heater into the back of the net past the hands of Kelin Socken.

    8-3 Patriots.

    Vehn screamed in delight and pumped the air with a clenched fist.

    On the next possession, Patriots captain Avano Koobis was chugging deep into the Smugglers backfield when she was absolutely up-ended by a clothesline tackle from Zen Keisel who despite his size had fast closing speed. Koobis lay on the ground clutching her head with Keisel’s hulking form towering over her. The refs threw a penalty flag while Koobis was tended to by the Patriots medical staff. She was assisted off the field minutes later while the Smugglers defense slapped Keisel on the back and laughed. That reaction would surely draw the ire from the league, and potential fines, but Vehn didn’t care. She wanted the Patriots to suffer.

    The ensuing penalty kick was blocked by Cartel who pulled off his best Meredith Chambers impression and followed through with a remarkable deflection considering the angle of attack. Kaitlyn watched as Meredith raised her arms in the air, celebrating the failed score. So her hard work with the young goalie had paid off when it mattered.

    The game continued.

    At times, the Patriot Nation would start to sing their silly songs again only to be silenced by McTodd, Styles, Lerouex, Matsoto, and Brousard. Nothing the Patriots could do today slowed down the Smugglers offensive juggernaut and the defense that had been so heavily criticized, so heavily scoffed at by pundits and interns alike, had kept the defending Galactic Cup champions at bay. When the game finally ended, the final score reflected a sign of things to come, a sign that Chandrila was seriously hung over from winning their Cup and a glimpse at how dangerous the Smugglers squad could be this year.

    Kaitlyn stood near the team for the traditional post-game handshake. The first thing she noticed was how tired and beat up the Patriots players seemed and how much their jerseys looked the worse for wear. Much like their team captain, much like their fans, the Patriots had been taken aback in their season opener. Good, I hope this defeat will burn in their collective memory for a long time.

    The Patriots players parted for Reina Kether as she approached Kaitlyn at midfield. Today, the Cleats of Glory would be staying with Nar Shaddaa for the second consecutive year. Kaitlyn had seen the trophy up close last year when it had been handed over from the Patriot organization. There was the famous cleat worn by Tan Strensky. There was the equally famous footwear worn by Rhia Grames. Mounted together on a pedestal of bronze this particular trophy had come to symbolize all that was holy about Limmiedom. The fusion of Burgundy and Green was more than on field glory or off the field trash talk it was to eternalize the battle between legends, between gods. Those lucky few who had been alive to see Grames and Strensky play one another in their prime had been fortunate, maybe even blessed. The league would most likely never see such classic struggles again.

    “Kether,” Kaitlyn said.

    “Vehn,” Reina said. “You know I can’t congratulate you on your victory today.”

    “I know,” Kaitlyn responded, “being humiliated at home will do that to you.”

    “You know all about that don’t you?” Reina taunted.

    “I don’t know what you mean,” Kaitlyn said confused.

    “A little bird told me what happened with your husband. A shame, really, but then again I can’t blame the man, what with his wife working all the time, exiled from a position of power, commandeering a losing sports franchise on a poodoo-infested moon,”
    Reina said her lip curving upward in a knowing smile. “But between the two of us, dear, you look so much happier now that your husband has left you for his two-bit whore. That has to feel good, right?”

    Kaitlyn clenched her fists.

    “The only thing that will make me feel good right now is wiping that smile right off your face!”

    “Kaitlyn, no need to get upset with me, I’m only trying to help you. Sure, you won the game today,” Reina paused and gave Kaitlyn a light jab on her shoulder, “but let’s face the reality here. You just can’t win at everything and clearly when it came to your
    marriage, you lost.”

    “I’m sorry you’ll never know what it feels like to be a champion. Oh well, there are people born for second place as well,” she added.

    Reina Kether smiled in that way that only Reina Kether could.

    That was the last smile she would be giving for awhile as Kaitlyn brought her right fist around into Kether’s jaw for the haymaker heard around the galaxy.




    Hours Later, Team Shuttle back to Nar Shaddaa

    “Rhia Grames would be proud of you,” Tover said with a smile as he handed Kaitlyn an ice pack. “There hasn’t been a fight like that between two Limmie teams in awhile.”

    Kaitlyn nursed her swollen face with the ice pack. She’d received as good as she’d delivered. Kether had gone down clutching her broken jaw after the first punch. The Patriots had surged forward to help their downed coach and a major scuffle had ensued between the two teams. It seemed that there were some unresolved issues from the official match that still needed to be worked out.

    “I imagine the league is going to have a hell of a field day with you. Fines, suspensions, maybe expulsion from the league if you’re lucky,” Tover said.

    “Let them,” Kaitlyn replied as the shuttle reverted to real-space. “Kether had it coming.”

    The Vertical City was down below and her team had opened the season with a victory. Despite the pain coursing through her face, her bloody knuckles, she felt good inside, complete.

    Popping Kether and the Patriots had felt good.

    Real good.

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