Star Wars OPEN Elite League Limmie

--Transaction Wire—

Ralltiir Starkillers

Loma Ikell (Thakwaash, Female, Right Half Back) re-signed to two-year contract
Loren Jul (Hapen, Female, Right Corner Forward) re-signed to three-year contract
Flarn (Yuzzem, Male, Left Corner Forward) re-signed to one-year contract

@ No One

 

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



Falene looked up at the forbidding, overcast, dark gray skies that gathered over the Bakuran capital city today during a break in the pregame warm ups. A chill had settled over the city today, as if foretelling nefarious events to come. It was not exactly the most optimistic weather for the Solo Conference Championship game. Though the Gardens were decked out in blue and gold bunting for the occasion, the festive accoutrements didn’t liven things up much.

As Falene ran through the standard drills to get the team into the groove before the game, she was peripherally aware of the fact that the stands were filling earlier than usual. The Miners hadn’t been home for three straight games after their Solo Conference road odyssey. The fact that the trip had put them over the top and to a Commissioner’s Trophy, which would be presented today before the game, was something that Falene had already pushed through to her mind. Nothing mattered but the game that was coming up before them.

It did not matter that the C-Bucs had, earlier this season in this very arena, smugly dismantled the Miners by a score of 21-3 in the midst of their memorial to Anton Jorpik. Then they had thought he had selflessly given his life by throwing himself on a grenade for his squadmates. Since then it had been publicized, largely by Falene’s sister in-law-to-be Ayn Dormingale, that Jorpik had simply been killed in the line of duty by a speeder bomb. The Prime Minister and Marian Square had still failed to give a satisfactory answer as to why a false story had been given to the public, but it had not helped the image of the war at all.

And now that war was winding down. Though the Bakuran Senate had yet to ratify the peace accords negotiated by Falene’s mother, troops were coming home. Thank the Force for that.

There was no mirth in the Gardens today—just a restless anticipation for the game to come. Everyone knew that the Miners had never won a home Galactic Cup Semifinal, now replaced by the Conference Championships, in either the Crendan Era or the Kayl’hen Era. Since the institution of the Commissioner’s Trophy in 246 ABY, they had never lifted that trophy and gone onto the Galactic Cup Final. Falene didn’t want to let a fact like that bother her, but it did. Try as she might to keep it out of her mind, it kept coming back again and again.

Their warm up completed, the Miners headed back to their locker room for final pregame strategy and thoughts from Valerii. They left the field to warm applause from the Miner fans, who were not just inside the stadium, but clogging the plazas around the Gardens to watch on giant vidscreens. Even if they couldn’t get tickets, these beings had to be part of this event. Watching at home on HSN was not going to cut it. They had to be here.

“All right, gather up,” Valerii said as she came into the locker room, “Let’s deal with the bantha in the locker room. We’re playing against history here. We all know that.

“But history does not define us,” Valerii said, “The Commissioner’s Trophy does not define us. What defines us, what defines who we are, is how we play today. The C-Bucs only define us if we let them.

“We have worked hard to get to this point,” Valerii continued, “and for those of you who have never been here, which is a fair number of you, know this: it only gets harder. More will be asked of you today than has ever been asked of you before. Some of you have played before an entire galaxy before—” Gaeriel looked at Falene, who knew that the reference was to her playing in the 272 college galactic championship, “—but today you are going to learn that everything is different here. Today we play for the privilege of being in the same stadium as the holiest trophy in the entire galaxy.

“Anyone who thinks what is about to come will be easy is deluding themselves. Moira Mallory knows this won’t be easy. She knows what I know—that you are not the same team that played here in Week 5. You have been forged in fire since then. You have become a feared foe. The C-Bucs are sitting in their locker room wondering what we’re going to do to them. The truth is that they are scared because they know this time won’t be the same. That fear is going to last ten minutes, tops. Maybe only five—but only if you don’t put the fear of the Force into them with the way you play. We come out flying and this game is going to be ours.

“Now—”

“Excuse me,” Han Tunross said, poking his head into the locker room.

Valerii turned on him with death ray eyes. “Not now,” she said.

“I know this is not the best moment, but you really should turn on the field cam,” Han said, “Right now.”

Valerii furrowed her brow and stood still for a second before she did so. What Falene saw blew her away.

Sheets of driving rain were coming down. The gray skies had opened up with a deluge that seemed better suited to Kamino than Bakura.

“What the frak,” Valerii said, “The heavy stuff was due at the end of the game.”

“Well, apparently the forecasters were wrong. Temperature’s reading at slightly above freezing right now,” Tunross said, “We need to get everyone resuited up.”

“You heard the doctor!” Valerii called to the team, turning, “Do what you need to do to get ready for conditions!”

The locker room turned into a flurry of short cleats being changed for long cleats, long sleeved thermal shirts going on under jerseys, gloves going onto hands, double socks onto feet, and any other preparations that each player felt that they needed.

“It’s a kriffing monsoon out there!” Alesh said.

“And the Bucs have to play in it too,” Alana pointed out quickly, “Remember that.”

The team was barely ready to make their entrance time onto the field. The moment that Falene stepped out of the tunnel, she was immediately pelted with hard, fat drops of rain that came like blaster rifle fire. The fans, who had been bundled against the temperatures, had made whatever ramshackle protection against the rain that they could if they were so unlucky as to have seats in the uncovered portion of the stadium. Within half a minute Falene’s dark blue Miner jersey was even darker blue it completely soaked up the rain. The only upside that Falene could think of was that by the time the game started at least her uniform would be as heavy with rain as it was going to get.

The pregame ceremonies concluded with Esther Gondorf presenting Alana with the Commissioner’s Trophy. Unlike their last meeting, Alana graciously accepted the trophy to the delight of the fans before she waved the Miners over for a team picture with the trophy and Gondorf. Everyone (especially the League lawyer) must have looked like a bunch of wet Cathar in the photo given the way the rain had already drenched them all.

When they broke, Alana carried the Commissioner’s Trophy back to the bench. “Why’d you take it this year?” Rodders asked.

“Not taking it didn’t do us much good the last time around,” Alana said, “Besides, it made Gondorf stand in the rain longer, which was worth it for that alone.” Her smile at that was brighter than the limp blue and gold ribbons in her hair, her playoff trademark not looking quite so festive as it usually did.

Valerii gathered them together. “Okay, we didn’t have time in there for last thoughts,” Gaeriel shouted to her team in their huddle, her voice only barely carrying over the splash of rainfall. The head coach had quickly bundled up in a trenchcoat and grabbed a cap for her head to try to keep the rain out of her eyes. “Look, Montes was outstanding on goal. We’ve got to move her side-to-side today. We’re not going to get anywhere head on with her. That’s just a fact. Front six know what to do?” The offense nodded their head. “Red, Pic, I need you two to go with the flow today and just read it. Take your chances and load the box when you can Red, but I need you getting back on D too. The less time they’re in our zone the better.”

Then Gaeriel looked right at Falene. “Fae, this begins and ends with Lin,” Valerii said, “If she gets in her groove, then that offense is going to get going and we can’t have that today. I need you to take her out of this game. Being-to-being coverage on her all day. You got that?”

“I do,” Falene called back.

“Everybody, everybody,” Gaeriel said, with one last thought to impart, “You are never going to forget playing in this game—ever. Make it for the right reason. Let’s go!”

Falene Trieste took up her starting position for her first Galactic Cup Playoff game ever. It was time to find out what she was made of when it really mattered.

TAG: None

 

GM Post
Press briefing room, Elite League offices, Coruscant

"Gentlebeings, gentlebeins, if we could please get down to it, I have to be on a shuttle to Bakura soon to present the Commissioner's Trophy to the Miners and award the Solo Conference Championship Trophy," Esther Gondorf said, trying to quiet the room.

"Esther, don't you mean 'attempt to present the Commissioner's Trophy to the Miners'?" a cheeky Bith reporter asked. That got a chuckle out of everyone as they remembered 273 when Alana Glencross had adamantly refused to touch the Commissioner's Trophy, leaving a very awkward Gondorf to stand there with it.

"Har har har," Gondorf said, "Laugh it up, fuzzball."

"Actually, Bith don't have any hair--" the reporter started.

"It's a figure of speech!" Gondorf said with exasperation, "Can I just get to why we're all here?" She was met with more or less silence. "Thank you.

"In the Solo Conference Semifinal playoff game earlier this week, Doo'sun, a member of the Senators, headbutted Giacinta Johnson of the Buccaneers. As you can see from the footage here--" the vidscreen to Gondorf's left came on, "--Mr. Doo'sun and Johnson were exchanging words with the play well away from them. At this point, Mr. Doo'sun lowers his head and hits Johnson with his head squarely in the chin and upper chest. This hit was not made in the course of play and is clearly unsportsmanlike. Furthermore, as evidenced in the footage here--" which replayed the pertinent section for the media, "--Mr. Doo'sun made contact with Miss Johnson's head with his own. This hit clearly meets the criteria for targeting defined by the League and enforced earlier this season on Zen Keisel. As a result, the League is suspending Mr. Doo'sun one game with forfeiture of pay, to be served whenever Mr. Doo'sun is active for his next Elite League game, which will go to the Player Safety Fund as is standard.

"Thank you."

TAG: Jedi Gunny

 

IC: Tendra Nalo
Location: Midfield at the GCAA Division I Galactic Championship Game
Time: Halftime

The cameraman indicated that they were live, and Tendra put on her best smile as Clerrin Kanraa of HSN began the segment. "Thank you, Tafo. With me here at midfield is the number three high school prospect in the nation, Tendra Nalo of Euceron. Now, if that last name rings a bell in your mind, that's because she is the daughter of Limmie Hall of Fame member Marte Nalo, who is also with us tonight. Tendra, Marte, how are you doing?"

"Great," Tendra said with confidence. Marte echoed the same.

"Marte, let's start with you, because if I recall correctly, you did exactly what Tendra is doing right now, what, thirty-five years ago?"

"Thirty-four," corrected Marte. "I sat at midfield at the Carnation Bowl at halftime and made my college choice live on HSN. I did not make a decision until seconds before I signed the letter of intent, and let me tell you, I have never felt as much pressure during a limmie game as I felt during that live segment. Tendra here told me last night that she's made up her mind already, so that's good and hopefully will take the pressure off of her. That said, I don't know what the decision is, so I look forward to finding out."

"As do we. Tendra, let's go to you now. You listed your top 5 colleges as... let me see here... in no particular order, Ord Saboak, UBSD, Agamar, Denon, and Enarch Tech. Let's look at them in that order. First, what did you like about OSU?"

"Well," said Tendra, "they have a wide variety of courses, and definitely friendly students. When I went there for a visit, I was just walking around and a group of students invited me into a pickup game without even knowing who I was or that I wasn't even a student there."

"That sounds really friendly. Anything in particular that turns you off there?"

"Not really. If I had to pick something, it would be the sheer size of the place. I could easily get lost on that campus."

Clerrin chuckled. "Sounds like a fine option. What about UBSD? Pros? Cons?"

"Well, they're really good right now, which is a plus because it means I could potentially be right back here fighting for the championship. The problem is that they've got a really good full forward right now and a top backup waiting in the wings, so it would be a couple of years before I'd have a realistic chance of starting. I wasn't impressed with the choice of majors either."

"Okay. Agamar, same question."

"Again, they're good now, and I'd likely only have to wait a year to start. But it's really kind of a backwater planet, and I don't really know why anyone would want to live there. It's certainly not very appealing to me."

"Denon."

"Pretty much the same as UBSD, except I like the variety of courses more."

"And last but not least, perhaps the most interesting choice on your shortlist, Enarch Tech." Loud cheers went up from the Enarch fans in attendance. "What did you like and not like about them?"

"Well, as with UBSD and Denon, they're good right now, and they need a replacement for their Helmsman nominee Gary Zonka, who's a senior this year, so I would probably be able to start almost immediately. I like the campus, the course choices, the environment, and it really seems like it would be a great fit for me."

Another round of cheers went up from the crowd as Clerrin responded. "Is there anything you didn't like about them?"

"Honestly? Not that I can think of."

"Alright then. We've done enough talking. It's time to make your choice." Clerrin laid five pieces of flimsi in front of Tendra, one for each college, as a chant of "Enarch! Enarch!" started in the crowd and grew louder. "Pick one and sign it."

Spoiler

"No."

The crowd instantly fell silent as Clerrin tried to figure out how to respond. Finally he just asked, "What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I don't want to go to college right now."

"Then, what? Are you going pro? You would be the youngest player ever to play in the Premier or Elite Leagues."

"Again, no."

Clerrin sat there with a dumbfounded look on his face. "Then what are you going to do, and why?"

"Well, let's take those in reverse order. I'm just not ready to continue my education right now. I want a break from the classroom, and I want to get my degree at my own pace. Being a student-athlete would require me to carry a full class load, which I don't want to do. As for going pro, I don't feel as though I'm ready for that, being only sixteen years old, and I need some more time to develop my skills."

"But doesn't that require going to college?"

"No. There is a third option here. A lot of people know everything about my father here, but most people don't know that my mother is full-blooded Hapan. They met in 254 at a Storm game on Hapes, the year after the C-Bucs were demoted to the Premier League. Since Hapan society is matriarchal, that makes me Hapan also. I have received an invitation to play for the Shedu Maad Knights of the Hapes Consortium Juniors League, and I am going to accept it. I believe the Consortium Juniors will be a great place to refine my skills and prepare to go pro, and I look forward to playing for Euceron in a few years."

"That is an... interesting choice. The Hapes Consortium Juniors League. I didn't see that one coming. Well, I wish you the best of luck in the rest of your career, and thank you for coming out tonight, even if we didn't get what we were looking for out of you."

"Thank you too for giving me this opportunity."

TAG: Trieste and Bardan_Jusik since I mentioned their pet colleges, and Tim Battershell since I kinda dissed his planet

 

GM Post

A friendly reminder that tomorrow is the deadline for 275 season award votes to come into me. Winners will be announced on New Year's Day.

--Player Transction Wire--
Coruscant Senators

• Receive Sorcha Styles (Bothan, Female, Full Forward) from Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
• Receive Arkan Matsoto (Twi'lek, Male, Center Half Forward) from Nar Shaddaa Smugglers

Nar Shaddaa Smugglers

• Receive Jayla Leed (Human, Female, Goalkeeper) from Coruscant Senators

TAG: Jedi Gunny Vehn

 

GM Post

In real life, the conference championships are my favorite NFL games. By the transitive property, this week is my favorite week of ELL games. Bonus rolls to Bakura and Euceron. Banked bonus rolls to Coruscant, Mando'ade, Nar Shaddaa, and Ralltiir.

Conference Finals
(2) Euceron Storm at (1) Corellia Rebels (29-34)
(2) Hapes Consortium Buccaneers at (1) Bakura Miners (19-29)

120th Galactic Cup Finals
Six Boroughs Stadium, Nar Shaddaa
(1) Corellia Rebels at (1) Bakura Miners

TAG: jcgoble3

 

Sub-GM Post

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

Limmie Futures League
Consolation Semifinals
(8) Kamino Waves at (5) Byblos Red Wings (9–15)
(7) Druckenwell Marksmen at (6) Tatooine Sandskimmers (25–8)
Futures Cup Semifinals
(4) Commenor Gundarks at (1) Thyferra Force (16–13)
(3) Kashyyyk Rangers at (2) Concordia Crusaders (1–23)

Championship Week
Seventh Place Game
(8) Kamino Waves at (6) Tatooine Sandskimmers
Fifth Place Game
(7) Druckenwell Marksmen at (5) Byblos Red Wings
Third Place Game
(3) Kashyyyk Rangers at (1) Thyferra Force
Futures Cup Final, presented by Gundarkade
Six Boroughs Stadium, Nar Shaddaa
(4) Commenor Gundarks vs. (2) Concordia Crusaders

GM Note: Reminder that Championship Week scores will be posted on Saturday, not Sunday. I will try to give a few hours' warning in OOB before I roll scores.

TAG: Bardan_Jusik Vehn Runjedirun Rebecca_Daniels Jedi Gunny CPL_Macja

 

IC: Jacen Hunter
Outside the Hunter family household

"whoa..." Jacen muttered softly, finally opening his eyes again. Things were still blurry, but he realized he was lying on the dirt in his yard and that not much time had passed. It was still light out after all. Something came into his field of view, a familiar shape, but one he wasn't used to seeing so close up. It was a rounded helmet, with a rangefinder on the right hand side.

The faceplate made it immediately recognizable with its T-shaped vision slit. It was clearly a Mandalorian looking sown on him, but he didn't know who would have used that particular gray and purple design. It did seem somehow familiar to him though.

"Oh good, I didn't kill you," came a female's voice from under the helmet. Jacen was still dizzy, but the voice seemed familiar as well. "Wha....what happened?"

The girl shrugged. "I knew your were soft aruetii (outsider, foreigner). I didn't know you were that soft." The way she said that word, the one his dad had said meant friend was very familiar to Jacen. A young Mandalorian woman had said it to him just that way before his first game he ever saw live, the preseason friendly against the Patriots. She had been rude and shoved him out of the way and now as his head cleared slightly he saw that this was in fact the same girl. He wasn't sure if she recognized him or not, but as he sat up she continued on anyway.

"My buire (parents) wanted me out of the house. I saw you standing around doing nothing and thought you could use a good thump." Jacen crinkled his brow at that. She just saw him minding his own business and decided to tackle him? That was...insane. "You need to work on your situational awareness aruetii, I was able to sneak up on you with no trouble before tackling you. It was kind of
pathetic."

"Wha....Why? It jus...." Jacen managed before slowly shaking his head. She shrugged again. "I was bored, and you were there." Jacen was still sitting in the dirt at this point, looking up at the girl, still not quite sure what had happened. "You were only out for a minute or two, your parents don't even know that I hit you." His parents! Jacen stood up now, still a tad woozy, but at least the world didn't spin around him. "I have to let them know I'm OK." He started to the house but was stopped as she grabbed his arm.

"You don't want to do that." He tried to shake her off but she held firm. "When you were knocked out I snuck into your house to tell them. They were....busy. So I left them alone and came back out here." Jacen didn't understand what that meant and tried again to pull away, successfully this time as she released his arm.

"The good news is that you might have a little brother or sister in nine months." Understanding now dawned on Jacen and he blushed a bright red. "Is that why they sent you out here, I never see you out here..." she trailed off as though she realized she had said something she shouldn't have. "Have you been watching me?" She shook her armored head, "No," she said a little too quickly. "I...uh. I just know my surroundings and don't see you outside much." She glanced back over her shoulder now. "I live on the next homestead over..."

Jacen started dusting himself off now. It was odd for him to see this girl somewhat uncomfortable, it made her seem far less like a miniature bringer of death and more like a kid, like himself. He tried to change the subject. "I really came out here because with the Mercs season over I had nothing to watch on the holo..."

She looked back at him through her T-Visor and cocked her head to one side at that. "You are a Mercs fan?" He nodded. "But you're an aruetii, you should like some other meshgeroya team." Now it was his turn to shrug. "You sound like my Dad, he's a Rebels fan, but I like the Mercs. Do you like meshga... Mersh." he gave up. "Do you like Limmie too?"

She chuckled, Jacen thought it sounded rather pleasant. "Meshgeroya, and yes. Yes I do. It's a way of life around here." She sat down now cross legged on the dirt. "My parents are at the Crusaders game...they could only get two tickets though. So they locked the rest of us out of the house while they went to Concordia."

Jacen sat down next to her. "Why did they kick you out?" he asked, bewildered. "To see if we could make it on our own," she replied, disgusted that he didn't seem to know that without being told. "I could break back in, but they would know. So I will camp out here somewhere until they get back. At least I will get to watch the game."

She had confused him yet again, to Jacen it seemed as if she was making a habit of that. "How?" Jacen could almost hear her rolling her eyes at him from behind her faceplate. She tapped at her helmet. "With this di'kut (idiot)." She reached underneath it and unsealed it with a slight hiss. "Here, let me show you." Slowly she lifted the helmet off her head revealing a young girl's face. Jacen was stunned to see that she looked to be even younger than he was, maybe eight years old or so. She placed the helmet on his head and he was overwhelmed by all that he saw.

Immediately after covering his face Jacen was dizzy again. The view was like nothing he had ever seen before, it was warped and almost fish-eyed as he realized that he could not only see in front of him, but behind himself as well. He grabbed at the side of the helmet and lifted it back off his head, his eyes watering. "shab, I should have realized." She took it from him and put it back on. "I'm resetting the interface, and putting it on the right holo-channel for us. We can watch the game together." Taking the helmet back off she gave it back to him. "Try it now."

He took it from her apprehensively, but she had been true to her word. The display now seemed much more normal. He could only see in front of him, though that view was actually dominated by a projection of the HSN broadcast for the Crusader's game on the Heads Up Display. "Wizard!" he shouted out, his voice somewhat muffled by the Mandalorian helmet.

"meh, I guess so. You get used to it." she replied. But Jacen wasn't listening, the game was starting and he was trying to concentrate on what he saw and heard.

"Rawr, errh grrrrgh Rawr!" came through the bucket's speakers. He ripped it off his head again, and the girl could hear what he had. It was her turn to blush now. "Sorry, I must have tuned into the Wookiee feed." A few adjustments later and the sound resolved itself to a Mandalorian speaking in heavily accented basic.

From then on out they watched the game in silence. Taking turns wearing her bucket for five minutes at a time they were both able to watch portions of the game. It was a fantastic match for the Crusaders, Kendal was a dominant force up front, and the swarming defense was shutting out the Rangers at halftime. It was amazing, and it looked as though the Crusaders were well on their way to Nar Shaddaa to defend their LFL title.

When the halftime show started Jacen's new friend put her helmet down on the ground and pulled out a packet of some sort along with a small knife. The paper wrapped...whatever it was...had a strong pungent odor, almost like fish. She carved off a piece and popped it into her mouth chweing on it. It made Jacen realize how hungry he was, but he didn't want to go inside and leave his new....friend (?) alone. She saw him watching her and smiled, handing him the knife and parcel. "gihaal (fish meal), it's good for you."

He sniffed at it suspiciously before carving off a small slice of his own. It really wasn't that bad, but tasted about how it smelled. Still it helped cure his hunger pangs, and they passed the gihaal back and forth to each other as they had her helmet. When the game resumed, she put the parcel away and without a word they started watching again. The second half went much the same as the first, though the Rangers did manage to get on the board midway through. But by that time the Crusader's victory was all but assured. When the final gun sounded the Crusaders were headed back to the title game.

Jacen was happy for that, but saddened as he handed the girl back her helmet. He had enjoyed spending time with her. She accepted it back with a simple nod and placed it back on.. She started to leave, though just where she was heading Jacen wasn't sure. But she stopped and spun around. "I'm Ris'kah." she announced loudly. "I'm Jacen," he replied holding out his hand in a gesture of friendship. She ignored it though and instead walked off before calling back to him.

"See ya around Jacen..."

TAG: No one.

OOC: Yes Ris'kah's armor is inspired by Becca's current avatar.

 

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

The game had started badly for the Miners. Mallory had come out guns blazing and overloaded the offensive zone, constantly dropping Ryder low to put seven low. The Miners adjusted by dropping Pic with Ryder every time the Hapan went low. The big, tall, strong Pic had trouble with the former Miner draft pick. Usually Valerii lined Glencross up with Ryder, but Pic was the defensive specialist in the Miners’ midfield pair. Though it was a skill mismatch, Valerii was sticking with Pic dropping down with Ryder.

It was 7-0 early in the first half, Bucs up on the Miners, when Valerii called her first time out.

“Hey hey hey,” Valerii said as the team huddled up, “Let’s take a breath here. We’ve seen this scheme before. This is exactly what they did to us in Week 5. They’re running straight up the middle of the field. We practiced against this all week long. We’ve got this, okay? Jolla, we’ve got this, right?”

“Yeah,” Jolla said, nodding her head, water splashing off her head.

“Jolla, do you have this?” Valerii pressed again.

“Yeah, I got this!” Jolla yelled back.

“Good!” Valerii said, “Falene, they’re doing exactly what they thought we would—they’re running the entire offense through Lin. You’ve got to shut her down. Can you do that?”

“I can do it,” Falene replied.

“Are you going to do it?” Valerii shouted.

“I’m gonna do it,” Falene replied.

“Now let’s do it and get that ball up the field so we can do our thing!” Valerii yelled, clapping her hands.

Play started up again with a free kick by the C-Bucs from midfield. And, of course, it was coming straight for Lin. Falene came forward to get in front of the pass. It was a dangerous move—if she misjudged this, Lin was going to have open field in front of her. But this was the Solo Conference Championship—it was not a time for the meek.

Falene jumped, knowing that Lin wasn’t too much taller than she was. She put her hands up, and came down with the ball. Lin immediately wrapped her up, but Falene had her arms free. Lin tried to punch the ball out from Falene’s hands, but Trieste didn’t intend to let the Hapan have much of a shot at the ball. She saw Ponie streaking, having successfully broken free of her forward and Falene got a firm pass out to her on the run and from there it was two quick passes into the hands of Rodders and past Montes.

The Miners were on the board and the fans back in the game. Falene gave a little first pump.

“Here we go,” Falene said.

---

The rain continued throughout the first half before settling into a drizzle. By then it was too late—the field was a mush of mud and grass. The pitch was a total wreck at the Gardens—but everything else was beautiful.

Ever since the 7-0 start, the Miners had ripped off 22 points and hadn’t stopped piling them up while the Buccaneers offense hadn’t been able to keep up the pace. It had been Rodders and Stormborn down low doing their thing assisted by Deenever cleaning up in the top for the long ball to keep Montes off balance. Just as Valerii had told the offense, they’d passed across the field throughout the game when working the offensive zone, which had forced Montes to move side-to-side and left huge holes in her motion for the Miners to put the ball through.

“Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” Alana kept shouting at midfield, “Finish strong!”

Falene had been playing strong ever since she’d picked off the pass to Lin. Since then the veteran half forward’s touches had been extremely limited. Mallory had realized this and had adjusted the Buccaneer attack to the outsides. They were having some success against Ponie, but almost none against Wizmark. That had meant that the Buccaneers were resorting to deep passes into the zone, which were dangerous and more often than not received by Miners. When the Mastersons could get their hands on the ball, they had some success but without Johnson, sidelined by the hit in the Coruscant game, they found themselves all too often without much choice to move Comstock around other than long passes across the field. More often than not they had to settle for a bar point under defensive pressure. They were points on the board, but they weren’t the goals that the Miners were scoring.

Falene thought about nothing other than stopping Lin. That was her sole mission. She’d harassed her opposite number and all game and though her legs burned and her lungs were aching she wasn’t going to give up now—not at 22-19. Not with victory in sight.

Grap had wrestled the ball away from one of the Mastersons and was charging up field to look for someone to pass to. Falene instinctively broke away from Lin. She knew this was the moment to press.

“MAX! MAX!” she shouted.

The Devaronian heard her and put a long and high pass come her way. If Falene kept running she was going to catch it on the run and then they’d be off to the races.

Lin jumped up and tipped the ball with her finger, trying for the interception. Falene slid to a stop, her cleats shredding through grass and mud. The bolo-ball went beyond Lin and was going to come down just out of her reach. She jumped forward and put both hands on the ball. Her momentum was starting to put her into a roll. Falene pulled the ball in and tucked her legs as she spun in midair past Lin, who was still moving forward. With absolutely no idea where the ground was as she rotated, Falene extended her legs back out…

…and landed on her feet, facing the Miner goal. Falene turned and ran up the field, somewhat aware of the roar of the crowd at such a play. Her eyes were focused on scanning the field. She saw a wide open Jolla, who had an arm up, calling for the ball. Falene sent a low, hard kick forward to Pic, who took the ball right in the gut and held on. She turned and headed up the field. Jolla hurled the ball overhand to Deenever, who had inside positioning on Havelock. Deenever turned and surveyed the field. She pumped to Detra, which moved the entire Buccaneers field to that side of the field—but held onto the ball.

Then Niskat did something she’d never seen before. She tossed the ball up in the air and ducked. In a sudden blur, Glencross came up from behind Deenever from nowhere and jumped over the half forward. With both captain and bolo-ball in midair, Glencross kicked a rocket up the middle of the field and past a bewildered Montes.

25-19, Miners.

It was then that the home crowd began to believe.

---

It was an all-out push by the Buccaneers now. Mallory had apparently studied the Valerii playbook and had brought out the 15 player push. The Hapans dropped everyone—the midfield, the defense, even the goalkeeper. The Miners reverted to being-to-being coverage. It was dangerous—if someone got loose there was no one to help, but it was the only way for them to make sure no one was completely uncovered in the chaos.

Everyone seemed to be shouting, calling out players, calling for the ball. Falene couldn’t make sense of any of it, but she didn’t have to. All she had to do was keep her eyes fixed on Lin. That was her player and she would be damned if Lin was going to get away from her. The two were much lower in the zone than they usually played thanks to the overstacked Buccaneer attack. As Ryder looked for someone to pass to, Falene made sure that it wasn’t going to be Lin.

It wasn’t. She went for di Vicenzo, who had Ponie’s side of the field. It had been where the Bucs had found the most success over the course of the game so it was only natural. This time Ponie was ready for it and with a dive she deflected the ball away from the Bucs and towards the middle of the field. Falene broke away from Lin and caught the ball. She had only one instinct—go the other way with it.

After all, there was no goalkeeper in the Hapes end.

Then again, there were nine Buccaneers between her and the goal.

Falene cut left, letting Goodnight sail through the air to the grass. She kept going and found herself face-to-face with Ryder. Falene went right and Ryder followed—until Glencross came flying in and shouldered her opposite number out of the way with a stunning block. With open field in front of her, Falene knew that if she could just break through the next line of players she would have a wide open goal for icing on the cake.

And that was when the buzzer sounded.

All of a sudden, that didn’t matter—the Miners had won the Solo Conference. They were going to the Galactic Cup Final.

Falene tossed the ball up into the air and yelled in delight. She was immediately crushed in a giant hug by Niskat, who was screaming in joy herself. With blaster rifle-like rapidity, one Miner after another slammed into them as a giant mass of Miners grew in celebration. From every side of the pitch, Miner fans, who had waited over 30 years to send their team to the Galactic Cup Final in person, spilled onto the field. Salis D’aar PD formed what kind of a perimeter they could—but it only encompassed a small part of the field. The Bakuran fans were too great in number to be kept to the outskirts of the pitch. They had hungered for this moment and they were finally going to get it.

In the knot of Miners at midfield, there were no words. Most of the team that had won the Cup in 271 was gone so this was unadulterated joy for them. Even the ones who remained from that championship team were besides themselves with joy. They had experienced the pain of winning the Commissioner’s Trophy, fighting hard all year, only to lose when it mattered the most. This time, they had won when the chips were down, when the game was big.

By the time the Miners had untangled themselves, Falene found that inside the pocket of protection created by SDPD there were a fair amount of Senatorial Guard who were close by Falene. No doubt this was not exactly the most comfortable scenario for them. In fact, Falene was a bit surprised that they hadn’t hustled her off the field. She knew they could have done it, but she was glad that she was going to have this moment.

“Gentlebeings, please welcome back to the field Elite League General Counsel Esther Gondorf for the presentation of the Solo Conference Championship Trophy,” the public address announcer said.

The home crowd roared and Gondorf returned to the pitch, inside the cordon established by SDPD, carrying the Solo Conference trophy. A Bith in an Elite League blazer followed with a table, upon which the trophy was set.

“Let’s congratulate the Hapes Consortium Buccaneers on an excellent season,” Gondorf said into the microphone, receiving a smattering of polite applause, “And now, to accept the Solo Conference Championship Trophy, captain Alana Glencross.”

“Come on, everybody over here!” Alana called and the team, wet, ragged, and tired—but all smiles—came over to the table. The question was whether Glencross would touch the Solo Conference trophy. Four years ago she hadn’t and the team had won the Cup. Then again, she’d taken the Commissioner’s Trophy at the start of the game.

“Hand it over,” Alana said, to the attorney.

“With pleasure,” Gondorf said, posing with the captain with both of their hands on the trophy, the Miners arrayed behind them and the crowd cheering. When the holos had been taken, Gondorf shook Alana’s hand. “Best of luck.”

Falene missed the reply, but a couple seconds later, Alana hoisted the Solo Conference trophy high and the Miner fans cheered. Sports players were a superstitious bunch, but Trieste knew that taking the trophy was not about superstition. It was about honoring the fans that had gone through so much to see this day in person, to see their team off to the Galactic Cup Final. That alone made it worth it.

“And we’re not stopping here!” Alana shouted.

Not if Falene and her team had anything to say about it.

They were going to Nar Shaddaa, to the building that they had opened up. It was only fitting that everything should end there.

---

Trieste box, Bakura Gardens, Salis D’aar, Bakura

The entire Noble House had come out for the game (including a very petulant Nessa and Elfie Trieste who were still sore over the Miners knocking out their Patriots. Even more unhappy was Chume’da Sierra, her husband Trellam, and her mother in-law Irsine Chume, Queen Mother of Hapes, who was not too happily wearing the blue and gold miner’s helmet that constituted “the usual bet” between the owner of the Miners and the Queen Mother.

As the Triestes smiled and shook hands with each other over finally getting over the Commissioner’s Trophy hangover, Kerry discreetly signaled to her secretary, the Ithorian Saldor Kaan. She quickly wrote something out a piece of flimsi, which she folded in half. “Send this along forthwith, if you please,” Kerry requested.

The Ithorian nodded silently and saw to it.

---

Smuggler offices, Nar Shaddaa

That piece of flimsi arrived in an envelope at the Smuggler offices, addressed to Kaitlyn Vehn, Chairwoman of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers. If opened, it read:

Dear Kaitlyn,

It would be improper for me to occupy your box at the Galactic Cup Final without extending an invitation for you to join me and the entire Noble House for the day. Your presence will greatly increase my enjoyment of the day.

Sincerely,

Kerry

TAG: Vehn

 

GM Post

276 Friendly Schedule
January 19, 2014
Kuat Triforce at Ralltiir Starkillers

TAG: Runjedirun

 

GM Post

276 Friendly Schedule
January 12, 2014
Ralltiir Starkillers at Concordia Crusaders
January 19, 2014
Kuat Triforce at Ralltiir Starkillers

TAG: Runjedirun

 

IC: Gark S’rily
Coruscant Team HQ, Office

“Do you know why you’re here?” Gark asked in as unemotional a tone as he could muster.

“You’re here to cut me loose,” Alysha Romax, the Hapan captain and midfielder said from her seat across the desk from the Bothan. “I have one year left on my contract . . . don’t think I don’t have all of this analyzed.”

“And why would I want to do something stupid like that?” Gark asked.

“Because you don’t want me as a distraction anymore. I’ve said my piece, so just let me go somewhere else and continue my career,” the Hapan said without flinching. “I don’t care if you cut me, trade me, waivers, whatever. All I know is that I am likely done here, no matter what I have to say to the contrary.”

“Again, why would I want to do something like that?” Gark insisted.

“What are you talking about?” Alysha finally asked.

“Alysha, I’m sitting here with one of the best midfielders I’ve fielded on this team since I was installed as GM back in ’62,” Gark said. “That’s quite an honor, really, given that there has been a lot of turnover at the position compared to the others over the years. I brought you in as a forward, if you recall . . .”

“Probably should’ve stayed there . . .” Alysha said.

“But you filled in at midfielder in . . . what . . . ’67? But my point still stands. Since then, you’ve been the best midfielder I’ve had on the team. And I’m not exactly willing to give you up for nothing so that you can wreck us in years to come with a chip on your shoulder. You agreed to sign with us not just because Adanna and Allie gave you the best sales pitch . . . but because no one else wanted you. The C-Bucs weren’t interested, nor were anyone else, when you graduated. We came along, offered you a contract. You toiled it out for a little while, then got your big break. And now I sit across from you as you want to give that all up here on Coruscant, go elsewhere and perhaps fare as well as you are here. However, I have something that might change your mind.”

“What could possibly do that? You know that I’ve frakked it up good here,” Alysha retorted.

“Look, Alysha, there’s a trend in this league nowadays,” Gark said after a slight pause. “The League as it existed back when you entered in ’67 isn’t the way things go anymore. Veterans who leave their teams for greener pastures often find themselves in far inferior surroundings, or unemployed altogether. The Draft has seen personally to that, as teams seem more interested in finding new blood that may or may not pan out but are locked into long-term contracts rather than spend more money on what I would consider a safer bet on a long-time veteran on a more lucrative, yet shorter, contract. Now, recent history seems to prove me correct. The Miners always seem to grab new players from the Draft. How do you think they’ve won so many games this year? They certainly didn’t sign a veteran goalie. Instead, the draft filled that hole. The Mercs? Don’t want to trade for players, as last year’s Draft has also shown. The Smugglers have been building through the Draft quite a bit recently, because Vehn is determined to use these picks to fuel the next run at a dynasty. The Monarchs? Always trading players in exchange for draft picks, and stashing whatever veterans they can find down into the Futures League, of all places. The irony of that, Alysha. Getting signed as a veteran just to be filler, just to be a body in uniform in the Futures League with players almost a decade younger than yourself. You want that in your future?”

“Are you trying to blackmail me?” Alysha asked, frowning.

“If this is what you consider blackmail . . . I guess I am,” Gark said, trying to stay as calm as possible. “But the League has changed. Veterans are no longer in demand. If I trade you, you’ll be lucky to be a benchwarmer where you end up. And that’s your best-case scenario. You have a year left on your contract, with a large-enough credit sum to make you a salary liability more than anything else for that one year. If I cut you, you would be lucky to find a gig anywhere else in this league, and the Premier League might not want you. That League has changed as well, since many undrafted players end up there if they don’t cut it here. And the Futures League . . . you don’t want to go there. Trust me. It’s not for proven players like yourself.”

Then a knock came at the door, and both parties looked up at who opened the door. Me’lin S’rily stuck her head into the room, a datapad in hand. “I just got . . . oh, hi, Alysha. Didn’t know you were still in here.”

“That’s all right,” the Hapan replied.

“Gark, the Smugglers front office is on the comm. channel right now. They want to try and hammer out a deal of some sort after you offered to open up trade talk with them,” the Twi’lek said. “I’ve put them on Line 2 at your convenience.”

“Thank you,” Gark said, and Me’lin closed the door. “I have to take this,” he said to Alysha. “If you could give me some time alone to hammer things out, that would be appreciated.” He lifted the handset. “However, I want you to think about what I’ve said, and see if that doesn’t change your mind.” He then spoke into the receiver. “Gark S’rily here. Yes, I would like to talk trade. What do you have in mind?”

Alysha walked out of the office to not disturb the Bothan. Her name was up on the trading block at her request, and now the Smugglers were calling in. Was her name potentially in this conversation? Was she destined for the dumps and violence of Nar Shaddaa? The New Six Boroughs was supposedly a very nice place to play . . . but the rest of the planet left something to be desired. It wasn’t her kind of place.

As she slumped down in front of another office door, Alysha thought through the events of the last few years. When she had been named captain, she had been so excited. Being captain of the Senators was quite an accomplishment. She would be following up potentially the greatest team captain of all time, which would be a hassle, but also an opportunity. But then the team had started to struggle at times. She had been trying too hard. The downside to all this was the pressure on her shoulders to perform. But she didn’t have the supporting cast that Dirxx Horstse had to lean on in his captaincy. She didn’t have a team that knew exactly how to run things. No, this team always tried too hard, and often it burned them when they became overextended. They had flashes of brilliance, but the current three-game losing streak, which never happened in the Horstse era after he became captain, was proof enough that something needed to be moved around. What could be done to tinker with the offense, because once Dauza Chary had been singled out, the team had sputtered. Would the defense be as effective next season, especially if Jerek had just punched his ticket off of Coruscant after the ugly fight in the closing minutes in the Hapes loss? What about the midfield? What was her fate? The other middies were likely safe, given their contributions, but she had gone on to rant about how things were unfair. She had taken things one step too far, and now she might pay the ultimate price for it. She might soon wish she had taken those words back, or be traded to Nar Shaddaa.

Was the Bothan right about the League and its move towards the Draft as the sole element of team-building? She was a veteran, a prized commodity back in the day. But she had also seen the effects of the Draft on the League. She was now fighting against draft pick after draft pick week after week at midfield. Even her teammates Gayla Renhorn and Demetra Silkins had been first-round draft picks, both second overall in their respective Drafts. She and Izzi Polakaya were the only two who had played before the beginning of the Draft. Yes fans loved the Draft and its potential, but as veteran players, Alysha couldn’t help but feel threatened. Was her tenure here going to end with a trade for filler players, or at worst a draft pick? Being traded for a nameless entity that for some time would still not be a named player seemed like the worst possible fate. At that point, you were traded because the team didn’t need you, didn’t want you, wanted a draft pick, a toss-up, an educated or uneducated guess, ahead of you, a veteran, a star player in your prime, someone who had been around the block a few times. Times were changing, and the veteran felt like she was behind the curve.

“You look depressed,” came a voice from the distance, and Alysha snapped out of her line of thought. Me’lin was staring straight at her from the front desk. “Gark threaten to cut you?”

“Pretty much,” Alysha said.

“Look, it’s probably not as bad as you think. You may believe that Gark wants to let you have it, but believe me, it’s not like that. You’re one of the franchise players, and I have a feeling that he’s just toughening you up a little bit. Giving you a bit of humility to step back and analyze yourself,” the Twi’lek said. “I have a feeling that by the end of the day, you’ll still be here. I have no doubt of that.”

When it came time for Alysha to return to Gark’s office, she had no idea what to think. The door closed behind her, and she was back in the spotlight in front of the Bothan GM. “I just got off the comm. with the Smugglers,” Gark said simply.

“Was my name brought up?” Alysha asked.

“Yes, your name was brought up in the trade talks. The Smugglers seemed very interested in acquiring you,” Gark replied.

“Have I been traded?” Alysha asked.

“Well, I guess that’s the only question you can ask at this point,” Gark said, shrugging. “But, to answer it: No, you were not traded.”

“What?” Alysha asked. She hadn’t been moved?

“I did get a deal done, but when I realized that what I had in you was worth more here than somewhere else, or someone else, it wouldn’t do to trade you. You not only know our system very well, but I still believe in you.”

“Then who did you trade?” Alysha asked.

“Jayla Leed will no longer be playing for us,” Gark replied. “I’ve traded her to the Smugglers for a couple of forwards. They hopefully will boost our struggling offense, which was an issue over the last three losses.”

“That’s an awful risk right there,” Alysha said.

“I would prefer to call it ‘faith’ in my team to be able to make up for it,” Gark replied. “But I held onto you because I think you can still be serviceable to this team. You still have talent, and I want to see that every game this next season. However, I am rescinding your captaincy, because it’s obvious that you don’t want it. Does this bother you?”

“Not at all,” Alysha said. It felt like a weight was coming off her shoulders.

“And until such a time as I deem you are fit to have it, you will not receive assistant captaincy,” Gark said. “I’m going to lower your blood pressure so that you can go out there and do what you did back in ’68 and ’69 when we made consecutive trips to the Finals. I want to see that Alysha Romax out there, not the version these past two years who tried too hard and got burned. If that’s everything, then I guess we’re done here.”

“One thing,” Alysha said, stopping Gark. “I . . . I think Iz should be team captain.”

“A reserve as full captain?” Gark asked, amused. “That’s an interesting proposal.”

“I trust her,” Alysha said. “And she’s more than capable of leading the team.”

“Consider your suggestion noted,” Gark said. “Oh, and one more thing that I want from you. I want you to make a public apology for your rash actions after the playoff loss. I know it will humble you, but I think it would serve your career the best to get it done with so that you can move on.”

“Fine,” Alysha said.

“Now, if we have nothing more to discuss, I have a few things I need to get to,” Gark said. Alysha got up and left the office, not saying anything more. There was nothing else to say. As soon as she was gone, Gark began to muse about other roster moves that he could make. Thyferra was doing a solid job this season, so he had some potential call-ups to make for next season. But he would have to make room on the roster here, so what could he do? Jerek was likely on the way out, but the Bothan wanted to hold onto him just in case a trade opportunity came up. Someone might bite on a solid defender. But he also knew that some other pieces needed to be moved around. So he began to diagram out his roster, and analyze what he had to work with right now. In order to finally get over the hump, the team would have to get creative.

TAG: Vehn (for trade stuff)

​

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Coruscant Senators Team Transactions:​

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Bel Erein (Mon Calamari, Female, Full Forward) retires​

Rayel Edare (Pantoran, Female, Half/Full Forward) becomes a free agent​

Rhyric Loayen (Human, Male, Corner Back) becomes a free agent​

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276 Elite League Entry-Level Draft: Mock Draft v1.0


Agamar Packers – Neaga (Midfielder/Goalkeeper, University of Euceron)

We’ve been seeing a lot of these hybrid goalies/middies in recent years, and the Packers could kill two Mynocks with one stone here by taking Neaga. Her versatility would be welcome on a team in transition and needs help on all sides of the ball.

Rydonni Prime Monarchs - Raley Tenegat (Corner Back, UB Salis D'aar)

The Monarchs need a complete overhaul on defense, ending up dead last in points allowed last season. Tenegat would add to the surprising number of Bakurans showing up on the Monarch roster (which proves that they have a serious Bakura complex going on), but won the Crampbell Award as the best defensive player in the galaxy. Not a bad pick here for a defense that needs help everywhere.

Bakura Miners [from Mando'ade Mercs] – Gary Zonka (Full Forward, Enarch Technical University)

It seems like the Miners always get additional picks in the Draft after doing well the previous season, so there is no real area of need here. Instead, look for them to do that smart thing and take Zonka, the Helmsman Trophy winner, just because they can. Besides, Aron Rodders won’t play forever, as proven this season. Having an understudy for a few seasons could pay dividends in five to six years.

Ralltiir Starkillers - Zonko Lyriss (Corner Forward, Coruscant Polytechnic Institute)

If this really happens, everyone who says that the Senators are the only team infatuated with CorTech needs to shut up. Seriously. Ralltiir doesn’t necessarily need a forward, but their defense is young and has lots of upside (not to mention being tied into long-term deals), and the corner forwards behind Loren Jul are questionable for staying power. Lyriss would provide a Bulitnekoff Award-winning resume despite playing on a less-than-stellar Mean Green squad.

Nar Shaddaa Smugglers - Thum Wowcin (Half Back, College of Fondordelphia)

With a young defensive core, the Smugglers are working on getting back to playing lockdown defense. If Jayla Leed turns out to be the next coming of Meredith Chambers, then the Smugglers are set. However, the middle of the defense has two older players who are starting to show signs of wear in Bree Tarth and Mira Kashvili, so Kaitlyn Vehn could elect to go younger here and help build around youngsters like Keisel, Zetter, and Nexrus. Wowcin doesn’t exactly “wow” the crowds with his play, but the draft is weak at this position, and waiting until the next round could prove disastrous if the Smugglers decide to go this way.

Coruscant Senators - Penny Jinch (Corner Back, Atalanta University)

With the departure of Jerek Deter seeming imminent, the Senators will look to replace him at the corner position. Enter Jinch, who is not highly-rated in the Draft but won the Grazo Award for being the galaxy’s Best Outside Defender on a terrible Atalanta team. Team Jinch with Christine Gamble, add in serviceable bench option Reid Livingstone, and the Senators may have a solid core of corners to lean on for the next decade.

Euceron Storm - Zovort (Half Back, College of Fondordelphia)

The Storm’s run to the playoffs this season included a complete change of formations for the team. With a healthy roster this next season, the Storm will likely return to standard alignment. Their half backs are starting to age rapidly, though, so they could go young here with Zovort. He should provide them some depth and eventual starter material when the old half backs decide it’s time to hang up the spikes.

Bakura Miners - Drista Konnenwirth (Corner Back, University of Evenvale)

With a defense that’s starting to look like it’s for real, the Miners can afford to stash a few players. Konnenwirth is a local girl who could contribute in a few seasons.


Second Round:

Agamar Packers - Raymondo "Ray" Gunn (Forward, University of Agamar)

Rydonni Prime Monarchs - Lenny Jowa (Full Back, Tiarest University)

Mando'ade Mercs - Robacca "Roby" (Full Back, The Ord Sabaok University)

Ralltiir Starkillers - Bella Starr (Defender, University of Agamar)

Nar Shaddaa Smugglers - Ynisse Zalt (Half Forward, Prytis College of Natural Sciences)

Coruscant Senators - Nihal Toggs (Goalkeeper, Republican University)

Euceron Storm - Erin Windreaver "Reaver" (Midfielder, University of Tatooine)

Bakura Miners - James Westfall (Corner Forward, Atalanta University)


Third Round:

Agamar Packers - Paul Rooker (Half Back, Coruscant Polytechnic Institute)

Nar Shaddaa Smugglers [from Rydonni Prime Monarchs] - Astraal Daru [Astra'aldaru] (Midfielder, University of Agamar)

Rydonni Prime Monarchs [from Mando'ade Mercs] – Off-the-board pick

Ralltiir Starkillers - Mylessa McCloud (University of Coruscant, Left Half Forward)

Euceron Storm [from Nar Shaddaa Smugglers] - Jonathan "Johnny Limmie" Lieznam (Half Forward, Taanab A&M University)

Coruscant Senators - Zarene Klick (Midfielder, College of Deredith & Millicent)

Euceron Storm – Kahpule Morkis (Zabrak, Male, Half Back, University of Euceron)

Bakura Miners – Off-the-board pick

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

 

IC: Zay Antilles
Location: Euceron Stadium, Eusebus, Euceron
Time: Three days after Conference Semifinal game

Zay was munching on a turnover when Palla's comlink buzzed. She looked down at it. "Voicemail?" she said. "How'd they leave a voicemail when my comlink never rang?"

"They probably called the voicemail system directly."

"I didn't know you could do that." Palla thumbed a few buttons on her comlink and was soon connected to her inbox. She selected the option to listen to the new message and then was silent for a few seconds. Zay stopped eating when he saw Palla's brow become furrowed and her face grow a puzzled look.

When Palla finally hung up, Zay spoke. "What was that?"

"The informant again. She just gave me the address of Bassell's safe house."

The turnover fell from Zay's hand. "What?!"

"You heard me."

"It can't be that easy. It's gotta be a trap of some kind."

"She was right about the attack on the Mercs game."

"Don't remind me. I think we need to stake out the location and analyze the tip for ourselves."

"Good thinking. You and I can handle the stake-out. Stanvo and Tal can handle security here by themselves now that the season is over."

---

Location: Abandoned building, across the street from safe house, Eusebus, Euceron
Time: Five days later

Zay kept one eye on the house across the street while he watched a bad holodrama with the other. The holodrama was so bad that Zay found himself occasionally laughing at it, despite the fact that it was not meant to be a comedy. Suddenly some movement across the street caught his eye, and he turned his full attention to the safe house as he picked up the macrobinoculars lying on the table.

Focusing them on the side alley, he studied the man climbing out of the speeder. The man was keeping his back to the main street, so Zay waited patiently for him to turn around. Finally he got a good look at his face—and recognized Rondy Bassell immediately.

"Bingo," he muttered. "I have you now, bastard."

"Excuse me?" asked Palla as she walked into the front room.

"Bassell just walked in over there."

"Alright, I'll get Stanvo and Tal over here and start planning an assault."

"I say we just hit it now. His chauffeur is still waiting, so he's not going to be there long, and we don't know how long it'll be before he shows up again."

"You think the two of us can handle it?"

"Yeah. I count a total of six in there now. With the element of surprise, those aren't bad odds."

"Okay, got a plan?"

"Let's just make it up as we go." Zay tossed his cloak on and headed for the side door, forcing his Master to keep up. With their faces hidden by their hoods, they blended in with foot traffic as they crossed the street a few doors away from the safe house. Stopping short of the alley, Palla nodded toward the side entrance, then the waiting speeder. Zay understood: the side entrance was probably unlocked and was thus their best bet.

Palla took the lead and charged toward the entrance, and Zay followed right on her heels. The two waited until they reached the door to drop their hoods and draw and ignite their lightsabers, and Zay briefly enjoyed the surprised look on Bassell's face inside as he watched his two most hated Jedi charge into his safe house. One lackey tried to run past the Jedi and escape out the door, but Zay casually sent him flying into the wall with a wave of his hand, stunning him momentarily. The young Jedi then slammed the door shut with the Force for good measure.

Bassell and another bad guy drew blasters from hip holsters as they took cover behind furniture. As they opened fire, Zay and his Master deflected every shot into the walls. The remaining three, cowed by the Jedi's display of force and skill, had simply given up and were just trying not to be hit by a stray bolt. Wanting to end the fight quickly, Zay charged at Bassell, leaping off a table and slicing his blaster in half before body-slamming him to the ground. The other guy, realizing that he was the only one still armed, gave himself up as Zay wrestled with Bassell. He finally flipped the bomber over onto his stomach as he heard sirens outside. Seconds later, two Eusebus police officers ran in.

"I need help over here!" Zay yelled.

One officer ran over to him and jumped on Bassell as well. The two of them together were able to force Bassell's hands into a pair of stun cuffs, and he finally stopped resisting. Zay breathed a sigh of relief as he slowly stood up. The whole fight had taken less then ninety seconds.

"I've got more officers on the way, as well as EBI agents," said the other officer as he and Palla kept the rest of the scene under control. "We were just driving by and heard the blasterfire, and we end up helping bag the top guy on the EBI Most Wanted list here. Good work, Master Jedi."

Zay acknowledged him with a nod, then returned his attention to Bassell, who was fighting against the officer again, this time with his legs. Zay pounced back on him and pinned him in place with the Force. At that, Bassell gave up again, but this time Zay didn't get up.

Within a few minutes, there were six city officers and two high-ranking EBI agents on the scene. The other five lackeys were cuffed as well and hauled off to jail, leaving just Bassell, as the speeder driver had taken off when the Jedi had revealed themselves.

Two officers shackled the terrorist's feet before he was pulled up and escorted outside to a waiting speeder. Palla and Zay watched as an officer opened a back door and began to help him in. As he was lowering himself into the back seat, Bassell turned to the Jedi.

"You think you've got me for good," he yelled, "but this is only a temporary setback! No jail cell can hold me!"

The officers forced him the rest of the way into the speeder and began to close the door. Before they could fully close it, however, Bassell uttered one last line:

"The Sith will have their revenge!!!"

Palla and Zay stared at the closed door, then at each other. They had thought that this was an ordinary terrorist group.

Now it was clear that they had thought wrong.

TAG: Nobody

 

OOC: So as not to ruin a thing, spoiler tags have been used for the awards this year! As always, if you're a winner, come on up and get your award from whatever viewpoint you like.


GM Post
Promenade Assembly Hall, Nar Shaddaa

If there was such a thing as Elite League Limmie Prom, it would be the Season Award Ceremony. The event was now held in advance of the Galactic Cup Final on the host world of the Final to accommodate nominees who were playing in the championship game. That meant this year it was being held on Nar Shaddaa for the first time. Glitz and glamor were not the first things one thought of in the Vertical City, but they were here in spades tonight as all of the nominees and limmie luminaries attended. Any Elite League player or team official could get an invitation and the event sometimes made for interesting networking between teams and players. The red carpet brought many different beings together.

Inside the hall was where all of the attention was. As usual, the Commissioner presided over the evening’s festivities.

“Well, hello Nar Shaddaa,” Niakara Kayl’hen said with a broad grin to the delight of the locals who had gotten tickets for the event, “Nar Shaddaa has always brought the best to the Elite League and now the Elite League brings the best to Nar Shaddaa.” That quip especially entertained the Vertical City dwellers.

“Tonight we honor the greatest achievements in limmie from the 275 ABY season,” Kayl’hen said, “and it has been quite a season, one that came down to the wire in both conferences and one that will culminate in a very exciting final here at the glistening Six Boroughs Stadium in the Vertical City.

“As always, we begin with the Ingbrand Award, which honors the ELL rookie of the year, which features three nominees from three positions. They are: Lizbit Comstock, Bakura Miners; Christine Gamble, Coruscant Senators; and Shady Leroux, Nar Shaddaa Smugglers.” The last one got a big cheer from the crowd.

“And the winner is…

Spoiler

…Lizbit Comstock, Bakura Miners.”

Comstock, dressed in a matching dark blue jacket and long skirt with white corset, received hugs from her teammates in attendance and headed up the aisle to applause to receive the Ingbrand from the Commissioner. “Wow…just wow,” Comstock said as she looked at the Ingbrand, “When you play Division II college limmie, this isn’t a day that you think is possible. I am so, so thankful to be here today, that the Miners gave me a chance. I have to thank my entire defense, who made me look good every week. That’s Max, Bengi, Neffroq, Nelly, Falene, and Ponie. You’re amazing. I wouldn’t be here without you. Thank you all.” Comstock lifted the Ingbrand in a parting toast to the crowd before heading off stage.

---

“The Langann Award recognizes the contributions of head coaches around the Elite League. These beings endure many sleepless nights during the season and long nights all year round as they take 15 players or more and bring them together in a team. Our nominees are Haron Orus of the Euceron Storm, Telana Perrette of the Corellia Rebels, and Gaeriel Valerii of the Bakura Miners.

“The winner of the Langann is—

Spoiler

—Haron Orus of the Storm.”

---

“The Duchess Eldin Award, which everyone here knows is my favorite, is handed out to the player who best couples sportsmanship and athletic achievement in the course of a season,” Kayl’hen said, “All three of our nominees come from the Solo Conference and they are: Loren Jul of the Ralltiir Starkillers, Vesper Lynd of the Rydonni Prime Monarchs, and Falene Trieste of the Bakura Miners.

“Our winner is…

Spoiler

…Vesper Lynd of the Rydonni Prime Monarchs.”

---

“If there is one person who works so hard with so little recognition to make a limmie team great, it is the general manager. This season, our three nominees for the Grames Award, which recognizes the best general manager in the League, are Quinn Cundertol, Bakura Miners; Gark S’rily, Coruscant Senators; and Kaitlyn Vehn, Nar Shaddaa.” Once again, large applause for the final nominee.

“The winner of the Grames is…

Spoiler

…Quinn Cundertol of the Bakura Miners.”

The tall human from Eriadu rose from his seat, received a hug (that he apparently was not quite ready for given the awkward look on his face) from the team doctor, Han Tunross, and shook hands with the Miners in attendance, including Comstock, who had returned to see the remainder of the ceremony after accepting her Ingbrand. She too gave Cundertol a hug, once again to his surprise.

The hall was not all applause for the Miner GM. There were some scattered boos, which might or might not have come from the Smuggler fans. Then again, there were plenty of people who didn’t much like the Smug Dragon.

Cundertol accepted the award, which he now had won for the second time in his career. “I was advised by my friend, Dr. Han Tunross, that in, and I quote him here, ‘the highly unlikely event you win again, just say “Thank you,” and leave before you get into more trouble.’ As usual, it’s also completely wrong.

“I have to thank Chancellor Trieste for her continued faith in me. Owners of less moral character would have fired me after last season. Not everyone would have recognized that what we’re doing in the Miners is going to change the game. There’s a reason it’s called the cutting edge: when you’re on the cutting edge sometimes you bleed. Gaeriel—you listened when I said you needed an assistant coach. Cuth—you’ve done a lot to take talented players and help them play to their potential.

“But most of all, I have to thank the players. Every one of you has played the way that I knew you could. You are an incredible group of players. Most especially I want to thank Lizbit, Ponie, Niskat, Neffroq, and Jolla. You all made the big jump this season and you’ve shown the galaxy what I saw in you.

“And finally, Han, though I don’t always say it, we make a good team. Thank you.”

---

“The Zumtak Award recognizes beings who have demonstrated perseverance and dedication to the sport of limmie,” Kayl’hen said, “Every season, the nominees bring us stories of hope, stories that inspire us, that remind us of what is good in the galaxy and in ourselves. Our nominees are once again an outstanding group that prove that the beings of the Elite League are an extraordinary group. They are Tim Dodd of the Agamar Packers for using limmie as a bridge between worlds, the fallen and injured players on the Euceron Storm for continuing to play in the face of great threats, and Kailtyn Vehn for supporting limmie in the disabled community.” Once again, the Smugglers nominee got a great cheer.

“And the winner of the Zumtak is…”

Spoiler

”…the fallen and injured players of the Euceron Storm.”

---

“And now we come to our final award for the night, the Salbukk Award, which honors the Elite League player judged most valuable to his or her team. It is the greatest individual award that a player can receive in the Elite League and we have three nominees this season that are true greats. They are Chenkabukk of the Euceron Storm, Andres Fortune of the Mando’ade Mercs, and Alana Glencross of the Bakura Miners.

“The winner of the Salbukk Award is…

Spoiler

…Alana Glencross of the Miners.”

The redhead came out of her seat, received a kiss from her boyfriend and hugs from her teammates. Alana took the trophy up on the stage and looked out at the hall. “You know, the luckiest among us get up to be here once in our careers. To receive the Salbukk twice in a career, plus receive Duchess Eldin Awards…I am too honored by everyone. I owe this award to every one of my teammates, especially Jolla who was more ready to play in the Elite League than just about anyone I’ve ever seen. Gaeriel Valerii, every week you trust me to run things at midfield and every week I go out there to make sure I don’t disappoint. And Quinn…you came to me and asked me to be your captain. I didn’t believe in myself then, but, like usual, you were annoyingly right.

“Thank you all so much. Here’s to this trophy and the big one in a few days. Thank you,” Alana concluded.

---

“Gentlebeings, that concludes the 275 Elite League Limmie Season Awards. We’ll see all of you at Six Boroughs for the Galactic Cup Final,” Kayl’hen said, “Good night and congratulations to all our nominees and winners.”

TAG: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja jcgoble3 Jedi Gunny Runjedirun Tim Battershell Vehn

And one more note on voting:

Spoiler

There was only one tie this year: Zumtak voting. For the record, the fallen and injured Storm players were tied with Kaitlyn Vehn in votes. The die roller decided the winner.

 

GM Notice

The 276 draft schedule will be as follows:

First Round

1. January 8 - Agamar Packers
2. January 9 - Rydonni Prime Monarchs
3. January 10 - Bakura Miners
4. January 11 - Ralltiir Starkillers
5. January 12 - Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
6. January 13 - Coruscant Senators
7. January 14 - Euceron Storm
8. January 15 - Bakura Miners

Second and Third Rounds

January 16 – 19
(Used the endash just for you jcgoble3)

As always, we can run ahead of this schedule if everyone has their act together but no one will be rushed. In the first day you are guaranteed you have up to the end of the day listed (as defined by US Pacific time) to make your pick. The second round will begin as soon as the first round is finished and same for the third round. When we know when the first round finishes I will set a date at that time for the official end of the second round just in case we have any feet draggers.

Let me know if you have questions or if this schedule presents a grave problem for you!

TAG: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja jcgoble3 Jedi Gunny Runjedirun Tim Battershell Vehn

 

EDIT: Now look who posted in the wrong thread.

 

IC: Vesper Lynd
Board Room, Monarchs Corporate Offices, Monarchs Stadium

The season ended, finally, with two victories at the half-wrecked, snow covered, Monarchs Stadium. Snow fall on Rydonni Prime is not uncommon, but it typically happened only during a short one month period, and usually not during the limmie season. But every 70 - 80 years the planet would experience an almost year long winter, in which the entire planet would be blanketed with snow. The last such phenomenon was in 200 ABY and all the meteorologists were now proclaiming, “Winter is Coming.”



As Vesper made her way to through the corporate offices, she noticed the model of the reconstructed Monarchs Stadium. The architects must have been heeding the weatherman’s warnings, because the new design featured a non retractable roof. With the loss of The M’nrydo, the stadiums seating capacity had been greatly reduced and it did not appear that the new stadium would recoup those loses.

“They are ready to see you now,” the General Manager’s personal assistant informed Vesper.

Walking through the doors she was greeted by a curious sight, the Chairmen and General Managers of all four House K’ntarr teams sitting around the table. At the head of the conference table sat Setarcos Rhemes who had Variise and Kalin K’ntarr on either side, representing him as GM of both the Monarchs and the Red Wings. Next to Variise sat Ejo Sephi and Arden K’ntarr of the Blasters. Meanwhile, sitting across from them, were Greebus Ion and Loruna K’ntarr of the Loronar Colonials.

Vesper’s half of the table was completely empty with the exception her agent and the House Solicitor, who acted as the legal counsel for the teams. As she sat down, she could see out of the corner of eye, Arden trying to make eye contact with her, but she did not allow it. When the team returned to Rydonni Prime from Coruscant, Vesper found that the security code on her apartment had been changed. The message that accompanied the access denial told her that she had been evicted by order of Arden K’ntarr. She later discovered that her possessions were sent to the Monarchs team housing and that Cathrine Dawson had moved into her new apartment.

“So, what is the deal with the company party Setarcos?” Vesper asked.

The General Manager remained seated, a sly grin spread across his lips, “Well, Ms Lynd, we wanted you to hear the latest news first. The Loronar Colonials are going to be joining the Galactic Championship Limmie Association in 276.”

“And what does this have to do with me?”

“If you were unaware your contract with us expired with the end of the season and we are all here to explore the various options.”

“That still does not explain why Loronar and Balmorra are here.” She intentionally used their city designations instead of their nicknames.

“They are here to offer you positions in their respective organizations.”

Vesper chortled, “As a coach? I don’t even want to hear their offers, send them away.”

Her agent reached over and placed a hand on her arm, “Let’s not be so hasty, perhaps they are offering more than just coaching positions.”

“No offense, Loruna,” Vesper ignored her agent and looked down the table towards the Colonials’ Chairman, “but there is no way that I am going to a third tier limmie organization, regardless of the pay or position.” She did not even look at the other side of the table towards the Balmorra delegation, “The same goes for a second tier team as well.”

Silence hung in the room like a foul stench, until Setarcos nodded towards Ejo and Greebus in turn. Both sides of the table rose and proceeded towards the door. Arden lingered for a moment as he approached Vesper, “I’ll be waiting outside so that…”

“Councilor,” Vesper interrupted, looking towards the House Solicitor, “perhaps you should advise your client before he gets himself into trouble.”

Everyone around the table took up a confused look upon their faces with the exception of Vesper, the Solicitor, and Kalin, who seemed more intrigued about what was unfolding before him. The House Solicitor looked up at Arden with a heavy look, “Baron, I had hoped to discuss this matter with you in private, but you are being sued for wrongful eviction and violation of a lease agreement. The court has also issued a restraining order, stating that you are not to converse with Ms Lynd about anything but official limmie business. If you do not abide by the court’s order you will be subject to severe penalties. You should consider yourself served and bound to adhere to the ruling of court.”

Arden opened his mouth as if to say another word, but stopped himself and marched out of the room. Vesper allowed herself a small grin of satisfaction. Once the room was practically emptied she glanced over at Kalin, who spoke first, “To be honest with you, dearie, I don’t expect to see your talents on display in Adrimar Arena anytime soon.” He propped his feet up on the table and put his hands behind his head, “I’m just here for the show now.”

Vesper simply nodded towards him and stared across the table at Setarcos, “So, Mr. Rhemes, what is your offer?”

The General Manager nodded towards the House Solicitor, who in turn slid a datapad across to Vesper’s agent. The young woman flipped the datapad over and then passed it over to Vesper. “You’re offer is generous Your Grace,” the agent addressed Queen Variise.

“Puh,” Vesper snorted, “Generous? Only in the amount of insult.” She looked over at her agent, “So who exactly do you work for? Me or House K’ntarr?” Before the agent responded Vesper simply said, “You’re fired.” She then turned her attention back to the GM and Chairman, “The last time I checked, I was the current Captain of the Monarchs, the keeper of several offensive team records, and one of the best known players in the entire Elite League. Why do you think that I would agree to a paltry three year deal?”

“Perhaps we’ll franchise you and prevent you from negotiating to other teams?”

“There is no such contract stipulation in the ELL.”

“Ah, but there is one within the Monarchs organization,” Setarcos retorted, “You should have read your contract closely Ms Lynd. We are able to designate one player each season as a franchise player, extending your contract for one more year and baring you from negotiating a contract with another team. We have already come to terms with Cali Royd and Winnifred Aptos, so you are the last remaining Free Agent.”

“I know of the contracts you have given to Cali and Winnie, they were offered five years. Why am I getting three?” Vesper stood up from the table, “I am not going to be giving you any answer today. I have an awards ceremony to attend, unless you haven’t heard. After which time I will be going to Bakura for a short time and once I am done there I will return with your answer.” With a simple bow towards the nobles, Vesper turned and strolled out of the room.

TAG: Trieste (player moves)

--Transaction Wire--
Rydonni Prime Monarchs & Byblos Red Wings

• Niles Razyr (Human, Male, Corner Forward) Released to Free Agency
• Rean Facin (Human, Male, Full Forward) Released to Free Agency
• Pasla Tesh (Human, Male, Corner Forward) Released to Free Agency
• Cali Royd (Hapan, Female, Midfielder) Signed to a Five Year contract extension
• Winnifred Aptos (Human, Female, Corner Forward) Signed to a Five Year contract extension

 

IC: Tim Dodd - 275 Elite League Awards Ceremony, Nar Shaddaa

Well, here he was at the 275 ABY Awards Ceremony; nominated for a Zumtak for the second year running.... and he didn't deserve it! Not at all! It hadn't even been wholly his idea. Obviously the people who had caused him to be nominated didn't understand much about Agamarians or the Agamarian Executive Government System! He'd put the proposals before the Council and argued for them because they arose out of Limmie, and Limmie and related matters were his area of responsibility. Nothing much more than that, although it was nice to have friendly relations with Bakura, with the Noble House and with the current Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. Also with the Senatorial Guard.... they surely knew, or had been told, about the 'special features' built into his walking cane, but they'd not demanded, or even politely requested, that he lay that particular cane aside when in the company of members of the Noble House or even of the Supreme Chancellor herself! How was that for professional courtesy? And for the rest of it, well, that was just Agamarians being neighbourly - even though Bakura was half the known Galaxy away!

A bit more neighbourliness wouldn't come amiss in the Elite League, though. Let there be rivalry, by all means, but in Limmie it seemed to have spilled-over into outright hatred. Even taking into account the usual gamesmanship tactic of Clubbers being "malleted" by GateKeepers and Hurlers in an attempt to put them off their game, TenGate was the apex of civilised conduct by comparison! Not that the Arbiters would allow anything to go too far beyond mere banter - even when the North-Hem Lions were contesting 'the Corpse' (actually a miniature coffin) with their 'deadly rivals' the South-Hem Hoppers. One would think in such a situation, especially with the 'golden refreshment liquid' freely available, that there would be frequent fist-fights (at the very least) between the two groups of supporters - but no, not a bit of it. Everyone applauded good play, or landmark scores, by friends and 'foes' alike; and a really significant achievement had whole Stadiums standing to applaud when that particular Clubber, Hurler or Gatherer walked back to 'the Barn' at the end of play.

He was keenly aware that a Limmie team needed two things above all else, Fans on seats (filling a Stadium to capacity, if possible) and players who only had the upcoming match on their minds. Fans who were reluctant to watch games at the Stadiums out of fears for their own safety and players who were distracted by the possibility of being targeted by a maniac did not make for a successful franchise. Both profits and quality of play were sure to suffer. Even though the Euceron situation appeared to have been resolved with the reported arrest of that particular group of perpetrators, it set a dangerous precedent. Not only (thankfully rare) terrorists but also the various brands of extortionists might try to jump on the recently vacated bandwagon. They'd both seen and heard that Limmie franchises were vulnerable to such action and that even Jedi took quite some time to bring about a satisfactory result.... moreover, that Jedi could be manipulated out of position almost as easily as regular cops could. It wasn't the Jedi Order's fault, or the fault of any particular Jedi, just that their numbers were so few. They couldn't devote enough personnel to maintaining close-in protection, plus investigate incidents that might become threats, plus follow up leads, all at once.

There was an idea buzzing around in his head - there usually were several, and at times enough to qualify as a much-disturbed hive - but he needed advice from a being much more expert in Limmie matters than himself. A being that he hoped to encounter today.... and there he was! The worst that could happen by approaching him right now would be to be told "NO!".

"Ah, Mr S'rily! Tim Dodd of the Agamar Packers. We've not spoken before, but I saw you at the BoG meeting and across the pitch when our teams played each other. Glad that I spotted you here! I've had a wild thought or two that I need reality-checked by someone who knows Limmie, League Politics and Crimefighting a great deal better than I do; and Asyr and the Ven'nari brothers have been praising you as a straight-shooter - in both meanings! So I was wondering if you could spare me a few minutes in the not-too-distant future? It's about Limmie franchises, their vulnerability to terrorism or plain extortion and what can be done at a League level to defeat the scumbags should they try for a repeat of the Euceron situation."


TAG: Jedi Gunny

 

IC: Gark S’rily
Hotel, Nar Shaddaa

“This is why I don’t like staying here any longer than I have to,” Gark said as he dusted off his suit in the hotel room. The rumblings of goings-on outside constantly caused a smattering of dust to fall from the ceiling and walls and spread out once it hit open air. This was why the battered chairs were covered in dust, and why Gark was sneezing more often than normal. “Too much dust. Reminds me of the old workshops back home that I would go to after school to see my father. Full of dust, and noisy as all get out.”

“You having second thoughts about coming now?” Me’lin asked from the refresher sink, where she was still applying some makeup in the ratty old mirror that miraculously was still hanging on the wall.

“Not for the ceremony, but the atmosphere of Nar Shaddaa has never quite been my thing. And with some of the things I’ve seen back home, I should be used to this kind of environment,” Gark admitted. It was true; he had grown up in a poor borough of Coruscant, and had been picked on many a time by bullies who wanted his lunch money or just to harass him. The Vertical City reminded him a lot of those poor housing developments, many poor people packed into tight spaces like common animals. It just wasn’t right, he knew, but what could he do about it? Nar Shaddaa was the “Smuggler’s Moon” for a reason; many of its inhabitants were there simply because they wished not to be found. And it was a perfect place to blend in and live your life. But it was also hostile territory, with the specter of New Six Boroughs Stadium and the legends who had worn the Smuggler uniform evident all over the planet. One could get by fine with black, but once the orange came out . . . that was when things could get messy. Smuggler fans were not known to always be lenient to opposing fanbases. It was part of the image that they upheld, ‘The Crew’ the moniker for their most rabid supporters. And they certainly were a motley group. How anyone could enjoy playing here, Gark didn’t quite know, but on the other hand, in the midst of grinding poverty not unlike Coruscant’s poor districts, the Limmie team was one beacon of hope in the darkness of everyday life. So that must be what kept these beings going. The hope that they could all celebrate in a Smuggler win and not feel distraught by a loss. Kaitlyn Vehn might be a rogue in her own right, and who was Gark to be “normal” with all of the weird things he had done over the years? She had reinvigorated the franchise, and was building something here. One couldn’t keep the Smugglers down too long before they came roaring back. They had nine Galactic Cups for a reason.

It took several more minutes for Me’lin to finish, so Gark just sat on the edge of the lumpy bed and thought about things. Galin was back on Coruscant with a few team staff members, so he was out of the way for a few days. Having him here would have been tough, because in such a rough environment, Me’lin had been afraid that the child would have gotten hurt somehow. Gark doubted that, but he was still on alert. It wasn’t exactly safe being associated with the Senators around these parts, even though the Rim War had cooled off over the last few years as the Smugglers and Senators found new rivalries to add to the list of grudge matches. The Smugglers were now going all-in with the Mercs, and the Miners were certainly ratcheting up the intensity of their rivalry. For the Senators, they had added the Mercs and the Monarchs, and since they didn’t see the Smugglers every year as they had prior to the 273 offseason realignment plan, the rivalry lost some of its punch when the two teams didn’t play this past season. That, plus the Patriots having won the Galactic Cup in 274, and the Miners playing for it (and probably winning) this season, those two conference rivalries were certainly receiving much of the attention. Rydonni Prime was determined to be a thorn in the Senators’ side as well, so the Rim War was mostly forgotten this season by casual fans. But the diehards still knew the value of the rivalry, and next season would get a chance to see it played out again.

When Me’lin was finally done (seriously, Gark thought, she never used this much makeup), she came out into the dusty room, and Gark did a double take. His wife looked stunning in a nice white dress that he had never seen before. Probably from one of her shopping trips. “How do I look?” she asked.

“Uh . . .” Gark said as his eyes bulged out a little bit. “Where’d you get it?” She looked a lot more presentable than he did, with his ruffled formal wear and slightly rogue-ish fur that just didn't want to stay in place for very long.

“Recent trip out,” Me’lin replied. “I really liked the color. Nice contrast to the other colors I have in my formal closet.”

“It’s . . . perfect,” Gark finally said. And it certainly was. It flaunted Me’lin’s finer features, something that he found rather intriguing. But now was not the time for such things, as he looked at the chrono on the wall. Despite missing pieces, he could still tell what time it was through the smashed glass. “OK, we need to get going. Don’t want to be late.”

“But we’re not going to be late, honey,” Me’lin chided. “We’re going to be an hour early.”

“Precisely,” Gark replied as he quickly ran a paw through his fur. “That’s why I have a plan to schmooze with executives and celebrities.”

“I didn’t think you were the kind of person to do something like that.”

“Eh, might as well,” Gark said. “I’m shaking up things in the organization to try and get over the hump, so I figured I might as well try to change a few things up for myself as well.”

“Suit yourself,” Me’lin said as the two of them left the room.

---

Promenade Assembly Hall, Nar Shaddaa

The Awards ceremony was fifteen minutes away, and Gark was ready to head into the hall to be seated for the proceedings. He was up for the Grames, an award he had already won twice, including the inaugural one, back before it had a name. However, there was little chance he would win; Quinn Cundertol deserved it, even though he was a pompous ass. He probably would give another annoying speech about how no one believed in the Miners, about how self-righteous he was, and about how the Noble House was the biggest thing since sliced bread. Well, given how the Miners had seemingly won everything in sight over the past six years, Gark didn’t buy that excuse that “no one believed”. Frankly, the Miners had become the new ‘Evil Empire’ of the League. That’s what one (and probably two) Galactic Cups, 2 Commissioner’s Trophies, and countless award and All-Star nominations, would do for your franchise. At least it took pressure off the Senators for a little while.

He had bumped into Christine Gamble, the rookie corner who was up for the Ingbrand Award. Again, she likely would lose to the Miners, but at least she had a chance, and that’s all anyone had these days with the Miners being nominated (and likely winning at least three) for 5 out of the six awards. Adanna was also here, although as a Miner and Senator, she had never been particularly liked around here, as were a few other players. Once again, it was a small Senator delegation, most of the players not bothering to come since most of them didn’t exactly think Nar Shaddaa was a particularly good vacation spot. Polis and Meredith were here, of course, and the Smuggler Hall-of-Famer drew crowds wherever she went. Poor Polis, Gark thought as he finished a biscuit from one of the trays that was going around. He was getting surrounded by Smugglers faithful because of Meredith, and probably lucky one of them didn’t try to beat him up.

And then he heard a voice coming from nearby. He didn’t recognize it, so he looked around to see a human. Obviously, not someone who he had met before. “Ah, Mr S'rily! Tim Dodd of the Agamar Packers. We've not spoken before, but I saw you at the BoG meeting and across the pitch when our teams played each other. Glad that I spotted you here!” Ah, so this was Tim Dodd, Gark remembered. The BoG meeting was mostly out of Gark’s mind by this point, so he had forgotten Dodd. Also, the man had been rather quiet at the meeting on the overall, so Gark hadn’t really picked him out of a crowd that included a buckethead, several nobility, Kaitlyn Vehn, and that really short Euceron GM Zargana (he didn’t remember the first name, though) who always had a knack for getting things done even in the face of major odds.

“Good to meet you, Mr. Dodd. In person this time,” Gark said. He wasn’t sure why Dodd wanted to speak to him, but it was the Awards. He had to live a little.

I've had a wild thought or two that I need reality-checked by someone who knows Limmie, League Politics and Crimefighting a great deal better than I do; and Asyr and the Ven'nari brothers have been praising you as a straight-shooter - in both meanings! So I was wondering if you could spare me a few minutes in the not-too-distant future? It's about Limmie franchises, their vulnerability to terrorism or plain extortion and what can be done at a League level to defeat the scumbags should they try for a repeat of the Euceron situation."

Gark had a feeling that this was going down a path he really didn’t want to follow. Yes terrorism was a major buzzword these days after the Euceron attack, and Dodd had an excellent point about that driving away fans. Gark had thought the very same thing after the attack during the season; would fans come out if there was no guarantee of even player safety? And players were the ones who typically had the mostprotection out of anyone. And then his mind slipped to Calo Mornd. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, to think of the man who had ruined his life. But with the current state of affairs, it needed to be addressed. Security was now at a premium in this galaxy; after all, hadn’t the Mandalorians and Bakurans just gone off to war the prior year in the name of home planet security?

“I . . . guess so, Mr. Dodd,” Gark said after a long pause. “I’m not sure how much help I’m going to be, though. Every situation is unique. Agamar is not Coruscant, which is not Bakura, which is not Mandalore. Differing circumstances, Mr. Dodd, require different plans of attack. No different than in Limmie. So all I could give you that would be worthwhile would be exactly what you ask for, a few minutes. There are simply things you can’t plan for, and security is sometimes on that list. Add in circumstances, and I can only give you possible ideas. I can’t give you a fix-all solution to what may ail the Packers, because I simply don’t know. What I’ve done with the Senators and their security over the years . . . and I’m not proud of much of it for . . . obvious reasons . . . was just a gut reaction. I couldn’t have planned it out like that had I tried.” He shrugged after finishing, because there really was no way to remedy what might ail Dodd and his team. In crimefighting, one had to be adaptable. But you never knew exactly what you needed to do, because half the time, it would come crashing back down upon you. He could give Dodd a few tips here and there, but probably not what the man was looking for.

As expected, the Awards didn't go to the Coruscant nominees. Gark wasn't exactly shocked, but there was still an air of disappointment. Such a promising season had been derailed by blowout home losses and infighting, and that still hung like a pall over the team. Christine looked extremely put-out that she didn't win the Ingbrand; it was such a common sight to see a Senator nominee go without winning the award. This made five times the team had a nominee and hadn't won. Someday that would have to change. The Miners kept kicking them down at every turn this year, so next year's priority would be to swing the pendulum back toward the Coruscant side. This was going to be a long offseason.


TAG: Tim Battershell, Vehn (for Nar Shaddaa stuff)

 

IC: Falene Trieste
Home locker room, Six Boroughs Stadium, Nar Shaddaa



“Well, Aunt Kaitlyn sure spent her money well,” Falene said appreciatively.

The visitor’s locker room, once a dump on Nar Shaddaa, had clearly received a much needed upgrade in the reconstruction. The home locker room made it look like a dump again. It was nicer than the Miners’ home locker room. It was bigger, had better carpet, cleaner lines, larger stalls, richer wood, better technology, better everything. And the Bakura Miners were sitting in it, getting ready for the 130th Galactic Cup Final.

“Kaitlyn Vehn is your aunt? Really?” Niskat asked from her stall next to Falene. Unlike the Miners’ locker room, there were actually a couple feet between them, which meant Falene wasn’t going to take her biweekly elbow to the chin as Niskat pulled her socks on today.

“Well, kind of. See, my Uncle Oisin married Verity Vehn. So she’s my aunt. Verity’s brother would be my uncle in-law…I think. Liam Vehn married Kaitlyn…so she’s my aunt in-law, but since she married into the Vehns she’s my aunt in-in-law. Or aunt in-law-law.”

“So in other words, not related to you at all,” Niskat summarized.

“Well, we’re kind of related, just not very related,” Falene said.

“That makes no sense.”

“You make no sense.”

“But I’m charming and cute when I make no sense and I become a Holonet meme.”

“You do not.”

“Search ‘Niskat Deenever meme.’ There’s like a quintrillion hits for that.”

“Quintrillion isn’t a number.”

“It is ever since I started making memes.”

“Are we seriously arguing about this before the biggest game of our careers?” Becki Morlan groaned from across the room, which given its size was quite a ways away.

“You’re just jealous you don’t start memes,” Niskat said.

Falene had stopped listening to the bickering that ensued. She had stood up to get her jersey and in doing so she realized what she was doing. There it was, dark blue with its yellow gold accents, the national colors of her homeworld. Across the front, “BAKURA MINERS,” the name of the team that her family had owned for…Falene counted back. Fionn Dunross Trieste had bought it and they’d played their first season in 216. That meant that they’d owned the team for 59 years.

No. Wait. 216 counted as a year.

“Holy Sithspit,” Falene breathed.

“What?” Niskat said, looking up, the joking gone.

“This is the 60th season of my family owning the Miners. I’m playing in the Galactic Cup Final on the 60th anniversary of my family owning the Miners,” Falene said, “Holy Sithspit.”

“You think that’s a coincidence?” Niskat asked.

“Yeah, I do, but it’s one hell of a coincidence,” Falene said.

On what would be Falene’s right when she put the jersey on there was a special patch, one that would never be on another Miner jersey again. It read “120th Galactic Cup Final.” One week ago, they had earned the right to sew that patch onto their jerseys and now it was there for the whole galaxy to see.

But it wasn’t enough. There was one more game left to play.

Falene took the jersey, bearing the number 28, off its hangar and pulled it over her head. It was the simplest act, but she couldn’t help but feel that it was so important.

---

The team was dressed, warmed up, and ready. There was only one thing left.

The doors slid open for Valerii, dressed in gray pant suit with dark blue blouse. “Some of us have been here before, some of us haven’t,” she said, all business, “The only thing you need to know is that doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters now is that there is no limmie tomorrow. Tomorrow we will experience the longest offseason of our lives or the greatest one.

“But that’s not what I want you to go out there thinking about,” Gaeriel said, “I know what you’re thinking. I see it in your eyes right now, ‘The Rebels were the top seed in the Skywalker Conference.’ And they were. But let’s dissect this Rebels team. Third to last in the League in points scored. Shooting percentage—abysmal. Corsi numbers—terrible. Passer rating—I’ve never seen numbers so low. Time of possession—don't even get me started. This team is so terrible on offense that if Lizbit spent half the game picking flowers on the sideline that they would be lucky if they scored half the goals they attempted.

“Now, does someone want to ask the obvious question?”

“If they’re so bad, then why did they put up 34 points on Euceron?” Wizmark asked.

“Yes!” Valerii exclaimed, “That is the question! We all watched the game. We broke it down. The Rebels played against the Antilles Formation, which is alternately brilliant and absolutely terrible. That game was not indicative of the strength of the Rebels. The Rebels, the best defensive team in the League in the regular season, frigging gift wrapped the Conference Final for the Storm. They literally could not have given the Storm a better chance to win that game. Corvo Antilles was atrocious. MVP candidate? Not after that game.

“No one in this room is underestimating the Rebels, I know that. You don’t get here without being good. We know that. But no one in this room should overestimate them. No one in this room should be intimidated by them. They beat us in the regular season. Okay, frak them. So did Hapes and they’re sitting at home right now.

“I am going to be honest—if Euceron had won, and I still don’t know how they didn’t win—I would be worried. If Ylesia was here today, I would be worried. If the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers, who, and I am not just saying this because I’m sure Kaitlyn Vehn has a hidden camera in here, could have made the playoffs with a break or two their way made it all the way here, I would be worried. But the Rebels?” Gaeriel shook her head. “If you’d told me at the start of the playoffs it was going to be us versus them I would have said, ‘Best offense vs. best defense. Bring it on. We’ll play that game.’

“29 points. That’s what the Euceron Storm, a team that has been cobbled together with reserves and nobodies put up against this supposedly great defense. 29 points. You tell me that we’re facing the best defense in the League after what we saw last week.”

Valerii paused. “The last time this team was on this stage, we were the greatest underdogs that had ever played in this game. Ever. Well, now it’s all different. Now we are on top. We won the Commissioner’s Trophy. The league MVP is sitting right there. The rookie of the year is sitting over there. The GM of the year put us together.

“We have fought hard since training camp to play today,” Gaeriel Valerii said, “We are Bakura and this is our time. Let’s go.”

The Miners got to their feet, clapping to psych each other up and headed out of the locker room. They walked down the halls that were normally reserved for the Smugglers, their cleats crossing the lengths of carpet that led to the field. The old Six Boroughs had been loud. It seemed things hadn’t changed in the new Six Boroughs. The closer they got to the field, the louder the noise grew. It didn’t matter that their team wasn’t playing. There were plenty of Miner fans and plenty of Rebel fans, but there were also members of the Crew who had bought their seats long ago. They would not have missed this game for anything, even if the Smugglers weren’t playing. These fans had infected their guests with their peculiar disease that belonged to Vertical City limmie, their raucous, rabid, intractable fanaticism for this beautiful game. This Galactic Cup Final would be infected by sound and fury.

Down the hallway they walked, surrounded by burgundy and black, the colors of their nemeses who had walked down this passage before the 275 season had begun, who had christened this stadium with Bakuran whiskey. That loss, once so stinging, was in the mind of no one who wore blue and gold now. There was only one trophy that mattered now.

At the head of the line was their captain, the reigning MVP. Midway in the line was their goalkeeper, who one year ago had been a nobody, who had not even expected to be drafted, who was now the rookie of the year. Behind her was their assistant captain, the last Miner to hoist the award given to the playoff MVP. Behind him was a Vertical City girl, born and raised, who was coming home in the biggest game of them all, who had bought her entire allotment of tickets and kept not a single one for herself, giving them all to the Valor Foundation with the explicit instruction that they go to current program participants because “the kids deserve to be part of something where they could be proud of their homeworld today.” At the end of the line was a woman who had never fit in except on the limmie field. Directly in front of her was her best friend, who had once been a galactic college champion.

The Miners stopped at the edge of the tunnel. The Rebels were still being introduced to the crowd and their fans were cheering them each in turn. This meant that there was a little time to kill. Falene shifted from one foot to the other, eager to get out there. As she was doing so, she was nudged from behind.

“Fae! Fae! Look!” Niskat said, pointing just to their left.

Falene looked over and saw the line of VCPD officers in position—and Deenever was particularly excited about one of them.

“Officer! Here we are again!” Niskat exclaimed with great joy.

Officer Jaden Vercrup, dressed in his finest duty uniform, turned to look at the center half forward. “Have we met?”

“Don’t you remember? We were in the other tunnel at the first game here!” Niskat said, feigning disappointment, “Bet you didn’t expect to see us coming out of the home locker room, now did you?”

“I am floored,” Vercrup deadpanned.

“I don’t mean to burst your bubble, but we’re way better than the team that usually comes out of here,” Niskat said confidentially.

“Oh?” Vercrup said, “I don’t watch limmie.”

“That’s right! You’re only here because it’s a big deal to be part of the VCPD Miner protection squad,” Niskat said.

“It’s not—!” Vercrup started, clearly ruffled, “This is an honor for any Vertical City police officer, being named head of the home team delegation of officers for the Galactic Cup Final. We are the last line of defense.”

“Welllllllllll…” Falene said, drawing the word out, “Not exactly…”

Vercrup raised an eyebrow. Falene pointed over her shoulder to her Nautolan Senatorial Guard minder.

“’Sup, man,” the Nautolan said with a smile, before looking at Falene again, “I think the Rebels introduction is winding down. They’re on the corner back line. Better get ready.”

“Catch you on the flipside, officer,” Niskat said cheerily, “Once more, with feeling, Falene.”

The pair exchanged what would be their last pregame high five of 275. It had been good luck thus far. They needed it to be good luck just one more time this year. At the front of the line, amidst the noise and chaos, Glencross turned around.

“We are not now that strength which in old days,” Glencross yelled to the team.

“Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are,” Rodders yelled back.

“One equal temper of heroic hearts,” Comstock called out.

“Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will,” Grap continued, as loud as he could.

“To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield!” Falene finished.

“Gentlebeings,” the public address announcer boomed, “the Solo Conference Champions, the Bakura Miners.”

As one, the team of blue and gold took the field.


TAG: Vehn just because I infused this with so much Nar Shaddaaness

 

IC: Zay Antilles
Location: High Council Chambers, Jedi Temple, Ossus
Time: Five days after Rondy Bassell's arrest

Part 1 of 3

Zay concluded his portion of the report, and Grand Master Kash Skywalker spoke up. "Thank you. I wish you two had been able to stop the shooting after the Mercs game, but from the sounds of things that shooting would have been much worse if you hadn't been on the premises at all. I assume that concludes the mission report?"

"There is... one more thing," Palla said. She hesitated before continuing, causing Kash to furrow his brow. "As he was being hauled away, Bassell said something that caused both of us to freeze in our tracks."

"What did he say?"

"He said, and I quote, 'The Sith will have their revenge,' end quote."

There was dead silence in the Council room for several seconds. Finally, Master Stanik spoke up. "The Sith?"

"Yes, the Sith."

At Palla's confirmation, several Council members began talking at once, until Kash silenced them. "This is highly worrisome," he said. "If Bassell is truly connected to the Sith, then we will need to tread lightly. This will require a thorough investigation, which I will lead personally. I will need a few days to work out the best way to proceed. Until then, if that is all, then Zay, you are dismissed. Palla, I would like you to remain here."

Zay bowed, then exited the chamber. He knew exactly why his Master had been asked to remain: the Council wanted to discuss his readiness for the Jedi Trials. He had done his part to become ready to take the tests of Knighthood. Now it was up to the Council to decide his fate.

---

Time: Four hours later

Zay stood in the turbolift as it took him to the top floor. He had been summoned to the Council Chambers, where he would find out if he would be allowed to take the Trials or if he had run out of chances. As the door opened, he looked across the atrium to find the doors to the Council room already open. As he walked in, Palla motioned for him to stand in front of her, and he did.

"Padawan Zay Antilles," the Grand Master began. "After discussion and analysis of your readiness, it is the unanimous decision of this High Council that you are ready to take the Trials."

Immediately, Zay felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had finally been approved.

Kash continued. "Do you feel that you are ready for the Trials?"

"Yes, Master," replied Zay.

"As several top Masters, including Battlemaster Kerrick Kre'fey, are not here at this time, you will need to travel to the Coruscant Temple. The Council will accompany you on the flight, as we have other business to take care of there, but the Masters already present on Coruscant will administer the Trials. I wish you the best, and may the Force be with you."

---

Location: Training room, Jedi Temple, Coruscant
Time: Six days later

Zay ignited his lightsaber as his opponent did likewise. The first Trial would be that of Skill, for which he would have to duel the Battlemaster. He did not know whether he would need to win, fight to a draw, outlast him over several hours, or what; such were the nature of the Trials, for a Jedi's readiness for Knighthood could not be measured by fixed criteria. But Zay was ready.

Kerrick Kre'fey brought his lightsaber down from overhead, and the duel was on.

To be continued...

OOC: Part 2 will come on Sunday, shortly after the Galactic Cup Final score is posted.

 

IC: Vesper Lynd
ELL Season Award Ceremony
Promenade Assembly Hall, Nar Shaddaa

For the first time in nearly a decade of award ceremonies, the Monarchs were only represented by one member, Vesper Lynd. In years past, the entire management team would join the organization’s nominees, and even some of the other players would make the journey. But after her recent contract negotiations, there was an unofficial ban of non-nominated Monarchs from the awards. So instead of sitting by herself she was invited to sit with her fellow Bakurans. As their names were called for their various awards she stood and cheered with the rest of the Miners.

When the Duchess Eldin was announced, she was sitting next to Falene, holding her hand. When Vesper’s name was read as the winner, the cousins stood up together and embraced one another, “You’ll get the Numifolis, just you watch Fae,” she whispered. Vesper then walked up to the podium and with a tear in her eye she accepts the award from the Commissioner.

Slowly she turns before the microphone and looks out into the crowded hall. “I don’t know what to say,” she swallows hard, trying to force the lump out of her throat, “After the season that we have all had, all the trials that every team have been through, it is a real treat to be granted this honor. Every one of us should remember that each time we get to strap on our cleats and pull those jerseys over our heads, it is an award in itself.” She looks down at the trophy in her hands and raises it up to the crowd, “This is for my teammates, my family, and all the Monarch fans that stuck by us this season.”

From the balcony section of the Hall there came a shout, “WE LOVE YOU VESPER!!!” When she looked up towards them she found a group holding a banner that read, MONARCHS FOR LIFE. Squinting against the lights she could tell that it was a group of her teammates that were holding their own protest by attending the awards as fans. A smile drew across her face as he responded back, “I love you, too. Thank you for the support.”

---

Galactic Cup Final, Owner’s Box
Six Boroughs Stadium, Nar Shaddaa

Vesper sat with her family, it was the first time since the Monarchs/Miners match that she had seen her full family together. This time though they were all together in the same room. To surprise them all she walked in wearing a Miners t-shirt on, “So who’s ready for some Galactic Cup Limmie?”

TAG: Trieste

 

IC: Kaitlyn Vehn
Galactic Cup Final, Owner's Box
Six Boroughs Stadium, Nar Shaddaa

The ELL Season Award Ceremony had left a bad taste in Kaitlyn's mouth. So bad that she swore not to attend next year if she was nominated. She felt that the voting had been a personal attack on the legacy she was building with the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers. Sure, she couldn't win all the time, but how about some of the time? One more Zumtak Award would have looked real nice in her trophy case at home. Oh, that's right, Kaitlyn didn't have a trophy case at home. She just hung the awards on the wall. Why didn't she have a trophy case? Because the Smugglers hadn't won any trophies worth keeping in the two years since she'd bought the team. No Commissioner's Trophy, certainly not the Galactic Cup Trophy, so yeah, that was pretty hard. All she had now was a reputation and a penchant for being a heavy hitter. But could anyone really take her seriously if she hadn't won the goods? No, probably not. And so the Zumtak Award had been a bit of a twist, a surprise, and maybe the league's way of punching her right in the gut, which she was sure that hitting a disabled person was a crime, somewhere, somehow. She'd had enough of surprises for one year. But surprises had not had enough of her.

When she got the invitation by the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, by her loose relation to the Trieste family, Kerry Trieste, to attend the Final at Six Boroughs, she knew that she had to go. Sure, it might've smelled fishy to some to see the owner of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers buddying up with the owner of the Miners on the eve of what could be another Miner Galactic Cup Victory, but Kaitlyn didn't really give a frak. The Triestes were family to her and had done right by her. The very least she could do was show up to watch the game. Besides, good public relations never hurt anyone and Kaitlyn was always on the look-out for a way to stay on top of the news circuit. You never know when the dog that was the media might actually turn out to be an obedient servant.

Kaitlyn felt strange showing up to Six Boroughs, the house that she built, to watch a rival potentially take home the glory. That stung a little bit though she would never tell anyone. How things had changed since that friendly game against the Miners to open up the season. The Smugglers simply hadn't done enough this year and the Miners had. So the draft loomed and Kaitlyn had a few tricks up her sleeve this year to get some quality talent for the squad that had been an almost-was. As in, almost good enough to make the playoffs.

Still, Kaitlyn could feel satisfied that Beskaryc Taab was probably moping about somewhere in a bar still stewing over the Mercs defeat at the hands of the Smugglers that had bumped the bucket-heads out of the playoff race. After the way Taab had fleeced Vehn in the 275 Draft, it was the least the team could to in order to uphold their dear owners honor.

There had been other changes in the weeks after the Smugglers season had come to a conclusion. Changes that Kaitlyn had been hiding, until now.

Kaitlyn Vehn was all smiles and looking as beautiful as ever as she entered the owner's box of Six Boroughs stadium, waved to the crowd who had seen her, waved to the Trieste and Vehn families who had gathered together to watch the Final, and waved to the galaxy.

She had every reason to smile today. Every reason to feel good about her life.

Today she had walked into the owner's box under her own power.

Tag: Trieste,Beskaryc Taab

 

IC: Ava Killenger
Thyferra Stadium at Byree Clearing, Thyferra

This was it, the home stretch of a LFL semifinal game between Commenor and Thyferra, the top seed in the championship bracket. Ava had been pushed around most of the day, but had for the most part held her own. She had scored a point over the bar and had assisted a goal by reserve Mala Bonero. The Selonian had cut inside on the taller Gundark defender, and Ava had skipped the shot in past the arms of another defender, who happened to be former CorTech teammate Britranny Gryner, to make a nice bounce pass. Bonero then burned the goalkeeper Tesam with a solid shot to the left corner to put the Force back on top after falling into an early hole. But that was all she had been able to do today in a solid effort defensively by Commenor.

The Gundarks went up by three on a goal that shot past Jam Tarpals with two minutes left. This put Thyferra on the spot to score and send this one to OT. Timeout was called, and Ava joined her teammates on the sideline. Jed Ortmeyer looked at his play call sheet. “We’re going to have two play calls out there. One regular play, and an overload package in case we find a weak spot in their defense. At about sixty seconds, we’re going to bring in extra forwards if we haven’t scored a goal. They’re going to give us all the bar points we can ask for, but we need three. They know that, we know it. Go for the goal, but don’t be afraid to punch it over for one. We can still tie this up.”

When play resumed, Ava found herself locked down by Britranny. The larger defender, who was her best friend at CorTech, knew her every move, and kept the rookie down on the field as often as possible.

“You never knew when to quit, did you?” Britranny asked as Ava tried to make a cut.

“Quitting’s not an option today,” Ava said as she was pushed back in line.

Time was ticking down. Ava’s mind raced; she had to make a play. In came the overload, but the Gundarks played it perfectly. Thirty seconds. She beat Britranny on a nice move and sprang free. But Ganlin Costa didn’t see her open as he struggled to get away from the Gundark pressure. Twenty seconds.

“Ball! Ball!” Ava yelled. Ganlin passed, but to Mala, not Ava. The crowd was getting very nervous now. Ava crossed the formation and finally received the ball. Ten seconds.

She cut around a Gundark defender and sprung loose. She had to pick her spot, and she made a decision. Skip shot to the right; Tesam had been favoring the left all day. Nice and low and away. She took her shot as a Gundark defender tried to maul her from the back. The ball skittered nicely, but then clanked off the side of the post and stayed away from the line. Tesam jumped on the ball and stayed there as time ran out and the horn blared. The Force had lost a heartbreaker, and Ava had missed what would have been the tying goal as regulation expired.

What happened over the next few minutes was a complete daze. Ava didn’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t want to say anything. Britranny said something in her ear, but the taunt that her former teammate also tossed in was by no means appreciated. It hurt to lose a game this way, hurt to have that last-second play and fail to deliver. In a season of lost opportunities, this was yet another reason for Ava to want to hide away somewhere and not come out again for a good long while. Why didn’t life ever give her a fair shake anymore?

The locker room was silent after the game. Everyone in there knew what they had just lost. They had failed to punch a ticket to Nar Shaddaa to play in the LFL Finals. It would have been quite a sight, getting to play at the New Six Boroughs in front of the entire galaxy. It would have been a chance to redeem themselves after the horrendous 274 campaign that had seen the complete overhaul of the roster. But none of that was to be. All the team could do was wonder what could have been. Some teams thought playing for third place was a win. But for the 275 Thyferra Force, third place, after the season they had, meant nothing. It had been Final or bust after that campaign, and they hadn’t gotten there. Even a win in a meaningless consolation game wouldn’t get the bitter taste out of their mouths. It would be just that; meaningless. No award, no recognition, just a useless loss in what could have been a special season.

And then she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at Jed. “Not your best game,” he said.

“Don’t need to tell me that,” Ava spat as she looked at the ground.

“Rook, it’s a tough game. You didn’t look your best out there, but no one did. We lost that game because they were better. But look at the bright side. We still have one more game to play.”

“Doesn’t mean anything,” Ava said, still looking at the ground.


“Doesn’t mean anything? I thought you wanted another chance to prove yourself. For a woman who wants to show that she belongs in the Elite League next season, you’re doing a poor job of looking like you want chances. Take next week in stride, Killenger. We screwed up now, so get over it and play well next week. With the title out of the picture, it’s your chance to play for yourself. A chance to maybe punch your ticket to Coruscant next season if all breaks well. Who knows? You might impress a few people in the process.” And then he walked away, leaving Ava in her disappointment. Leave it to Jed to try and get her back on track in the cruelest, yet most level-headed, way possible. Either he was the worst coach you could have, or the best. That was still up for debate. But the only truths that Ava had right now was that she had screwed up her chance to play in the Final, and that there was a game next week. Another game to prove herself, or be beaten up, in. Another chance to prove herself worthy in this game.

TAG: No One