Star Wars OPEN Elite League Limmie

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IC: Kaitlyn Vehn​

Bakura Gardens, Smugglers 29, Miners 26​

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Some battles can hardly be put down into words. Some words would fail to properly justify the conflicts that swirl around a hotly contested limmie pitch. The clash of personalities, the clash of philosophies, the clash of two franchises who have been to the mountain top, felt the cold silver chalice of the Galactic Cup in their tired hands, been proclaimed champions of the sporting galaxy, been proclaimed the best ever.​

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Kaitlyn’s mind burned with the images of Falene Trieste and Kerry Trieste hoisting the Galactic Cup high above their heads as blue and gold confetti stormed down from Six Boroughs, from her stadium, the stadium that she had built with her own money and the stadium that she above anyone else wanted to anoint her franchise with a record tenth Galactic Cup. But those were dreams. Dreams of the heart, dreams of the soul, and dreams of a woman who had sniffed the playoffs but never actually been to the holy land.​

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The Bakura Miners knew all about winning the Galactic Cup.​

​

The Nar Shaddaa Smugglers could only remember through Meredith Chambers what that had felt like in 270 as no current member of the team had been with the squad during that miracle run, at least, no active starter.​

​

But such memories were in the past and belonged there.​

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Kaitlyn crossed her arms as the play on the pitch got incredibly physical. Mylessa McCloud had been put down by a hard tackle from Falene Trieste to start the game and the impact of that blow had really hurt the rookie who limped off the opening series only to return later and return the favor. Jayla Leed was looking good in the goal for the most part keeping the Miners to points above the bar but with​

Rodders in the active line-up that sort of offensive prevention was soon out the window as both teams grew tired and absolutely opened up salvo after salvo against one another.​

​

Erin Windreaver was having a hell of a day against veteran Alana Glencross as the two midfielders routinely battled for any edge over the other for the rights to the bolo-ball, for the rights to help their team put up additional points. At times, Reaver had an extra step or two on the aging player and that was what made the difference for the Smuggler offense as she sent the ball into the waiting hands of Vick McTodd who had seen with Lizbit Comstock an aggressiveness that could potentially open her up to some goals.​

​

By the half the score was 16-15, Miners lead.​

​

Kaitlyn hovered near the sidelines as she listened to Micjaa’s adjustments in the half after the team came out of the locker room. She liked to be near the players, to show that she supported them, even if she didn’t always understand Limmie strategy or tactics. What she did understand was personalities and her team, the squad that she had hand-picked, looked tired, and looked like if this game continued the way it had been that they were on the verge of losing it all.​

​

“Hey, I know you’re tired, I know,” Meredith consoled Jayla Leed after she’d let in a last second goal from Deenever. “I’ve played some real benders in my time. I know what you’re doing. You’re asking yourself if you can keep this up, if you can continue, if they’re going to find your weakness.Don’t even start, Jayla. Don’t let this get to your head. You stay focused, you stay fresh, and we’re going to win. Just hang in there, okay? Hang in there. You know how they play. You’ve seen the worst they can throw at you. Now you change the game, girl, you find that heart of passion in you and you change this frakking game!”​

​

Meredith gave Jayla a tap on the shoulder to buck her up. Jayla wiped the sweat from her brow and smashed her gloved hands together. She was ready. She could do this. Nothing could take this away from them.​

​

Kaitlyn knew she’d done the right thing by letting Dvorak go. Chambers had always had this ability to fire up the troops when necessary. That was why she had been so good at her position. So much winning three Galactic Cups had come from her charisma and eventual leadership. That was what the defensive unit had been lacking last season.​

​

She looked over at Tover who had John Huntington and the offensive unit clustered close. “Valerii thinks she has us beat. She’s over there on the sidelines knowing that if she just turns Trieste loose on us that we’re going to roll over and play dead. Spread the ball around more. Don’t just fire it to McCloud or McTodd. That means that the burden of the scoring is going to be on Gunn and Brousard.​

That’s fine. They won’t suspect that.”​

​

“You want us to be decoys?” McCloud asked.​

​

Tover nodded. “I want you guys to keep fighting hard but if the ball comes your way don’t take the open shot. Pass it to someone else and let them fire away. They’re getting chippy out there. This isn’t about the trophy anymore. This is about defending their title against an old nemesis. We know how to beat them. We were built to beat them. Now get to it!”​

​

Kaitlyn felt like she was being suffocated as she watched the fiercest battle of Limmie she had ever seen since taking over the team ensue. Nobody wanted this game to end. The fans were loving every minute and certainly got their credits worth as the game ticked away towards completion. The Smugglers would score and then the Miners would answer back. Nobody was giving ground and both teams looked as if this was the last game that they’d ever play.​

​

Thirty second left of regulation. The score was tied at 26. Kaitlyn held her breath. This was going to be close. Neither team wanted to yield to the other, after all, what happens when an immovable object meets an unstoppable force?​

​

As in so many close contests, what ultimately changed the game was a total fluke, a flub, a downright doozy. Eponette Tenardiel, the woman that some pundits had scathingly criticized Kaitlyn for not discovering on the Vertical City, simply was caught looking the wrong way on an accurate pass from Trieste.​

​

Pass intercepted by Reaver.​

​

Reaver took a hard hit to the knees by Glencross and on her way to the ground flicked the ball to Julius Winifred. Winifred dodged Wizmark and tossed the ball to Brousard. Gargova was ready and easily juked Vubbins. Grap took a jarring hit from McTodd leaving Brousard all alone with Comstock.​

​

The two had eyed one another up all game and so far Gargova had been unable to seal the win. Time was nearly expired. She needed to fire. She needed to pull the trigger. There could be no hesitation.​

Gargova started right, then left, and raised her arm back to fire a heater under the bar. Lizbit wasn’t fooled. She hadn’t played shut out Limmie, nearly 180 minutes worth, to crumble on a desperation heave from an aging veteran. Gargova saw a tight window as Lizbit came up to charge her out of the box. This was her chance. She contorted her body and threw a wobbly side-arm pass as Lizbit made contact. Brousard hit the ground and was delighted to see the ball roll gently into the net for three.​

​

Kaitlyn raised a fist in the air and roared with delight as the buzzer sounded.​

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Smugglers 29, Miners 26.​

​

She would never call the Bakura Miners the ‘evil empire’. That unholy curse was reserved for the Chandrila Patriots but nevermind all that, a win today felt damn good. She watched as the Smugglers players, grass, blood, and sweat stains on their road whites, filed into a line to shake hands with their rivals. Both sides looked absolutely beat. Nobody had really won today as the bleeding and the bruising had clearly taken its toll.​

​

“No, nay, never, no more!” The Smugglers players chanted as they gathered at midfield once the Old Whiskey Trophy was brought out.​

​

There was McCloud raising the trophy high above her head, whiskey spilling out all over her face.​

There was Tover Micjaa exchanging a pleasant handshake with Gaeriel Valerii: the two of them undoubtedly talking shop. Meredith Chambers and Alana Glencross gave one another a fierce embrace as only two old friends who’d battled to the ends of the galaxy could do. This all seemed right. Seeing two rivals recognizing one another for what they truly were: friends. In the end, Kaitlyn realized, the Smugglers and the Miners were two very classy organizations who respected one another even if their on the field rivalry didn’t always reflect those sentiments.​

​

Once more a song was taken up by the crowd. This one was sung by Smugglers and Mines fans alike. Everyone knew the lyrics. Everyone knew the words. Drinks were shared, stories were told, and the parties of both fans as they intermingled would go long into the night.​

​

Lars Steelhead was quite drunk, but absolutely delirious by the Smugglers win, when a tired Lizbit Comstock started to walk past him towards the locker room. Somehow he’d gotten the game ball.​

​

Maybe Brousard picked out Steelhead from the plethora of Smugglers fans. Maybe not. Regardless, he wanted to have a little chat with Comstock, the wunderkind goalie. He leaned over the railing, looking down towards the tunnel and yelled, “Hey Comstock!”​

​

Comstock turned and identified the voice.​

​

“Forget your game ball?” Lars taunted as he used his strength to crush the ball into a whimpering​

mass of escaping air.​

​

Comstock’s eyes went wide as she hurried into the tunnel.​

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Tag: Trieste (everything in the post was approved by the man himself)​

 

OOC: A Prelude to the Rim War



IC: Meredith Chambers-Vayne
The Blue Empress, Nar Shaddaa

“I’ve missed you, Polis. My how I love this song,” Meredith said as she gently gathered her husband’s hand to her own as they started to waltz about the dance floor.

“And I have missed you, my love,” Polis replied with a smile as the two former Limmie stars whizzed about the dance room carefully flirting with other couples in fine evening dress.

“We never get to see much of each other during the season,” Meredith said.

“Seems our teams are always headed in different directions,” Polis replied.

“Except for this week,” Meredith reminded her husband.

“Right,” Polis said feigning indifference. “You think Leed will play a good game?”

“She’s got me as her coach,” Meredith coolly replied.

“I know all her weak points,” Polis said as their feet carried them to someplace else, someplace special. The rest of the people in the crowd seemed to fade away. It was only the two of them as it should be. Once more they were rivals. Once more their competitive natures were coming out in anticipation of the Rim War, that annual duel between the Senators and the Smugglers. Gone were husband and wife. In their place were the stars of the pitch that had once awed their respective fan bases.

Meredith smiled and whispered in Polis’s ear, “I also know how you like to attack.”

“Do you?”

“A strike from the corner probably from Qorbus, a fierce push up the middle from Renhorn , and then some chippy defensive play near the box by Gamble. Qorbus gets a little aggressive and can be careless with the ball,” Meredith pointed out.

Polis nearly dropped Meredith as they spun about the room. He looked annoyed. “How do you know that?”

“Because, my love,” Meredith teased, “I know you.”

“Then I might like to remind you that typically you like to have Leed play from inside the net so she has better field of vision. That was your chosen stance as well. That way a good goalie can control how the shot comes and that keeps the defense from knowing her hand before she strikes. And now that you’re defensive coordinator for the Smugglers I see that you’ve worked hard at making sure that Wilhulf Nexrus, Ken Zetter, and Zen Keisel play physical with the opponent’s offense. Being to being coverage. I think your defense loves to pop balls loose from time to time. Hit them low, strike them high, that sort of thing,” Polis countered.

Meredith nearly missed her step as she collected herself, “I see you’ve been studying. I’m not in the zone tonight.”

“You don’t like zones,” Polis reminded his wife.

“Get out of my head, Polis,” Meredith replied in a lowered voice. She knew that he knew that she didn’t like zone coverage. She felt it weakened the team, kept the passing lanes open. “Besides, I know how Styles and Matsoto strike and there’s nothing there I haven’t seen before. If you intend to use them in a modified ‘anvil’ attack pattern at least know that they can’t hit the higher percentage shots from up close.”

“You’re always doing that!” Polis complained.

“Doing what?” Meredith asked but she knew the answer.

“Figuring out my game-plan before we even play!” Polis grumbled.

“So after the ‘anvil’ are you moving to a classic press or the good ole ‘hydrospanner’ attack?” Meredith teased.

“Would you stop?” Polis cried out as he jerked Meredith awkwardly across the floor.

“I will not!” Meredith protested as she took the lead in the dance guiding them the other direction.

“I’m supposed to lead, Meredith!”

“Right like the time that your team led in the 269 playoffs and one of our guys laid a hit on you which might I remind you didn’t hurt you at all and that forced the refs to call an injury timeout? Yeah, that break right there absolutely threw off our defense and allowed you to win the game on a dirty play,” Meredith said.

“So I faked being hurt! Would you let that go?” Polis groaned.

“You went for my knees, Polis!” Meredith shouted.

“I was playing the frakking game the way it had to be played!” Polis yelled.

The other couples stopped dancing and stared at the two Limmie stars. The music stopped.

Both Polis and Meredith turned to the crowd and yelled, “Mind your business!”

The music resumed.

Polis and Meredith danced quietly for a few more minutes as they both remained tight-lipped, their faces taut with frustration. Neither of them wanted to admit that every-time they fought, well, they fought to a tie. Nobody won. Nobody ever won when their competitive edges got the better of them. That was evident in their professional careers as well. They were better together than they were apart.

“I’m sorry!” They both blurted out in unison.

Then they laughed.

Meredith leaned into Polis and drowned herself in his scent. She pulled him close and then kissed him lightly on the lips. “I see we caused quite a stir.”

“That we did,” Polis said as he held Meredith tight.

“Sorry I had to dredge up that stupid game,” Meredith complained.

“That’s okay. I’m sorry that I hit you below the knees. I think somebody pushed me from behind,” Polis said gently.

“Yeah, I seem to remember that as well,” Meredith frowned.

“If it makes you feel any better we ended up losing the Final that year to Vandelhelm,” Polis said in a slightly sadder voice.

Meredith stroked her husband’s face and replied, “Seeing you lose never makes me feel better, Polis. Besides, I kicked their asses for you the next year.”

Both laughed at that. Vandelhelm had been absolutely owned by Nar Shaddaa in 270 and then Bakura the following year. There was some pleasant feelings about that particular notion.

“You’re such a tiger,” Polis said as he kissed Meredith again.

“I’m your tiger,” Meredith purred.

“This week has got the better of us I’m afraid,” Polis admitted.

“Stirred up old hatreds,” Meredith replied.

“That’s the Rim War for you,” Polis observed.

Meredith gazed into Polis’s eyes and replied, “Whoever wins doesn’t matter to me. All that matters to me is that I love you deeply: except when we play one another in the Rim War.”

Polis brought Meredith to him and said, “The feeling is mutual, my love, absolutely mutual.”

Tag: Jedi Gunny (permission to use Polis Vayne granted by Gunny)

 

IC: Christine Gamble
Coruscant, Team Shuttle

Christine looked at the chrono on the wall. It read the time that the shuttle was supposed to take off for Nar Shaddaa, and she buckled herself into her seat for takeoff. She had spent the last day off to clear her mind, to try and not worry about the upcoming game against the Smugglers. The home team was coming in at 3-0, but the Senators were 1-2 and listing. The whole ship could go down with more losses, so they needed a win this week. If they didn’t . . . the playoffs seemed almost like an impossibility.

Then a message came over the speaker system. “This is you captain speaking. We are experiencing a wait time for team members, so please hold tight. It won’t be long.”

“Geez, who’s late this time?” Gayla Renhorn asked. “I swear, there is always someone who can’t get their ass in gear to show up a few minutes early.”

“Won’t be much of a problem,” Tank Bratter, who was sitting nearby, said. “Should be a few minutes, and no more.”

But the Herglic was wrong. Ten minutes passed, twenty minutes, thirty minutes passed, and yet they weren’t moving.

“OK, who’s trying to get left behind?” Gayla asked.

“Why are you complaining?” someone finally said. “The less time we spend on that trash heap, the better.”

Another half hour went by as the team sat around in silence. Finally the distinctive bleached blonde hair of Adanna Inviere poked into the seating area. “Listen up, everyone,” she said. All eyes turned to face her. “We’re finally taking off.”

“About time,” Gayla said.

“However, I don’t like having to leave,” Adanna replied. “We’re still missing someone.” Now everyone wanted to know who was missing. They looked at each other, taking inventory. Perhaps the person in question was in the practice facility? Or the refresher? “We’re missing our illustrious GM.”

That sent a shockwave throughout the room. Gark S’rily hadn’t shown up for the flight? That was the last being they thought would be late, let alone not show up at all. The Bothan was always so full of exuberance, and showed up early. But now he wasn’t here.

“Since we’re already an hour behind schedule, I’m going to tell the pilots to take off,” Adanna said. “Also, for the time being, since nothing has been heard from him . . . I will be your acting General Manager until he returns to duty. I would say ‘enjoy the flight’, but that seems a little cheery for this situation.” She left the room, the entire group unsure of what was going on.

Christine sat in her seat, stunned. Gark hadn’t shown up for the flight? That wasn’t like him. Of course, he hadn’t been himself all season long so far. In that Agamar game, he had seemed so out of sorts, like there was something more than Limmie that was bothering him. Maybe he was at home trying to work out his personal problems, Christine thought. Either that, or he just plain forgot. He likely would show up when they got to Nar Shaddaa. No big deal.

---

Only problem was, Gark never showed up. The team went through its practices without the defensive coordinator, and now Dirxx Horstse was the interim D-cord. The Besalisk had never had that much responsibility as a coach, and it had been a rough week while he struggled to adjust to calling the plays. He had been a natural as a player, but coaching was different. He had gotten so used to the half back positional coaching that he forgot how to run an entire defense, especially one without his old backfield mates who made his life as a captain easier when they were all still playing. Christine had tried to help him out, but it was a difficult time.

Now they were here at New Six Boroughs Stadium for the first time, without the plucky Bothan who had put this team together and coached them. Facing down a rough and tumble Smuggler squad, Christine took a deep breath as she went into the huddle before the game. She had never faced off against the Smugglers before. Since last season had been her rookie year, and the conference difference had forced these two teams to not play last season, this was her first taste of the Rim War.

She had heard stories about this rivalry. It wasn’t called a ‘War’ for nothing. Players were bruised and battered at the end of games, penalties were numerous, and punches were close to being thrown both on the field and in the stands. The Smuggler faithful were loud and drunk as she had always heard they were, but unlike Agamar, this place seemed to have major hatred for their opponents in the road grays. This was a rivalry that had seen the best and worst of both teams. Polis Vayne, who now stood with his forwards in the offensive huddle, had once punched Meredith Chambers in the face in a Rim War and knocked her out cold. If that summed this game up in a nutshell, Christine felt even less secure about her predicament.

She looked at her fellow starters. Myles had been here before, as had Reid, Tank, Reena, Zoom. They all had experience with this Smuggler team, but she didn’t. On offense, the storyline was going to be seeing how Jayla Leed, who once had Christine’s back in the net for Coruscant, would do against old teammates Sorcha Styles and Arkan Matsoto, who had lit a fire underneath the Senator offense and was helping them run more smoothly than the end of the last season. But the biggest question was how Christine herself would do against the Smuggler attack. She had Vick McTodd against her, the Amaran proving that he was a star despite being a third-round selection in his draft year. And he was a good one, so her hands would be full in this game. Reid was going to tangle with Lerouex, who the Senators had a chance to pick up in the second round of the previous draft, but had passed on in favor of Vail Pin. It wasn’t like Pin was a terrible forward, but Lerouex was looking good in her second season. The corner tandem for the Senators was going to have a rough go of this one.

“Hit them hard, and break their teeth if you can,” Shayt Contar said to the corners in an earlier position meeting. The former corner back knew what she was talking about; she had been a big hitter in her time playing, and to stop the Smugglers, the Senators would have to get physical.


As Christine settled into her spot on the field, she took a deep breath, and instantly wanted to hurl it out. It smelled of sweaty bodies, stale beer, and rotting garbage. Just the kinds of smells she found the most revolting. And, yet, somehow it smelled like Limmie. This was Six Boroughs, and this was the Rim War. Despite all the cheap beer and drunken fans, this game was still a piece of history in itself. It was another installment of the Rim War, and Christine knew she would have to play well in order for the Senators to walk away with a win.

TAG: Vehn

 

IC: Tim Dodd - Memorial Oval Stadium, Calna Muun

Tim paused at the end of the Home Team's tunnel when he heard voices. Ah, yes, a school tour was on today's schedule, being taken round and 'educated' by the Head Groundskeeper. Well, the old man was always worth listening to, and after the disaster that was the C-Bucs' game he could do with some light relief. Sitting down on a conveniently situated chair, he settled in to listen.

"Gather round, youn'guns! This here's the Agamar Memorial Oval, not like yer didn't know already! On the books, I'm down as Head Groundsman or some such, but the family've always called ourselves Turftenders. That's what we really do. Sidd Sodd's the name - Auld Sodd's what the young whippersnappers call me behind my back; thinking I don't know! Fact is my father was 'Auld Sodd' before me, and his father before him; right back to the first of us! The Sodds have always been Turftenders, even before Limmie came to Agamar. When it's my time to go, I'll be put under the turf I've tended, got a nice patch picked out in the Old Memorial Stadium that'll be cut and lifted before they pull it down.

Be a pity to see that old girl go, lots of history in her, not like this 'un, not yet awhile. This un's solid though, when we Agamarians set out to build something it stays built!

Old Memorial Stadium was put up not long after Tondatha. Would have been a Shopping Mall for Tondatha and the suburb the Council was thinking of building back then; still thinking of new homes out that way now; but the Old Memorial Stadium's site's going to be rebuilt as a school, I hear tell. Well, after so many games of Limmie the ground should be well used to noise and folks running about!

I started at Old Memorial Stadium soon as I finished with school. My first job? That would have been cleaning up after the Neo-Sith mess. Resistance Militia trapped a pair of them in there. No, I don't know any of them and they're best not talked about much; heard tell they've a habit of leaving heads about as warnings, if yer catch my drift!

Anyways, them two Neo-Sith thought they could hide out in the Stadium 'til the fuss died down and they could sneak off-world. Didn't know, didn't bother they'selves to find out, about the Grav Projectors in parts of the Stadium. Resistance Militia turned them on on 'em; same as happened with the Scarheads and their lackeys way back then; only this time they turned 'em all the way up! 25 Standard Gravities's what I got told they put out. Them Neo-Sith didn't know what'd hit 'em and their Force didn't help 'em against that!

We had to scrape 'em off the floor with shovels, then finish up with mops! Took most of the day, as I recall. Don't believe me? Council've got their Lightsabers in one of their vaults! Very oval they was when they was found and didn't work no more - I know, I tried both of 'em!

Do they have Grav Projectors in this 'un? Don't know myself, but best assume there are. That means don't cause trouble in here, just in case!"

Tim couldn't stop himself from smiling broadly and chuckling quietly to himself as the old man led his tour group away, probably to show them how the Limmie goals folded backwards into pre-cut slots in the ground as they would do for TenGate matches. Unlike the old man, he'd been involved with every stage of the planning and knew exactly what had, and what hadn't, been built into this Stadium. Even so, the old man had given good advice; very good advice indeed!

Now wouldn't that be a pretty prank to play on those Starkillers, come the weekend? Not possible, though, the League most definitely wouldn't like it! And, after all, their new owner had got rid of that posturing loudmouth!

Good humour and enthusiasm restored, Tim turned and headed back to the Management Offices to see what gameplan Asyr and Dorf had come up with.


TAG: No One - Indirectly Runjedirun

 

OOC: This post came out WAY longer than I had planned, so you might want to grab a snack before you dive in. A lot of stuff is covered here, relevant to both the LFL and the ELL.

IC: Zay Antilles
Location: Archer's Point, Bestine, Tatooine
Time: LFL season-opening game between Sandskimmers and Gundarks

Zay munched on his nachos as he pondered recent events. Rondy Bassell had escaped from prison—again. Last time, his army had put on quite the production, staging a massive attack that cause significant damage to the facility and sprung a couple dozen or so other prisoners as distraction. This time, he seemed to have disappeared into thin air; none of the guards even knew he was gone until he turned up missing on a routine cell check. Every security camera in the maximum-security prison had mysteriously failed at once, leaving everyone perplexed as to what had happened.

When the escape had occurred, two weeks earlier, Zay and his Master were on another mission, playing peacekeepers in a tense disagreement between two Rim planets. Out of nowhere, two Masters has shown up, taken over the mission, and ordered Palla and Zay back to the Temple. When Palla inquired about what was going on, one of the Masters put it thus: "Bassell escaped." That was it; two words were enough. Zay hightailed it back to their shuttle so fast that he almost had the thing airborne before Palla was onboard, and they made it back to the Temple on Ossus in record time.

After being briefed and several days of intensive investigating, they were left with the feeling that something was going on way out on Tatooine. Exactly what, they weren't sure, but it was a strong enough feeling to investigate in person, and the chase had led them to the city of Bestine. How convenient that the Storm's farm team is in town, thought Zay.

The game kicked off with the Gundarks in the classic formation. Zay had noticed that the program had said nothing about the new formation named after him, and wondered if the Gundarks would use it. Four minutes into the game, full forward Jalin Mioree got open deep in Sandskimmer territory, and Tuzralli nailed her with a bullet from midfield. The Sandskimmer keeper was slow to react, and Mioree buried a drop-kick rocket into the back of the net. 3–0, Gundarks.

The next few minutes saw the ball going back and forth in the middle of the field, neither team being able to keep possession for long. With less than a minute remaining in the first quarter, Amira Lansford launched a punt from the half forward line, and it sailed through the uprights for a 4–0 Gundark lead. That was the score when the whistle blew to end the first period.

The Sandskimmers got the ball to start the second quarter, and wasted no time in setting up a shot on goal, which Gers Tesam managed to deflect over the bar for a single point. As the ball was punted back into play, Zay suddenly sensed that he was being watched. He nudged his Master and signaled with his eyes, and she nodded her head. Years of working together in the field allowed them to communicate without words, to understand exactly what it was the other was trying to get across. That synergy was incredibly useful at times like this, when they needed to make a plan without their target figuring out what they were going to do.

Zay casually got up from his aisle seat, carrying his empty nacho tray. To any observer, he looked like he was just heading for a trash can, or to get more nachos. But Zay had zeroed in through the Force on the person watching him. Walking up the stairs, he deposited his nacho tray in a trash can, then walked past his stalker. The stalker, for his part, ignored Zay and continued watching where he had been sitting, stifling a giggle. Zay looked back and saw that his Master had spilled her drink, and then made it worse by slipping and falling in the resulting icy puddle. With Palla drawing the attention of everyone in the vicinity, Zay was free to sneak up behind the stalker. Placing his left hand inside his Storm jersey, where his lightsaber was hidden, he tapped the stalker on his shoulder with his right hand.

"AH!!" the stalker said abruptly. Clearly, Zay had caught him off-guard.

Keeping his hand on his lightsaber, Zay got right to the point. "Why are you watching us?"

"I was trying to figure out if that was you guys down there. And couldn't you have used your, you know, real hand to tap me? That metal stuff gives me goosebumps."

Zay looked at his artificial hand; he had lost the original nearly a year ago in an accident during his first attempt at the Trials of Knighthood. The Order had offered to give him a replacement that looked and felt identical to a flesh-and-blood arm, but Zay had refused, insisting on a simple metal arm. After the incident had nearly driven him to suicide, he wanted a permanent, tangible reminder of what had happened, that no matter the situation, things could always be worse.

Now he mentally chastised himself for using that hand. As a Jedi, he was trained to not let stuff like that bother him, but ordinary folk could and often would be creeped out by someone touching them with a clearly artificial appendage. "Sorry, I'm still not used to it," he said. "What do you want with us?"

"Get your Master and I'll explain."

Zay signaled to Palla, and she came up the stairs. A loud cheer went up from the home crowd, and Zay glanced down at the field to see the referee signaling a Sandskimmer goal and three Gundarks in his face arguing with him. Putting the game out of his mind for the moment, he followed the stalker into the concourse, watching carefully for signs of a trap.

There wasn't one, though. The stalker stopped in a quiet corner and finally identified himself as the informant that had tipped them off to the attack on the Mercs game and to Bassell's safe house location last year.

"So that was you," Palla said.

"Yes," said the informant.

"Obviously, you actively sought us out here today," said Zay, "so obviously you have something important for us. What is it?"

"I don't have hard data on this, but I have a strong suspicion that Bassell's home base is in the Unknown Regions, probably in the northwestern part of the galaxy. I don't know exactly where, though."

"Hmm. That's nice to know, but it doesn't do us much good," said Zay. "We could literally spend years scouring the Unknown Regions without finding it. Most of it's still unmapped."

"Well," said the informant, "there's a possible way for you to find out for sure." Both Palla and Zay perked up. "My source within the organization says that they plan to attack the Boonta Eve Classic, three days from now. It's supposed to be a small group, traveling in a single freighter. My source tells me that they're getting overconfident and not erasing the data from their navicomputers as often as they should. If you could capture their ship—"

"—we could look at the data and pinpoint where they're coming from!" finished Zay, excited.

"Exactly."

Palla smiled, and Zay knew that like himself, she was willing to trust this informant, as his tips in the past had proven accurate. Exchanging a few brief words, Palla obtained the informant's comlink code, so that they could contact him in the future for the latest inside information.

As the Jedi began to part ways, the informant stopped them. "There is... one more thing."

"What?" asked Palla. Zay detected a hint of fear in the informant's voice.

"Be... careful," said the informant, hesitating as he spoke. "I have seen... signs... unsettling signs."

The informant paused for several seconds, and Palla prompted him to continue. "What kind of signs?"

The informant took a deep breath before continuing. "I think that dark forces are at work, more so than he has shown."

Palla and Zay looked at each other. "What kind of 'dark forces'?" asked Zay.

"I... I don't want to talk about it."

Now the fear in his voice was obvious, even to an untrained person. Zay looked at his Master. "Bassell said something about the Sith the last time he was arrested."

Palla tried to press for more information, but the informant was visibly scared and refused to say anything else. Finally the informant simply turned and quickly walked away.

The two Jedi stared at each other. Finally, Zay spoke. "I don't like this."

"Neither do I," replied Palla. "Let's try to relax by watching the rest of the game. Maybe then we can figure out how to proceed."

They returned to their seats to find play stopped for an injury. Zay noticed that the scoreboard said 6–1 Gundarks. He turned to the fan beside him. "I had to step away for a moment. What happened to the Tatooine goal?"

"The Gundarks challenged it, and the ref overturned it on review," she said. "He said it didn't completely cross the line."

"Okay, thanks."

Zay settled in to watch the game. The Gundarks put up one more point before halftime, making it 7–1 entering the locker room. When the teams took the field to start the second half, Zay realized that the Gundarks had shifted to the Antilles Formation. "Why'd they have to call it that?" Zay wondered out loud.

"Because some guy named Antilles created it," said the fan next to him.

"Well, obviously. I just don't like the name."

"Why?"

"Because Antilles is just too common of a last name," Zay lied. "It doesn't mesh well with an unusual and unique formation." The truth was that, as a Jedi, he had simply grown uncomfortable with having it named after himself. But the lady next to him clearly didn't know who he was, so he wasn't about to identify himself by saying so.

"You have a point YEAAAAHHHhaaaawwwww."

As she was responding, the Sandskimmer full forward had broken free with the ball and gotten one-on-one with Tesam. A rocket shot from the forward's arm had barely been deflected into the air by Tesam; as the ball came down, Tesam had leaped the highest and secured the ball.

"So close," she said. "You guys have a great young keeper there. Too bad Chenkabukk has the position locked down on Euceron."

"Yeah, I'd like to see what Tesam could do at the Elite level. He got called up after the shooting last season, but barely saw any playing time."

Zay turned back to the field as Lorill Nay'vel took a pass in front of the Sandskimmer goal and slipped it past the keeper's outstretched hands, and the ball rolled in for three more. Zay clapped politely, aware that he was in the other team's stadium.

"Nice goal," said the lady. "Yeah, about that shooting. How ridiculous that they stepped up the security for the game and even brought in two Jedi, and they still couldn't stop it? I mean, two Jedi couldn't stop them from killing six players? Sometimes I wonder why the Jedi even exist."

Zay leaned back in his seat, unsure of how to respond. He glanced at Palla, who leaned forward and spoke to the lady. "Ma'am, the Jedi are not infallible. My apprentice here that you've been talking to and I are the two Jedi that were brought in that day."

The lady's jaw dropped. "Okay then," she said after a moment. "Forgive me for being blunt, but what in the Five Fire Rings of Fornax happened to you?"

"Bassell is someone that we've dealt with before. He's a terrorist leader that has escaped prison twice. At the time, his trademark method of attacks on large events like a limmie game was bombing. Everyone was on the lookout for a bomb. He played into that. After the game was over, after all the fans and even the Mercs had left, an intruder got in and left a suspicious package. That intruder was wearing the logo of Bassell's organization."

"And you went to deal with that, and evacuated the team—"

"And the team was attacked in the parking lot. Yes. It was something we hadn't considered. Through warnings and intelligence we had received before the game, we believed that Bassell was looking for maximum casualties, as was the case with his previous attacks. We expected any attack to occur during the game, when the stadium was full. Once everyone had left, most of the extra security and some of the regulars went home, because we believed that the show of force had scared him off. So we didn't have enough security on hand to repel the attack in the parking lot, and of course the intruder drew us to the complete opposite side of the stadium.

"I'd like to point out that you have Zay here to thank for the fact that more people weren't killed. He realized what was happening first, and got out there to drive off the attackers as they were starting to kill the wounded point-blank. Without us, the whole team could have been killed. We can only do our best, but our best isn't always enough."

The lady nodded her head and leaned back, clearly thinking about what Palla had said. Perhaps she'll have a new view of the Jedi after this, thought Zay.

As the fourth quarter got underway, she finally responded. "Yeah, I guess I can see how you were fooled. I probably would have been fooled too. But you're Zay? As in Zay Antilles, architect of the Antilles Formation?"

Zay sighed, slumped his shoulders, and rolled his eyes at his Master as if to say a sarcastic thanks.

"Get used to it, Zay," said Palla.

Zay took a deep breath. "Okay, the true reason I don't like the name is that I'm uncomfortable with my name being used in such a prominent fashion. We're taught as Jedi to be humble and not seek fame or glory, and yet here's my name all over the sports news."

"Then why did you create the formation in the first place? Why not leave it to the coaches?"

"You want the short answer or the long answer?"

"Both."

"The short answer is that I blame Haron Orus. As for the long answer, because I was present at the meeting for security. Remember that this was just days after the attack. We didn't know if he was going to attack again or what form a subsequent attack would take, so everyone was on high alert, and that meant having security everywhere and Jedi where the most important people were. Haron asked the coaches and players in the meeting how to deal with having no full forwards or midfielders, and everyone was at a loss. He said he'd even take fan opinions and looked straight at me, putting me on the spot. So I offered my opinion, as requested. He liked it so much that he tagged it with my name without even asking, and I've been stuck with it ever since."

"That's interesting to hear it from that perspective. Well, I think this game's just about over."

Zay looked up at the scoreboard. It was now 12–2 Gundarks with less than two minutes left. Noticing the mass substitutions on both sides, Zay had to agree. "Yep, looks like a win for us. Nice talking to you," he said, offering his hand for a handshake, before realizing that he had offered his cybernetic arm.

The lady looked at it for a second, then grabbed it and shook it anyway. "Aren't modern medicine and technology amazing?"

Zay grinned as he got up to leave. "Yep."

As they headed back to their ship, Zay thought back to what the informant had said at the end. If the Sith are truly involved in this, we could be in serious trouble.

---

IC: Wilrax Tunran IV
Time: One day after Week 3 games

To: Supreme Chancellor Kerry Trieste
From: Wilrax Tunran IV
Re: Miners–Storm, Week 4

I would like to cordially invite you and anyone else in your party to join me in the Storm owner's box this coming weekend for the Miners–Storm game. Mild temperatures and sunny skies are forecast for the game, and we expect to have the roof open for what will hopefully be a great game. Go Storm.

Sincerely,
Wilrax Tunran IV

TAG: Runjedirun for the Sandskimmers game, Trieste for the Miners game

 

IC: Ava Killenger
Thyferra Stadium at Byree Clearing

Swish!

The sound of a goal was a sweet one to Ava’s ears. The ball had finally snapped into the back of the net after leaving her hand, zooming past the Wookiee goalie for three points. Then she could feel herself being lifted into the air slightly by Zoobel Ra, the Whipid corner forward, in celebration.

The crowd roared for the goal, but the noise was sweeter for the second-year forward. She was doing well in this game, having also put in two bar points earlier. But to a player looking to just finish the season and move onto next year, this was a good way to get the campaign started. She was weaving between the Kashyyyk Ranger defenders almost at will, their sloppy tackles unable to slow her down as she cruised on by. This was a great game on all sides.

A few possessions later, she had the ball off a feed from Arienne Farfell. The Hapan midfielder, who had been a universally panned draft pick this past offseason, was proving her worth. She was dominating the middle of the field with midfield partner Mekmek, making plays, stopping the ball, and most importantly not backing down when a Wookiee came flying at her. That was the kind of composure that the coaching staff wanted to see.

Ava passed the ball off to Ganlin Costa, who was immediately overwhelmed by his matchup. He passed the ball out to Alex Renhorn, who had wheeled around to provide a safety valve option. Ava then ran a cross pattern across the field. “Pass! Pass!” she yelled when she realized thart her defender lost track of her on this motion and was caught by Ra as he went the opposite way on the field. Renhorn passed her the ball, and Ava took it up the gut. The full back slipped, and now it was just the goalie to go. Ava thought about punting the ball over the bar for a point, but with the Force up big with about ten minutes left in the game, she might as well put a statement on this whole affair. Sending out a low line drive kick, the ball thumped into the chest of the Wookiee and bounced off, but Ava was there to collect the rebound and kick the ball into the back of the net for three.

When all was said and done, the Force walked away with a 27-9 home victory over the Rangers. It had been a dominating performance from all sides of the Force team. The offense, besides, Ava, had gotten production from the other half forwards. Renhorn had put in three bar points, and Ynisse Zalt, the second-round pick this season, had scored five points in her first pro game. Even backup Caleeny Worgo had scored a goal in this game, proving that the team had some depth at the position.

On defense, the Rangers had pretty much been unable to do anything. Jam Tarpals, the Gungan goalie, had kept the Rangers from scoring all but three goals, with at least one of them coming off a lucky break when the ball bounced off the post instead of his hands and went straight to the Rangers’ full forward. Steen Roggers had looked good at corner, and the half backs had done their job. Jamee Meels, the Talz, was using his size to keep the Rangers honest, proving that he might be a good prospect for the Senators next season if he kept this up. Midfield was a similar story. Farfell and Mekmek had done more than enough to win, showing that they were no slouches at the position.

There were six games to go in the season, Ava knew, but to start off a new season with a resounding win like this was a great start. The Force were 1-0.

Then she found herself in front of a camera talking to a reporter. This hadn’t happened to her in a long time, so it felt odd that someone actually wanted to talk to her about a game. Obviously eight points on the day made her the star player, she thought. But she didn’t really focus on the questions being asked. For her, this was vindication for all her hard work. She answered as best she could, but her mind was off in the clouds now. It felt good to finally be recognized as a winner for once, and not as a loser down in the dumps. And that was the best feeling of all.

She walked off the field as the last smatterings of the two teams left as well. However, as she approached the team tunnel, she could see about thirty beings waving at her from the stands. They were a typical bunch of fans, some wearing jerseys, others Force t-shirts and related apparel. And the thing that tied them together were the pieces of flimsy and team store baubles they held in their hands.

“Autograph!” one shouted. The others clamored to try and be the first, in case Ava decided to actually sign something for them. She was tickled by this thought; someone actually wanted her autograph. More than the eight points and two goals she scored in the game, this probably made her day. She went over to the crowd and started to sign shirts, balls, hats, and even a pair of shorts. That was a little weird, she thought as she handed them back up into the crowd. Most of the fans left, but one more ball was stuck in her face from the stands above. Ava scribbled on the ball before handing it back up. However, she locked eyes with a little girl . . . the same little girl who she had signed an autograph for at the end of last season. The girl gave the Limmie player a wide grin before running back down the row of seats to where her father stood, ready to show him her new signed ball.

As she ran, Ava could catch a glimpse of the back of the jersey she wore. “KILLENGER" it read, with her number 18 below the name. Somehow, against the other competitors, that sight right there was the best one she could have hoped to see that day.


TAG: No One

 

IC: Kerry Trieste
Chancellor’s office, Coruscant
Two days after Week 3 games

The transition between Chancelleries had begun. Kerry Trieste still had a Republic to tend for a few more weeks, but it would soon be someone else’s problem. It was a refreshing thought. The Chancellor’s block of offices were in a state of disarray as replacements from the incoming chancellery arrived daily. Kerry was committed to a seamless transition and had ordered all executive staff to work as closely as possible with those who would come after them.

As a result, Kerry’s office was a mess. She did not like messes…but it would only be for a few more weeks so she could tolerate it. She barely had a moment alone these days. For this, she was supremely thankful for limmie. It was an excuse to get off Coruscant every weekend and away from the chaos.

Accordingly, Saldor Kann knew that the invitation from Wilrax Tunran, fourth of his name, would be a welcome one. He even interrupted the Chancellor’s meeting to deliver it. Kerry had barely been back in her office after returning from Bakura. “Forgive me, but I think you’ll want to see this, Chancellor,” the Ithorian said.

Kerry obligingly read the flimsi Saldor had printed. After she finished, she smiled at her guest.

“I have just had the most smashing opportunity presented to me. Would you care to join me on Euceron this weekend?” she asked.

---

Owner’s box, Euceron Stadium
Week 4 gameday

The Chancellor entered the box and greeted the elderly team owner. “Wilrax, how lovely to see you,” Kerry said. The pair had met several times at Board of Governors meetings when Aebett did not represent the Storm. The old man could make a decent argument when he chose to do so. Kerry respectfully kissed him on the cheek.

“I hope you won’t mind that I fully abused your invitation. Allow me to present the cavalcade that is my family, in no particular order. My son and daughter in-law, Senators Declan and Ayn Trieste. My sister, the Honorable Regan Eldred, Associate Justice of the Bakuran Supreme Court, her husband Atticus Eldred, esquire, their children Quentin and Patrixa. My sister Admiral Fiona Westenra, Superintendent of the Bakura Fleet Academy. My brother Ronan, his wife Mandy, their children Antrose, Jane Serena, and Enoch.”

They all greeted Wilrax as they were introduced. Ayn gave the old man a kindly kiss, Fiona her steely handshake born of gripping starfighter controls and conning the helm of capital ships.

“And let’s see, apologies from those absent. My sister, former Minister of State Siona Lynd, her husband Dr. Dorian Lynd, their children Vesper—I think you’re well acquainted with her—Ginnifer, and Cillian. Off with the Monarchs, as one would imagine.” Kerry was ticking them off with her fingers to keep track of them all. “My sister in-law Nessa, her children Elphaba and Alec. With the Patriots, so best they’re not here anyways. My niece Sierra, Chume’da traveling with the C-Bucs. Brother Oisin, his wife Verity, likely on Nar Shaddaa with Eleanor—recently married—and Austin. Their youngest daughter May studying on Naboo.” Kerry took a deep breath. “That’s everyone.”

“You forgot the cousins,” Regan said.

“But no one really cares about the cousins,” Mandy said slyly.

“Oh, of course, one more guest. Probably should have introduced him first. May I present Senator and Chancellor-elect Ekworth, late of Commenor?” Kerry said.

The Klatoonian entered the box with a smile. “Mr. Tunran, what a pleasure to be here. I’m a big Gundarks fan and they’ve done great things since partnering with the Storm. A pleasure to finally make it to Euceron Stadium in person,” he said, shaking Wilrax’s hand. The politician was wearing a bright blue and white pocket square to show his support for the home team. “A good Storm win today should put to doubt any rests that Chancellor Trieste’s time is coming to a close and a new era is beginning.”

“And we can all agree that’s a good thing,” Fiona said, “My sister has been insufferable for the last ten years.”

“I think we can all drink to that,” Ronan jested.

Kerry said nothing but smiled. Chancellor-elect Ekworth was right. She was not approaching an ending. She was coming to the beginning of a decidedly new era…


TAG: jcgoble3

 

IC: Wilrax Tunran IV
Location: Owner's box, Euceron Stadium, Eusebus, Euceron
Time: Week 4 game against Miners

Wilrax was overjoyed to have such a large number of people in the box with him for a game. Usually it was just him and one or two others, sometimes he was even alone in the box. So he was grateful for the company—even if they would be rooting for the other team.

He greeted each member of the family as they were introduced, knowing full well that he would never be able to keep their names straight. Indeed, by the time the last members were being introduced, he had already forgotten the name of the Bakuran appeals court justice... or was that Supreme Court? No matter; he could simply address her as "Justice".

Being that Euceron was an independent planet, Wilrax had not paid attention to the Republican elections, and so he was pleasantly surprised to learn that the Chancellor-elect was from the same planet as his development team. I wonder how this could be used to my advantage, he thought as he greeted Ekworth with a smile.

Wilrax pointed his guests in the direction of the food table, which, rather than the fancy stuff often found in luxury boxes, contained typical concession food such as nachos and the like. The amount of food on the table was wholly inadequate for the number of guests, though, and so he stabbed the intercom button with the end of his cane and told the person who answered to "get me triple the food you already brought, now." Ten minutes later, four workers brought eight large trays with more food that would hopefully last until halftime.

Wilrax made small talk with his guests while the teams warmed up on the field. He watched the Chancellor's daughter, Falene, in particular, watching as she harassed Niskat before knocking her pass to the turf. "Your daughter is quite the player," he said to Kerry. "I imagine the Senatorial Guard must have a hard time protecting her, especially when they can't be out on the field with her during a game. How do they do it, and how much do you think they'll be relieved when your time in office ends?"

A little later as the game was getting ready to start, Wilrax brought up another subject. "I've recently become a bit of a history buff. It's an appropriate pastime for an old man like me that can barely walk." He chuckled before continuing. "I understand that the Miners have quite the history. What were the early days of the Miners like? Were they successful early on, or did it take them a while to find success?"

TAG: Trieste

 

GM Post

What We Learned

Just a heads up. We're taking next week off. And apparently if we're not here the interns can't be trusted around things like sharp objects and office supplies. Hey, this isn't us saying this. It's our insurance company. Seriously. Yeah, our bosses don't believe us either.

Agamar Packers: Do you know why the Packers are such a fun team to watch? Because we literally never know what's going to happen with them. Score 40 points this week? Sure! Score 2 points the next week? Why not! We're on the edge of our seat every week to see what Agamar team shows up.

Bakura Miners: Miner fans are walking around in sack cloth in ashes not because they lost to Nar Shaddaa (again), but because Lizbit Comstock actually gave up goals this past week. "Oh woe is us! How will we go on in this strange new galaxy?!?!" Suck it up and try being every other limmie fan in the galaxy, you 150-year old wusses.

Chandrila Patriots: Suddenly, we're pretty sure it's the Patriots who never wanted to go down to Stoney End given the way they're playing in their home stadium as of late.

Corellia Rebels: No no no Rebels. You've suckered us in too many times before. Just because you beat the Patriots doesn't mean we're going to click our heels and believe in you just yet. Try beating a real team like...oh, hey, how about one of the undefeated teams in your conference? Have fun with that.

Coruscant Senators: Reports are that Gark S'rily did not make the trip to Nar Shaddaa this week. Right--because the home fans on Nar Shaddaa just going to love having a former Miner and Senator in charge of that team for this week's Rim War. Yup, that's going to make this week's game all warm and fuzzy.

Euceron Storm: Look, we're not saying that Corellia shouldn't have won the Skywalker Conference Championship game, but let's be honest: this is the game we all wanted to see in the Final last year. If the Antilles Formation shines against the Insanity Defense of the Miners, then we're buying the hype.

Hapes Consortium Buccaneers: Moira Mallory's new problem: she is not going to get to play the Rebels for every remaining game on her schedule. Upside: she's going to have to play the rest of the Solo Conference, which right now is looking like a very good thing.

Mando'ade Mercs: Mr. Owl, how many weeks does it take to get over Andres Fortune? One...two...three! Three.

Nar Shaddaa Smugglers: I'm pretty sure that Kaitlyn Vehn and Tover Micjaa had this exact discussion when she offered him the head coach job:
Kaitlyn: "The Nar Shaddaa Smugglers, pro limmie team. A team barely alive."
Tover: "Gentlebeings, we can rebuild them. We have the technology. We have the capacity to make the galaxy's first ten-time Galactic Cup champions. The Nar Shaddaa Smugglers will be that team. Better than they were before. Better...stronger...faster."
Kaitlyn: "They will be...the Six Billion Credit Smugglers."

Ralltiir Starkillers: Given the rocky start of Kaitlyn Vehn's helming the Smugglers, Ralltiir's 279 team should be pretty great. Hang in there Starkiller fans. You guys are going to be "The Bionic Limmie Team." Oh wait, that's not allowed per League rules. Darn. That spinoff would have been great.

Rydonni Prime Monarchs: We're fessing up--we're taking next week off because we need to go on a total bender because Setarcos's team is 2-1 and is, worst case scenario, going to walk out of interconference play at .500. Seriously, there should be a parade in Ryell for this given how the last few seasons have looked at this point in the season.

Ylesia Lightning: Wait!!! If we aren't here and the interns aren't here who's going to keep the figurative-but-almost-literal bonfire that is the shrine to Kasin hidden from the fire marshal?! And she's doing so well these days too! One of the interns let one of the candles go out and she let in 21 points. We can't let that happen again.

Seriously, we're not going to be in town next week. You're just going to have to be snarky on your own. Either that or go listen to those Power Ranking guys. They better not call the fire marshal about the Kasin Shrine. If they do, we're totally going to retaliate and steal their Kaitlyn Vehn posters.

TAG: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja jcgoble3 Jedi Gunny Runjedirun Tim Battershell Vehn

 

IC: Jacen Hunter
Back yard of the Hunter family household, outskirts of Keldabe, Mandalore.

Jacen bounced the bolo ball off the hard packed earth beneath his feet with a smile on his face. The Senators match up had ended just a few hours ago and the Mercs had finally come though with a win. Their first of the young season. Sure at 1-2 they still had a long hill to climb if they wanted to secure a playoff berth, but it was a long season. Jacen was confident that they could do it. Especially with the way they had played the Senators.

The Mercs offense, stymied in the first two games due to weak play from the full forward position had changed things up, running the offense through the half forward instead. The Senator's defense had gotten a heavy dose of the bulldozing style of Daryc. he alone scored more points this game (8) than the team had scored combined in their previous two! The corner forwards got involved too. Arock and mereel showed that they weren't rookie players anymore and used their speed to get behind the defense on play after play. Then for a change of pace the Mercs substituted in their their "furry front", Tsulkalu, Naughten and Rollko. The Sens seemed prepared for the Mercs to use their size to their advantage, but seemed incapable of stopping it. Especially with the way Vizsla kept them off balance by rotating the front line so often. It worked well for the Mercs as they tripled their point total from the first two games, maybe their offense had finally gotten on track.

On defense the Mercs relied on the steady play of wily veterans like the Hanson brothers and of course the hard hitting abilities of the Whipid K'Karlson to keep the Senators forwards at bay. They along with younger players like Patton and rookie fullback Lenny Jowa managed to help out the offense and keep the Senators down from the get go. It wasn't a spectacular performance by the defense, but it was enough. A workmanlike performance by the midfielders had also helped to transition the ball without turning it over too often though Mor'kesh only accumulated a few assists and but one turnover. Not his best game to be sure, but it was more than enough to get the Mercs off the schneid.

And so it was that Jacen was happy when his friend Ris'kah finally made her appearance in his back yard after the game had concluded. "Did you see Daryc?" she called out as soon as she came into view. Jacen bobbed his head enthusiastically, but his smile grew wider as he realized he had seen her coming this time and hadn't allowed her to sneak up on him as she often did. For her part she seemed to ignore that particular fact, but he continued on anyway.

"He was really wizard!" She approached more closely now and Jacen could see she had a holster hanging off of her belt today. "Yeah he was, so was Arock," she replied though she seemed rather bored, or maybe preoccupied. "They keep playing like this they have a real shot at the playoffs!" Risk'kah shook her head at that. "Way too early to be thinking about playoffs aruetii, so don't get ahead of yourself."

She turned and looked over at Jacen's house making sure his parents weren't watching, but as always they seemed to ignore him when he went outside to play. "Did you hear we get to host the finals too!" She looked back at him. "It would be so cool to see the Mercs play in the finals in front of all of us!"

"Whoa, calm down there. I can't recall the last time a finals team got to play host in the galactic Cup game. If anything the mand'alor jinxed any chance we have at a title this season." She shrugged. "If you believe in that sort of thing anyway."

Jacen shook his head quickly, almost violently from side to side. "No way!" he shouted. Ris'kah shushed him quickly and looked back at his house, her concern evident even without being able to see her face. "Would you be quiet!" she ordered. "I brought something to show you. But only if you can be responsible." Jacen covered his mouth with his hand. Just what had she brought?

That unspoken question was answered as she drew a small blaster from her holster. She immediately manipulated the weapon in a manner that was too quick for Jacen to see just what she had done. But whatever it was it had been locked "open" for lack of a better term. "It's clear...unloaded" she said plainly as she handed it to him, butt first. He took it gingerly, it was heavier than he expected and held it like he had seen so many actors in the holos, his finger on the trigger.

"Shab it all aruetii, don't you know anything?" He looked at her perplexed before handing the blaster back to her. "Keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to shoot." She shook her head. "shab, I see we are going to have to start at the beginning." She pulled back on a knob on the blaster and it snapped shut with an audible click. "C'mon, lets go somewhere more private so I can give you your first lesson." She put the blaster back in her holster and started to stalk off. Frightened for a moment, Jacen paused before curiosity got the better of him and he went off after her...

TAG: No one.

 

​

Mando'ade Mercs Injury report for week four (Host Chandrilla Patriots)

Jonathan Lieznam: Probable, Concussion

Mando'ade Mercs player transactions:

Mando'ade Mercs reassign Pella Lovenforth (human female) Full Forward to Concordia Crusaders (LFL)

Trieste

 

IC: Kerry Trieste
Storm owner's box, Euceron Stadium, Eusebus, Euceron

"A newly discovered love of history is never too late," Kerry said. She reflected that if Wilrax had access to organ replacement therapy like on Bakura, he would be entering only the last third of his life--and that was being conservative in the actuarial estimates. Then again, Kerry's parents had kicked off earlier than the average Bakurans so one could never take such things for granted. "I was a student of political science at university, so it comes somewhat naturally.

"There are really two beginnings to the Miners," Kerry said, taking her seat next Wilran, "The team was founded formally in the 40s, ABY, before the formation of the Elite League itself. Back then it was Team Bakura, solely made up of Bakuran citizens--Human and Kurtzen as many people forget. They competed for the Galactic Cup when it was a competition of planetary pride. They won a few Galactic Cups, but not for a long while. Bakura was coming out of its shell--though we still had a long way to go--and competing in bolo-ball was important in establishing the planet as a player in the galaxy.

"The first Prime Minister of Bakura from my family, Fionn Cormac Trieste, was Prime Minister in these early days. Not the earliest days, but still the early ones. I seem to recall that Team Bakura received no federal funding. I think that it was supported by corporate and individual donations. Perhaps that made the team odd, perhaps not. But it was a very patriotic thing for Bakurans back then. This was our team, made up of our citizens. That would change a little bit with time, but the ethos remained with the team until very recently. Up through Dana Roslyn's management we were still primarily a team of Bakurans. Now there's only...what...six Bakurans? Glencross, Falene, Rodders, Wizmark..." Kerry faltered.

"Ward," Ayn said from two seats over.

"He hasn't started yet," Declan said, "Strictly relief. Doesn't count."

"He's still on the team," Kerry said, "Ward. Deenever! Of course. How could I forget her? Let's see, that's one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Six starters and one prominent reserve on a fifteen person team. The Miners have come a long way, wouldn't you say?"

"The second beginning," Regan prompted gently.

"Yes. 156 ABY. The foundation of the Elite League. A lot of the planetary teams converted into professional franchises. Obviously it changed things quite a bit. I don't know how they convinced the teams to go from being non-profit to for-profit," Kerry said, "or the fans for that matter."

"Probably some galactic wave of small government, deregulation feeling," Ronan said. He didn't say it like it was a bad thing, just a fact.

"In any event, Team Bakura made the switch," Kerry said, "They chose to be the Miners in homage to the planet's origins as a mining colony under Deredith Arden. Obviously, things were different now. It was before we owned the team by a good 60 years, so I don't know what the management challenges were, but how the team did is a matter of record.

"After ten years we won a Galactic Cup with Bakura-style limmie. It was a Human and Kurtzen team. Oh the skies were wide and bright..." Kerry rhapsodized, "Six years later we did it again. Thirteen years later was the Miners' third Galactic Cup. In between there were lots of ups and downs, but three Galactic Cups in the League's first 30 seasons were impressive. Of course, it would take us another 40 years to win one again, but those early years the Miners would just come together to fire on all thrusters and when they did, that team would fly.

"I suppose when one looks at 120 years of Elite League history, I'd say that those early years weren't so bad," Kerry said with a smile, "How many seasons has this been for the Storm? Ten years? And two straight Skywalker Conference Championship Game appearances. Sounds like a familiar story...wouldn't you say?"

TAG: jcgoble3

 

OOC: Just a reminder that there were two questions in the last post; you only answered one.

IC: Wilrax Tunran IV
Location: Owner's box, Euceron Stadium, Eusebus, Euceron
Time: Week 4 game against Miners

"This is our twelfth season in the Elite League, actually. Still... yes, that does seem familiar." Wilrax allowed a smile to appear on his lips. He was silent for a couple of minutes as the planetary anthems were played, then he turned back to the Chancellor. "Familiar not only in regard to current events, but to the early days of the Storm as well. It was... let me see here..." Wilrax counted the seasons on his fingers, then continued, "in fact our tenth season of existence when we first won the Premiership. The thing is, we didn't start as a Premier League team. A lot of people are surprised to hear that the Storm were originally just a semi-professional team." Wilrax watched Kerry and others within his field of vision for reactions as he said this; some of them might already know that if they had studied up on their limmie history, but it would likely be news to many, if not all, of them.

Down on the field, a whistle blew, and the Miners put the ball in play. "The Storm had quite an interesting entrance to the world of limmie; in fact, we may have even been indirectly responsible for the bankruptcy of the first league we played in. But let's watch the game for now," suggested Wilrax. "The story of the Storm's first ten years can wait until halftime."

TAG: Trieste (for scores and then game post; I'm letting you call the action )

 

GM Post

It's the end of non-conference schedules and that's bonus rolls to Agamar, Bakura, Coruscant, Euceron, Mando'ade, Nar Shaddaa, and Ralltiir.

Week 4 Results
Coruscant Senators at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers (21-36)
Bakura Miners at Euceron Storm (36-34)
Chandrila Patriots at Mando’ade Mercs (31-38)
Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Ylesia Lightning (6-12)
Ralltiir Starkillers at Agamar Packers (38-31)
Hapes Consortium Buccaneers at Corellia Rebels (19-15)

---

276 ELL All-Star Game Ballot

Fill this out for both conferences, but do not vote for any of your own players. The ballot is due Sunday, February 23, which means you can wait for Week 5 scores if you are prepared to vote that day. I personally will be waiting for Week 5 scores to one more data point on all the players.

Goalkeeper:
Defender:
Defender:
Defender:
Midfielder:
Forward:
Forward:
Forward:

Nominees
Skywalker Conference
Head Coach
Asyr Kre'fey (Agamar Packers)
Tover Micjaa (Nar Shaddaa Smugglers)
Haron Orus (Euceron Storm)
Telena Perrette (Corellia Rebels)
Raakla To (Ylesia Lightning)
Adenn Vizsla (Mando'ade Mercs)
Goalkeeper
Chenkabukk (Euceron Storm)
Corvo Antilles (Corellia Rebels)
Mij Katan (Mando'ade Mercs)
Jayla Leed (Nar Shaddaa Smugglers)
Kasin Urdaaza (Ylesia Lightning)
Hohass Vesh (Agamar)
Defender
Chalporrin (Euceron Storm)
Chokazza (Yleisa Lightning)
Baraduc Fivvic (Agamar Packers)
Jase Hanson (Mando'ade Mercs)
"Killer" K'Karlson (Mando'ade Mercs)
Daven Morray (Euceron Storm)
Wilhuf Nexrus (Nar Shaddaa Smugglers)
Liddy Powe (Corellia Rebels)
Saba Raine (Agamar Packers)
Shahka (Ylesia Lightning)
Edvard Snart (Corellia Rebels)
Ken Zetter (Nar Shaddaa Smugglers)
Midfielder
Cachbarukh Clan Bakh'tor (Agamar Packers)
Clarisse (Euceron Storm)
Trina Horn (Corellia Rebels)
Argo Mor'kesh (Mando'ade Mercs)
Prya Tiin (Ylesia Lightning)
Erin Windreaver (Nar Shaddaa Smugglers)
Forward
Fu Arock (Mando'ade Mercs)
Gargova Brousard (Nar Shaddaa Smugglers)
Jeem Daryc (Mando'ade Mercs)
Mezgraf Foot (Agamar Packers)
Morto Goot (Agamar Packers)
Litan Kuna (Ylesia Lightning)
Mylessa McCloud (Nar Shaddaa Smugglers)
Drex Mumu (Corellia Rebels)
Niast Nan'lie (Euceron Storm)
Gemma Sal-Solo (Corellia Rebels)
Zoa Vra (Ylesia Lightning)
Asyel Yan'ii (Euceron Storm)

Solo Conference
Head Coach
Romo Benedict Crowley III (Rydonni Prime Monarchs)
Reina Kether (Chandrila Patriots)
Pamila Kor'the (Coruscant Senators)
Moira Mallory (Hapes Consortium Buccaneers)
Trey Till (Ralltiir Starkillers)
Gaeriel Valerii (Bakura Miners)
Goalkeeper*
Lizbit Comstock (Bakura Miners)
Abe Cynour (Rydonni Prime Monarchs)
Ziva Kender (Coruscant Senators)
Camille Montes (Hapes Consortium Buccaneers)
Keline Socken (Chandrila Patriots)
Defender
Ty Allin (Ralltiir Starkillers)
Domino Derval (Hapes Consortium Buccaneers)
Christine Gamble (Coruscant Senators)
Saicle Gekkgon (Chandrila Patriots)
Melina Havelock (Hapes Consortium Buccaneers)
Aley Helios (Rydonni Prime Monarchs)
Dev Poletin (Ralltiir Starkillers)
Cortina Shakalaka (Chandrila Patriots)
Bella Starr (Rydonni Prime Monarchs)
Miles Tormera (Coruscant Senators)
Falene Trieste (Bakura Miners)
Nelly Wizmark (Bakura Miners)
Midfielder
Alyda Hovechar (Ralltiir Starkillers)
Alana Glencross (Bakura Miners)
Bpa Mersac (Chandrila Patriots)
Alysha Romax (Coruscant Senators)
Cali Royd (Rydonni Prime Monarchs)
Honey Ryder (Hapes Consortium Buccaneers)
Forward
Shae Bellweather (Rydonni Prime Monarchs)
Niskat Deenever (Bakura Miners)
Flarn (Ralltiir Starkillers)
Lorem Ipsum (Chandrila Patriots)
Loren Jul (Ralltiir Starkillers)
Elebraith Kex (Chandrila Patriots)
Wai Lin (Hapes Consortium Buccaneers)
Vesper Lynd (Rydonni Prime Monarchs)
Tilly Masterson (Hapes Consortium Buccaneers)
Maximus Qorbus (Coruscant Senators)
Aron Rodders (Bakura Miners)
Sorcha Styles (Coruscant Senators)

*Ralltiir did not nominate a goalkeeper for the All-Star Game

Also, this year there's a little something special planned for the All-Star Game that's out of the ordinary. I don't know what it is, but I know it's coming.

TAG: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja jcgoble3 Jedi Gunny Runjedirun Tim Battershell Vehn

 

Sub-GM Post

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

Limmie Futures League
Week 2
Thyferra Force at Garqi Gunners (24–10)
Druckenwell Marksmen at Tatooine Sandskimmers (9–2)
Kashyyyk Rangers at Concordia Crusaders (18–25)
Commenor Gundarks at Byblos Red Wings (19–16)

TAG: Jedi Gunny Bardan_Jusik Vehn Runjedirun Tim Battershell CPL_Macja

 

IC: Kerry Trieste
Storm owner’s box, Euceron Stadium, Eusebus, Euceron

“Bankrupted your first League?” Kerry said, an eyebrow rocketing up as she looked at her fellow owner, “I hope we’ve ended that practice?”

The Storm scored at that moment off a Miners turnover in what was to be the first of many, many scores (especially goals) that would come in the game.

“You know,” Kerry said tapping the armrest of her chair as she thought, “I don’t rightly know if Team Bakura was a semi-professional team? No, probably not. After all, Team Coruscant paid Jipoly Numifolis quite highly to play for them. We were likely professional from the start.”

Just as quickly, the Miners went down to the other end of the field and scored themselves.

“I think you’re right, Wilrax,” Kerry said, “Further discussion should wait until halftime…”

This was going to be a game.

---

IC: Falene Trieste
Field level, Euceron Stadium, Eusebus, Euceron



The Antilles Formation shredded the Insanity Defense. Plain and simple—that’s what happened. Falene’s head was spinning. She couldn’t get a handle on how to react to the player positioning, movements, or set plays. She’d go left and someone in bright blue would go right. The few plays she made felt like incredible victories. That’s how badly the game was going.

Luckily, the Antilles Formation defense wasn’t able to handle the Bakuran assault at the opposite end of the field. It was a free-for-all on Chenkabukk, the usually solid goalkeeper, on the part of the Bakuran forwards. Zonko Lyriss was looking more integrated into the offense than before. Aron Rodders was doing his thing, standing tall and firing rockets. Niskat was ripping balls out of defender’s hands.

The difference was the play of Glencross today. With the midfield largely surrendered to the Miners when the ball was in one of the other ends, Alana had plenty of room to roam and work with the ball before she felt any pressure. From Falene’s point of view, leaving one of the dominant midfielders in the game uncovered for large swaths of time was usually not a good idea. When Alana got the ball, she had the time to kick pinpoint precision passes deep into the offensive zone, putting them right where her players could get them and not the Storm defenders. It was finesse, pure and simple. Though the Miners relied on a strong, aggressive attack in the offensive zone, Alana was playing an entirely different brand of limmie today—one where you beat the other team with skill. No matter whose hands she put the bolo-ball into, they were in a position to use a skill and make plays. Alana’s assists for the day had to be off the charts good. Her legs had always been her greatest asset (and that wasn’t just in the opinion of lots of gawking male fans) and today she was keeping the Miners in the game with them.

Falene knew that this game should be a runaway. The Miners should be slaughtering the Storm putting up this many points. The defense was letting the team down today and Falene was part of that. She wasn’t handling…whoever that Storm player was she was hypothetically paired with. This Antilles Formation made it nearly impossible to tell who was whom out there. All she knew was that it felt like every time she was about to stop them, they stormed by her.

The coach who had come before Gaeriel Valerii, Big John Talley, had made his bread and butter with his infamous “halftime adjustment.” He believed that by the end of the first half, he’d seen everything there was to see out of the other team and he adjusted accordingly. Gaeriel Valerii had been a position coach under Talley, but she didn’t rely as heavily on a major halftime adjustment. What she did at halftime, Falene knew from two and a half seasons of experience, were smaller tweaks.

When Valerii came into the locker room and said, “Defense, we’re throwing out the gameplan,” Falene’s head rocketed up.

“Being-to-being coverage,” Hulu said.

“We’re going to do assignments right now and that’s your being. You don’t let them out of arm’s length,” Hulu said.

“Jolla, you’re dropping down to cover the extra guy, permanently,” Valerii said, “Alana, keep doing your thing.” The head coach looked at her defense and said three words.

“D: weapons free.”

Though the hubbub of the room went on unabated, for some reason Falene got a bit of a chill as she digested what that meant.

When the Miners came out in the second half, the team came out flying. Literally. Ponie, appropriately, started things off by leaving her feet for a flying tackle on one of the Storm defenders. It was judged clean, but Falene thought borederline. Vubbins, Grap, and Zire pounded and crushed their players at every turn. Wizmark was even getting physical with her opposite number. Appropriate penalties ensued. The Storm would score off of these penalties, but largely bar points. Not goals. The penalties were stopping the Antilles Formation attack and limiting it from the big scores in the first half that they’d had.

Some of the Euceron fans were booing. It was clear that the Miners were playing overly physically to stop the Antilles Formation from doing its thing.

Falene, once again, had Chalporrin who had utterly embarrassed her last time these two teams had played. Falene knew that she had a choice. She was weapons free. She’d been given full sanction to beat the snot out of Chalporrin if she saw fit to do so. Or she could play the same tough defense against a being who had at least 200 pounds on her and nearly two feet.

The bolo-ball came towards Chalporrin and Falene. Trieste made the split second decision. She knew that she could get away with interference on Chalporrin. Against such a large opponent, it was usually possible.

Falane jumped for the ball and made the legal play. She lost. Chalporrin got it instead. He looked to pass, but the Miners’ new being-to-being coverage gave him nowhere to go. Time was ticking down. Storm up 34-33. Falene knew what the Wookiee was thinking, that all he had to do was play keep away again like he had two years ago.

As Chalporrin thought this and looked around the field. Falene gave the most massive jump she could possibly muster. As the Wookiee brought the ball back down and in, a classic pump fake to freeze a defender, Falene, in the air, punched the bolo-ball with her fist, popping it loose from the Wookiee’s grasp. The confluence of events had been perfect for her to get a play on the ball and she’d done it.

Falene upon hitting the ground, knew she had to use her smaller size and speed to beat out the Wookiee—or any other Storm forward—to get the bolo-ball and get it out of there. She made it to the ball and did a little chip with her foot to put it right up in the air in front of her. Falene caught it and was faced with a Storm forward. She spun away and turned up the field as quickly as possible. Her internal clock was clanging furiously. She put the bolo-ball into space at midfield, knowing exactly what was there without even doing a full assessment.

With the Storm midfielder dropped low for the Antilles Formation, Alana Glencross had no competition for the bolo-ball. She caught it on the bounce and looked at the clock—now under a minute to go—and then at her forwards. She yelled, “Obroa-skai! Obroa-skai!” and that set the forwards in motion. Alesh broke for the center and Alana hit her. As she crossed the field, she hit Deenever coming at her with a shovel pass. Deenver put the ball into the corner with Stormborn, who crossed it back to Morlan. She drove deep, then reversed back to an open Rodders who caught it cleanly set his feet and hurled it overhand past Chenkabukk.

The horn sounded and that was that. 36-34 Miners. In the postgame handshakes, Falene did not feel exultant or overjoyed. She knew why.

No matter what anyone would say, she would always know the Miners had won the wrong way.

---

IC: Kerry Trieste
Storm owner’s box, Euceron Stadium, Eusebus, Euceron

For such an exciting game, Kerry Trieste was exceedingly quiet as she watched the second half unfold. When the ending events unfolded, the joy of the final score was muted. She could not jump to her feet like the rest of her family in celebration.

“My condolences,” Kerry said to Wilrax, “The Storm played a game that should have been a winner on many other days.” She patted his hand gently.

“You have been a wonderful host,” she continued, “I hope to see you at the Gardens next year for the return visit. Oh, and it would be lovely to have you at this offseason’s Governors meeting. You shouldn’t let the Doctor have all the fun you know.” She smiled and once again gave him a parting kiss. “Until then.”

The Triestes headed for the turbolifts after the proper goodbyes were said. Kerry had Declan, Ayn, and Fiona in hers.

“Stunning second half,” Declan gushed, “The way they bottled up the Antilles Formation, brilliant.”

“There was nothing to be proud of there,” Kerry said, her voice edging into displeasure but not quite there.

“We didn’t have a choice,” Fiona said, “They had us on the ropes. Physical play won this day. Limmie is war.”

“No, it’s a sport,” Kerry said testily.

That chilled the turbolift down for the remainder of its descent.

---

IC: Falene Trieste
Kilmainham Brook, Prytis, Bakura
After the conclusion of the 276 ELL season

It was sad that Saraid Trieste had so little time as leader of the Noble House. Falene had always felt that way. A woman cut down in her prime…but then again being Taoiseach had never really mattered to Saraid. She wondered if she’d cared about it at all. Perhaps her death had kept the title from fading into insignificance like had happened in almost all the other Houses. Maybe her death had, in its own way, kept the Noble House strong.

Saraid Trieste died unmarried and childless. However, this did not result in a crisis of leadership for the Trieste family. Thanks to the assets a Taoiseach controlled, the Noble House’s attorneys saw to it that wills and emergency instructions were drafted as soon as a new Taoiseach arose. That meant that even a cavalier bounty hunter had her successor named in the event of her untimely death.

The fifth Taoiseach of the Noble House was, unexpectedly, her nephew Niall Dunross Trieste, now sometimes known as Niall II. Named for the family progenitor (as were so many Triestes over the years), Niall was a young man whose life seemed destined for something respectable like civil service or an upper middle class profession. His sudden inheritance changed that. One might have expected that the massive windfall would have caused Niall to tend to idleness and dissipation. It did not.

Becoming Taoiseach gave Niall Dunross Trieste a mission in life.

Niall’s motivation for his actions as Taoiseach remained unclear to Falene and her generation. It could have been the weight of the title or the fact that he loved his aunt dearly. What was clear was that Niall grabbed a blaster and a ship and systematically hunted down and killed everyone who had any part in her death. When he was finished, he headed straight back to Bakura and lived out the left of his life as something of a country squire, tending to the Noble House’s assets and doing what was proper for the members of the House.

However, this withdrawal from public life was not uninterrupted. In his killing spree, Niall had knocked off beings with connections to other beings of illicit means and low morals that reciprocated such actions. They came to Bakura each in turn to kill Niall Dunross Trieste. Each left Bakura in a box. After the eighth box, Niall either ran out of enemies or those who remained got the picture.

Once again, Falene wondered what the Mandalorians would think of her and her family if she knew that beings like these were in her family tree and leaders at that. Somehow, she thought that the beings of Euceron would not be surprised to know that the Triestes had been a mercenary people. They might not even use the past tense.

TAG: jcgoble3

 

IC: Christine Gamble
Nar Shaddaa

It just wasn't fair, Christine thought as she trudged off the field of New Six Boroughs Stadium, her gray away uniform covered in grass and sweat. Behind her was the roar of the crowd, the Smuggler faithful cheering for their team after picking up an easy win over their hated rivals at home to snap a six-game losing streak in this matchup. Most pundits would say that a win here was long overdue for the team in burgundy and black, but to Christine, things didn’t work that way. There was no sense of destiny in Limmie; either you played well enough to win or you didn’t play well enough and you lost. Today’s game went too far into that category for her liking.

Nothing had worked today on defense. The Smugglers had kept pressing it into the Senator defense, kept doing whatever they needed to in order to keep the ball moving. Vick McTodd had an easy time with her, almost toying with her the entire game. Whenever she thought she had him stopped, the Amaran would just juke her and freeze her to the spot while he ran past. It seemed like most of the energy she had exerted was to give chase, not keeping her matchup in front of her. A normally rock-solid player, she looked like anything but in this game. It was frustrating, because this was easily the worst game she had ever played in the pros.

The rest of the defense was just as bad, or worse. Reid Livingstone had been pulled by a livid Pamila Korthe early on in the second half because the Zeltron believed her fourth-year corner wasn’t trying hard enough. Christine had thought the same thing; Reid wasn’t with it this year. If this had something to do with that new girlfriend of his, Christine was going to make it a priority to find her and punch her in the face. It wasn’t that she was jealous of this woman getting Reid and not her. No, it was that Reid’s mind seemed elsewhere, and perhaps getting in a few punches would help Christine funnel her anger, both at the team and at herself for sucking the past three weeks. Ortho Dyhon had also seen an early exit from the game, the Twi’lek veteran just not having it today. Reserve backs Reena Wyley and Tank Bratter played most of the second half, and held their own, even though the Smugglers had already sent out their reserves to match late on in the game when the result wasn’t in doubt. Rookie goalkeeper Ziva Kender had been shelled once again, and when she had gotten over to the sideline, Christine could tell that the Nautolan was crying into a towel. It was that kind of season for the Senators.

The offense was pathetic in this game as well. Max Qoebus had done his normal job with two goals and a bar point, pushing his total in the first four games of the season up to 10 goals. He was doing his job, but the rest of the offense stalled today. Former teammate Jayla Leed seemed to have a new sense of purpose in goal for the Smugglers, and stymied the Senators time and again. Meredith Chambers-Vayne had obviously done some things to help her defense and new goalie along, because they were playing rough and tumble Limmie. Sorcha Styles, the Bothan full forward who had been on the other end of the Leed trade in the offseason, had scored a goal, but for the most part had been shut down by Ike Tullo. Somehow the Bothan punted a ball into the back of the net when Tullo had fallen behind on the pursuit, but other than that had been completely shut down. Arkan Matsoto was blanketed the entire game, and hadn’t been heard from except a throw that sailed over the bar for a point. Cord McKerty, the 274 Ingbrand nominee and 275 All-Star, had gone down after a hard hit by Zen Keisel and walked off the field gingerly. Team Doctor Trenos diagnosed it as a pulled hamstring, which was good news given the hit and landing. However, the short forward was out for the day, a victim of the way the Smugglers played defense. They hit hard and asked questions later.

When Christine had left the game midway through the second half, she had to watch in agony as the Smugglers continued to dominate in the Senator defensive zone, torching Raley Tenegat again and again. Although Kapp Pyston, the backup goalie, was able to mitigate the damage done with an effective job of cleanup, Tenegat looked like he had no idea what he was doing. Christine knew that Coach Contar was going to be on them again this week for their pathetic play, but Tenegat was going to get another earful. In the midst of the unmitigated disaster that was the Senator team in this game, and so far this season, at least a few reserves did their part. Maff Biskis finally punched a ball over the bar to get his name on the scoring sheet. Izzi Polakaya did OK in her stint on the field; she might end up starting at some point, Christine mused as she watched. Thulius Jomas, the large reserve forward, scored two nifty goals in garbage time, showing why the Senators were excited to see what he could do. Perhaps if the offense continued to fail spectacularly, then he would get his shot to start. Vail Pin once again passed the ball around, but didn’t look to score like she needed to. Given how good Qorbus was right now, that wasn’t as necessary. But if teams started to slow to Nautolan like they had last season, the Senators were going to be in real trouble unless someone else could pick up the slack. Styles had taken that role this season, but she had been taken out in this one. Now who could pick up that number two designation?

As Christine walked, she could see Dirxx Horstse, the Limmie Hall-of-Famer and Senator legend, with his head down. She almost never saw that from the Besalisk, who always had an infectious smile on his face. She couldn’t blame him; this had been a complete disaster for him in his first ever game as a coordinator. With Gark S’rily not showing up, the half back coach was forced to fill the Bothan’s role with the team. And he had failed spectacularly. So Christine let him be; the man would likely be cheerier later on, but at the moment, this one stung them all.

When she got to her locker stall, Christine kicked off her cleats and kept her head down. She didn’t want to do anything but stew about this crappy game. But there was no chance to just sulk, because she could feel a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see Adanna Inviere, the Hapan GM.

“Christine, we need to talk,” she said.

Great, just one more thing I don’t want to have to think about the second-year pro thought to herself as she followed Inviere to the cramped coach’s office. When she took a seat in the room, she could see her fellow captains, Polakaya and Riff Persnor, also inside. It was a captain’s meeting, obviously. Adanna took her seat across the table from them, with Pam Korthe standing not too far away.

“After today’s performance, it’s obvious to Pamila and I that something is seriously wrong with the team right now,” the Hapan began. “I want to know what’s troubling all of you. If there is something I don’t know about, if there is something I need to know, now would be a good time to tell me. I want this franchise to succeed, and right now, we’re on the fast track to the first overall pick in next year’s draft. That would be a complete travesty given the experience and depth we have on this squad, but if things don’t get fixed soon, we’re all going to be on the hot seat. So, what’s bothering you?”

There was silence for several seconds in the room, and you could hear a pin drop in the void. Finally Christine opened her mouth. She had something to say after all. “I need help,” she finally said.

“This is about Reid, isn’t it?” Adanna asked.

“And the rookies,” Christine said. “I know I didn’t do well today either, but those three aren’t keeping up the slack for me at all.”

“So what do you want me to do?” Adanna asked.

“I don’t know, send them down?” Christine asked. “It’s obvious to me that Raley isn’t ready for the big-time yet, if at all, and Cal . . . he’s trying, but just not good enough.”

“And how do we know that this isn’t just you trying to push the blame off on someone else?” Pam asked.

Christine was shocked. This was her coach asking her if she was blowing smoke. “That’s not what I said!” she said angrily. “None of us have done well all season! But at least I’m trying!”

“Don’t worry, we know,” Pam said. “If it makes you feel any better, Christine, Adanna and I have already been talking of ridding ourselves of the rookies. They’re obviously not ready for this level right now, and we think Jed and his defense can get them back into shape. But that leaves us the question of Reid. Shayt has already informed me that you think he’s distracted. What’s that all about, if I may ask?”

“He got himself a girl this past offseason, and I think it’s messing with his head,” Christine said.

“That sounds familiar,” Adanna quipped.

“But I don’t know if we can afford to get rid of him,” Christine said. “Look at last season . . .”

“Christine, you’re forgetting one major thing. That was last season. This is a new season, and right now, we’re sinking faster than a ship on the seas of Kamino,” Adanna said. “We may need to move Reid if we can get a good deal in place.”

“Does this mean that you want to trade me, too?” Christine asked. She didn’t want to, but it had to be asked.

Pam snorted. “Why would we trade arguably our best defender? You’ve got skills, Gamble, but the supporting cast right now is weak. Yes you had a bad game today, but that happens in this game. You don’t win every game, don’t perform every game. But it’s easy to guess that you’re frustrated with the other corners not picking up the slack for you. And that includes the full backs, and halves to an extent . . .”

“So we want to ask you if there are any changes you want made to the defensive roster,” Adanna said. “We have our ideas, but since you’re a captain, we want your input. How do you think we can improve this team?”

Christine had to think things through. It wasn’t going to be easy, but things needed to change. The defense had given up 99 points in the past three weeks; that was unacceptable. But what could be done to mix it up?

“I think we need to send the rookie corners down,” she finally said after this pause. “If Reid can be whipped into shape, I think he can still be serviceable. As for other backs, maybe allow some of the reserves to play, maybe call someone up? I don’t know, I don’t work with the halves or fulls as much as I do with my fellow corners.”

“Would you be too heartbroken if by this time next week one or more of your defensive teammates are no longer wearing that uniform?” Adanna asked, pointing to the road gray that Christine wore.

“If it means turning things around, I’m all for it,” she said. “Just as long as I’m not traded. I like it here.”


“We’ll start working on finding some answers,” Adanna said. The rest of the meeting went off without a hitch, and by the time Christine got on the shuttle to head to Ralltiir for their next game, she wondered what form her defense would be in when the lights were on and it was time to play.

TAG: Vehn, Runjedirun (for next week's game)

NOTE: Like I said, I'm willing to listen to trade offers starting now.




Senators Trading Block:

• Ortho Dyhon (Twi'el, Male, Half Back)
• Reid Livingstone (Human, Male, Corner Back)
• Myles Tormera (Zeltron, Male, Half Back)

 

IC: Kaitlyn Vehn
New Six Boroughs, Rim War, Senators 21, Smugglers 36

For six consecutive years the Coruscant Senators had owned the Rim War. Now, Nar Shaddaa had finally broken the mold and returned the favor in a fierce fashion much to the delight of the rowdy fan base. Nothing could stop the Smuggler offense this season and the defense was back to playing the hard-hitting, heavily penalized style, that they were known for and making opponents pay for attempting to score on the goal. Down had gone the Miners. Down went the Senators. The darlings of the Elite League were burning underneath the intensity of the Smuggler attack. Let them burn.

The Nar Shaddaa Smugglers were 4-0 in non-conference play but the real test was yet to come. Next week they would play Euceron and if any team in the history of the league had traditionally been a thorn in the Smugglers side it was the storm. But Kaitlyn wasn’t going to let that bother her now. She was focused on reveling in the victory today over a team that had come to dominate much of the previous decade of limmie.

She watched with pride as her players filed into a long line for the handshake to seal the win. Everything had gone well during the first half of the season. She couldn’t have asked for a better start.

There was something to be said about the ending of a vicious game, a heated battle, a contest for pride and bragging rights. When two tired and physically beaten professional squads give their all for a cause they believe in emerge from the fog of war they find in themselves room to forgive, room to accept, and room to love one another as only brethren in the sport of Limmie can know.

There was more to the obligatory end of game handshake between two squads than meets the public eye. The handshake goes beyond mere formality it extends to honoring the victor, to offering a helping hand to the defeated, to raising both squads up from the ashes of a rough and tumble struggle. Here, in the handshake, there can be no gloating, there can be no room for petty conflicts. A knowing that each victory, each defeat, must be savored in its own right for the winds of change are rapid and unpredictable and when one team rises another must inevitably fall.

Kaitlyn couldn’t help but smile as she watched Meredith Chambers-Vayne yank her husband to her and kiss him passionately on the lips, amidst the roaring of the Smuggler crowd, her jubilant players, and the stagnating stench of defeat and disappointment that seemed to roll off the Coruscant Senators as they wearily made their way to the visiting locker room. Somehow, in all of this maelstrom of emotion and conflict, there was love and hope and a message that hatreds could be put aside for the common good.

Vehn was glad that she’d hired Meredith to be the defensive coordinator of the Smugglers. It had seemed like a natural move at the time and one that was paying dividends in earnest. They were a far cry from the team that she’d inherited at the dawn of the 274 season. Now she was heading what some media pundits were calling a contender. She knew better than to lay down any sort of proclamations. There was plenty of limmie between now and then. But for right now she would take anything and four victories against good teams was fine by her.


She walked into the tunnel leaving the players to celebrate this victory, leaving the coaches to revel in their glory, leaving the crowd to proclaim the champions of tomorrow in Mylessa McCloud, Vick McTodd, Gargova Brousard, Jayla Leed, and so many others. Kaitlyn looked back as another roar from the home crowd drifted down the long tunnel into the labyrinthine underbelly of the stadium. It seemed as if all of Nar Shaddaa had come to celebrate today. Perhaps that was good. Perhaps that was how it needed to be for right now.

She had work to do as her mind began to look ahead to personal matters that loomed on the horizon. Hard choices would have to be made, very hard choices, and she only hoped that she had the strength to see them through to whatever end they might bring.

---

Jedi Temple of Ossus


“Kaitlyn Vehn, what brings you to our humble temple?” Jedi Master Vas Kiall asked as he looked up from working on something at his desk.

“I’m calling in a debt,” Kaitlyn said.

“What might that be?” Kiall asked.

“One that you owe my family,” Kaitlyn replied.

“I’m not aware of any debt that the Vehn family has with the Jedi of Ossus,” Kiall said with an air of confusion.

Kaitlyn folded her arms across her chest and replied, “You know that I’m not really a Vehn, Master Kiall. Though the Vehn’s once frequented this temple on a regular basis that was a long time ago in a very different galaxy. No, Master Kiall, I believe you know to what debt I am referring.”

Master Kiall folded his fingers together in a steeple position and slowly sighed. He was caught in a corner. He could no longer ignore this woman’s desires and he was honor bound to speak honestly. “I seem to remember in my many studies of the great debt that the Jedi Order of Ossus owes to your family, your real family.”

“Now as a living member of that very family I ask that you fulfill your debt,” Kaitlyn pressed.

“Was your healing not enough to fulfill our obligations to your family?” Master Kiall asked.


Kaitlyn smirked and replied, “I believe you were paid for your services, quite handsomely if I remember correctly. And no that particular job did not satisfy the oath that your order once swore to my family.”

Kiall warily smiled and patted a pocket in his robes. He knew this woman in front of him could duel. Oh, he knew her strengths very well indeed. He reached into the pocket and procured a holocron: One of the last teachings of the masters of old. A rare item that had somehow found itself lost on Druckenwell for thousands of years until an ambitious family with galactic leanings discovered the item one day before laying the foundation on their many skyscrapers of II Avali.

“Have you come here for yourself?” Kiall asked.

“No, I ask that you fulfill your debt to my family by helping someone I love.”

“Ah, so you have found peace inside yourself to love another?” Kiall inquired.

“I have.”

Kaitlyn explained the situation.

“A healing of this magnitude can only come from someone who loves another unconditionally. This young girl, Lilly, must know that you love her unconditionally, Kaitlyn. Without hesitation, without regret, without resentment, only then can we perform our holy duties. She is a tortured soul, this teenager. She has had her very life-blood ripped away in a terrible accident and society has let her down. Her emotions must be very fragile and so they must be nurtured. You must take it upon yourself to do whatever must be done to make sure she has a stable life and a loving home.”

“Are you implying that I should—“ Kaitlyn began.

Master Vas Kiall, wise sage of the Jedi Temple of Ossus, looked at Kaitlyn after gently stroking his holocron and replied, “I am suggesting that very thing. You would be wise to heed my advice.”

“What you are asking is—“

“Impossible?” Kiall shook his head. “Not impossible, Kaitlyn.”

“But how can I try and do something like that with the system we live in?”

“That is where you first fail. Size of the issue matters not. As a great Jedi once said long ago in the golden age, “Do or do not, there is no try.” If Lilly means that much to you, I’m sure you will find a way.”

“If this fails-“ Kaitlyn threatened.

“You’ll what? Burn Ossus to the ground? My dear, that has happened before and still we stand tall in our mighty temple. Empires and people come and go. Love, unconditional, true, unrequited love, does not. That is the one constant that binds all living things together. I have faith that soon you will come to the right answer.”

“Some are not as strong in their faith as you,” Kaitlyn bitterely replied.

“And that is where you are weak. That is where you fail, Miss Vehn,” Kiall reminded her. “Search deep inside yourself. You have all the answers. Trust and remember: let go.”

Kaitlyn exhaled and leaned against the desk. When she looked up at Kiall she asked, “What do I need to do?”

Master Vas Kiall told her everything.

Kaitlyn Vehn was forever changed and she knew her life would never be the same.

Tag:jcgoble3 (for mention of the Storm); Jedi Gunny (for mention of the Senators)

 

All on my own I'm trying, to change how you see and what you believe.​

IC: Martin Vigo

I decided to stay home rather than travel all the way to Agamar. The game didn’t start until several hours after dinner local time. I was working in my office when I felt young eyes on me. I looked up to see Tomas in the doorway, shifting his weight from foot to foot. When I looked up his gaze hit the floor. “You need something?” I asked curiously.

He looked up nervously. “The game starts soon,” he said quietly.

I made a point to look at the chrono, “Sure enough,” I said. I wasn’t going to do the work for him if he wanted to watch the game he was going to have to ask.

“I know holovision is off limits right now, because I got in trouble at school, but do you think it would be alright if we watched the game?”

“Who’s we?”

“Me and Spencer.”

“Sure,” I said. “Go get your brother. I have something for each of you, than we can all watch the game together.”

“Yes sir,” he said brightening just before he ran off to retrieve his brother.

I pulled out a couple of packages and placed them on my desk while I waited for the boys to come. Their eyes widened when they got back. “Presents?” Tomas exclaimed, “What for?”

“You have birthdays coming up in 2 weeks. I’ll probably be knee deep in All Star preparations so I thought I’d give you your presents early.” I handed each of them the appropriate box and waited. Tomas dove into his tearing the paper off quickly and opening the box.

“Limmie gloves!” He yelled out excitedly. He immediately pulled off the tag and tried them on.

“High tech,” I informed him. “Self heating for the cold weather coming on and with the grip fabric you have no excuse to drop any balls.”

Spencer was more hesitant to open his. Almost 13, and those teenage years changed kids. I’d seen him becoming more and more reserved, less open in the last few months. He sat down in a chair off to the side and carefully pulled back the paper. He peeked inside the box, but he didn’t pull out the contents.

“Do you like them?” I asked. “If not we can exchange them, but your mother was sure those were the shoes you wanted.”

“They’re fine.” Tomas ran over to see what he got. Reluctantly Spencer opened the box to show his brother. “Dance shoes,” he explained, “For the recital.”

I could tell Spencer liked the shoes by the way he clutched the box. “You can put them upstairs if you like. We’ll meet you in the family room to watch the game.”

He nodded and left. We all met up a few minutes later in front of the holo to watch the game.

I sat on one end of the sofa and the boys sat next to each other at the other end. All of us were quiet. I imagined they felt similar to how I felt. Anticipating a win probably meant another disappointment and anticipating a loss felt wrong. I noticed neither one of them had changed into a jersey or even a Starkillers t-shirt. The sales of such items had dramatically declined in the past couple of weeks. I had been lucky to secure the All Star game the ticket and concession sales were things I desperately needed to keep my investment afloat at this point.

The game began on a high note, our offense immediately took control of the ball. Marmu put a quick 3 points on the board with an assist from Fortune. Unfortunately Agamar was quick to answer with a goal of their own. Both offenses were off to a hot start and points began to build up on both sides quickly. We were struggling at defense again. In fact Agamar was putting more points on the board than we were. It was 19 - 9 Agamar when Ty lost his temper. At first it just appeared that he was jogging out of position, then off field. When he got to the sideline he didn’t step off field though, instead he said something to Coach Till. The coach immediately called a time out. He substituted Sosar Driff in at Full Back and moved Dev Poletin over to Ty’s position in left corner.

“What’s going on?” Tomas asked out loud. I shrugged and sat up closer to the edge of the sofa as if it would help me read the lips of my coach and his Left Corner Back. They were going at it on the sideline. It was like watching my own son’s fight. I felt helpless only worse because they were adults millions of light years away and there was nothing I could do. When the exchange ended Ty took a seat on the bench, pulled his hair out of the pony tail he wore it in and shook it out, spraying sweat to both sides. He ran his left hand through his long locks and sat fuming.

Shortly after that Bat came downstairs. The fact that he wasn’t much of a sports fan in general did not stop him from checking the score and insulting the team. “Your cruddy team is losing again,” he commented. Maybe he was just stopping by to insult me. I didn’t want to get in an argument with him, not tonight so I ignored the comment.

“On your way to work?” I asked him.

“Going to get something to eat first.”

“Why don’t you bring it in here, watch the game with us? Maybe the team will surprise you, our offense has been playing really well.”

“Since when are we allowed to have food outside of the kitchen?” He inquired.

“You think I never watch these security cameras?” I asked, pointing in the direction of the nearest one. “I am aware that every one of my children has eaten in just about every room of this house just because I’m not home and they think I’m not watching.”

He shrugged and continued on into the kitchen. In hopes he would come back I went to my office and retrieved the gift I’d planned to give him for his birthday. He returned with a plate full of left-overs from dinner just as the first half was coming to a close. Starkillers were down 25 – 11. Tomas was asleep, no not asleep, but pretending to be asleep in the corner of the sofa. Spencer had his data pad out, and I’m pretty sure he was busy studying for test. The game was proving to be another disappointment. Bat took a seat in the easy chair and quietly ate.

I got up and handed him the small box that was his birthday present. “What’s this?” He asked.

“For your birthday. I know it’s not for 3 more weeks. But we have time now, so go ahead and open it up.

He gave me a real curious look, then peeled back the paper and opened the box, dumping the contents into his left hand. He held it for a moment. Turned it around in his hands and studied the object. “A multitool?” He continued to study it. “WV”, he said noticing the engraving on the side. “This was your father’s. I can’t take this.” He reached out his hand with the multitool pointed towards me.

“I want you to have it.”

“Your father died when you were only 10, I know you don’t have many memories of him. You keep it.”

“Bat, do you know how my father died?”

“In a speeder accident.”

“He was flying too fast, almost double the posted limit.” The memory was over 40 years old, but it still haunted me. “Your grandfather had just finished working one job and he was on his way to another. There are a lot of similarities between you and him right now. He was always rushing into decisions, thinking they were best for himself or his family. He was headstrong and my mother was always worried about him. Her worst fears came true when we got the call about the accident. She was lucky he had invested in coverage for us after he passed.”

“Grandma sent you and Uncle Jim to military school. I’ve heard the story.” He held up the multitool and studied it again. “Is that why you want me to have this? To remind me not to crash a speeder and get myself killed?”

“It’s not just the speed of your driving that concerns me. Although ever since you started driving cabs it has been foremost on my mind, I will admit. It’s all the decisions you make and the speed in which you make them. Your about to turn 19, not 40. You shouldn’t be in such a hurry all the time, no need to be so busy. Enjoy your life, you only get one.”

“Okay,” he said with a shrug “I’ll keep it.” He opened up his jacket and placed it in an inside pocket securing it with a zipper.

The Starkillers took the field to play the second half. Ty remained on the bench. His hair was secured again and he seemed to be ready to play if necessary. In appearance he was mostly calmed down, but still noticeably anxious. He gripped the bench and dug his cleat into the ground as the Packers offense added a quick point to their lead. Then Hovechar found her groove and dribbled the ball around several Packers defenders and all the way up field. She passed to Flarn who made a long shot on goal. It was deflected, but hit the bar for a point. That seemed to jump start our offense. We scored consecutively on the next three possessions. The Packers only scored on one of theirs. 27 – 16 Packers, Till walked over in Ty’s direction and put his hand on his shoulder. He leaned down to say something and Ty got up. Fortune missed a shot, but the clock stopped since the ball went out of play so Allin returned to the field.

Our offense continued to dominate and now our defense began to mesh as well. The Packers lead diminished quickly. I glanced down towards the other end of the sofa. Spencer wasn’t studying anymore and Tomas was still trying to pretend he was asleep, though his eyes were slits they were noticeably open. I saw something I hadn’t seen this season when the Starkillers took the lead back, Jul’s smile. It was bright and wonderful. It came as she watched Fortune approach the Agamar keeper full speed and smash the ball past him. 27 – 29 Starkillers.

I think the whole team enjoyed that moment a little too much because the Packers came right back and scored a goal on us. We were back down by a point, but that lead must have felt good. The Starkillers wanted it back and they got it back on the very next drive. Teaspoon kicked the ball out of the goal box to midfield where Frokabukk stood ready. He passed it up field to Jul, she passed it off to Marmu ran across field and switched places with Fortune, then Marmu passed back to Jul and Jul got the lead back with a short shot on goal.

Bat got up and cleared his plate. “I’m off, hope your team wins,” he said in parting. For the rest of the game we held the lead. I felt bad for the boys, it was late. Tomas did fall asleep, I knew how important the team was to him so I made sure to set the holo so he could watch the parts he missed in the morning. Spencer also looked worn, as soon as the clock hit 0 he shook Tomas enough to wake and led him upstairs. I stayed up and watched the postgame show and highlights. To my surprise Allin took the podium at a postgame press conference.

“I’d like to apologize to the fans, my teammates and my coach for my behavior on field today. Although it’s not an excuse I guess all this losing can get to anyone, even me. There’s still a lot of Limmie to play this season. For a moment I forgot that, now I’m looking forward to it again. That’s the way things should be.” Hands flew up and he reluctantly took a question.

“What did you say to coach Till before he took you out of the game?”

“I told him his system wasn’t working. When he pulled me he tried to explain that if I had been using the system he designed it might work. It took being benched for me to realize I hadn’t listened to him since he became the coach. I’ve been doing what I want and I may have been single handily destroying our chances defensively. I have a lot to think about this week.” It was a hell of an admission. I made sure I still had the holo recording and was happy that it was. I wanted to make sure Tomas saw this.

Ty took one final question. “How do you expect the game against the Senators next week to play out?”

“Coruscant is a good team. They’ve been struggling in non-conference play just as much as we have, but there’s a lot of opportunity moving into conference play. It’s up to us to prove we want it more than they do.”

Tag: Tim Battershell Jedi Gunny

 

IC: Ava Killenger
Garqi

Garqi. Ava had never heard of this place before last week. Of course, given its proximity to Agamar, she knew exactly why that was. This wasn’t the kind of place she normally wanted to visit, because it was out of the way and quiet. Oh so quiet. She had grown up a city girl on the bustling world of Coruscant, not exactly a backwater planet. Thyferra, despite its tropical atmosphere, was still a busy world with a lot going on, especially in the sectors of the planet that specialized in bacta production and supply. But this was a whole different ballgame.

The Gunners were a new team to the Futures League, only in their second-ever game. After having lived on Coruscant her entire life, and having grown up with species diversity in school and on the Limmie pitch, it unnerved her a bit when she saw their all-human lineup. Yes, the Bakura Miners had been vilified when she was growing up about doing the same thing, as had Kuat. But those were stories for someone else to worry about. Now she needed to defeat this team.

The game the prior week had never been in doubt for the Force. They had dominated the Rangers inside and out, had punched the ball into the offensive zone almost every time down the field, and played solid defense against larger forwards. It was the kind of complete game that made coaches ecstatic, and wanting another performance like it the next week. That meant scoring at will, stopping the opposing offense, and doing all the little things in the middle of the field.

And that’s what this game had been, complete. Ava and the offense had once again run smoothly and efficiently within Sulena Gure’s Pistol attack. The ferocity of the handoffs and ball fakes were messing with the Gunner’s heads as they tried to find the ball, and that helped the Force repeatedly push the ball deep into Garqi territory. At one point, Ava had received a handoff before faking out a defender with a ball fake and then a juke, which crossed up the defender so much that he was frozen in space. That was the design of this offense, the Echani coordinator had always said, to make players think about where the ball is. “By the time they get their heads on straight, you’ll be parsecs ahead,” she liked to say.

By the end of the game, Thyferra had walked away with a tidy 24-10 win. Ava had netted a goal early on in the game, punched the ball over the bar, and made a nifty assist to Ynisse Zalt in the flat for another bar point. Not the same outing as the prior week, but still a solid game to hang her hat on. The only issue she had was her three turnovers, which occurred when she was trying to get too fancy. She would have to iron those out for next week.

The defense had once again done its job. Anchored by captain Rainy Frantsen, third-round pick Jamee Meels, and the corner duo of Steen Roggers and Carder Blylock, the Force had kept the Gunner forwards in front of them the entire contest. Frantsen had laid down some nice hits, and Meels had intimidated the smaller forwards with his size and length. The “raw skill” pick seemed to be paying off, at least for now. Jam Tarpals looked comfortable in goal with his second win, making some nice athletic saves.

Midfield had flat-out dominated. Mekmek had shown why the Senators had signed her on as depth before last season, and if it wasn’t for the four names above her on the organizational depth chart, she likely would see the show soon. Arienne Farfell, the third-round pick who no one seemed to think was worth much, once again came out strong and punished her counterparts on the home side in the middle. It seemed like every time Garqi came up the field with the ball, the flash of red hair came into view to make a play. She was no Alana Glencross, because her offensive skills still needed some fine-tuning, but her tenacious play was inviting these comparisons, if nothing else than for the hair. Chorba Hoosten had done a good job off the bench, as had Levi Corner, who still tried to keep his distance from Ava in case she tried to take him out on another “date”, or if what Christine had drawn him into during camp could be termed as such.

This thought brought her around to Christine. The Senators were listing, their defense in shambles. Undoubtedly her former roommate was having no end of trouble at her corner spot, with the rest of the team crumbling around her. Ava had no doubt that things might change soon if the Senators kept losing.

Her question was quickly answered when she walked by the coaches’ office. Inside was General Manager Lorrin Malestra, talking to Jed Ortmeyer, the head coach. “Jed, it’s critical that we send up some talent,” Lorrin said.

“I wouldn’t be worried about them just yet . . .” Jed replied.

“Jed, they’ve given up over 30 points a game in their last three. That’s almost unheard of!” Lorrin retorted. “If I don’t provide them with some new blood in that defensive wreck they’ve got, then my head is going to be on a pike!”

“I hate having to mess with success here,” Jed said. “We’re 2-0. Losing some of our defensive pieces could really hurt us later. We both know that. Besides, Gundor was the first call-up. I can’t do anything more with her, so if they expect her to be their savior, then they need to let her play more.”

“Be rational, Jed,” Lorrin said bluntly. “She just made her league debut, and it was in a game where the team allowed 36 points. She has a lot to learn; not everyone is a crack defender in their first game either.”

“So who do they want?” Jed finally asked.

“They are looking at corner, obviously, but I think they could use help all across the board. After getting off the comm. with Adanna, she seems to be intent on looking at the midfield as well.”

“Don’t tell me they want to rush Farfell up,” Jed said, slapping a palm to his face as he said this.

“No. They were looking at Mekmek, who is a solid play right now. Besides, Hoosten has more than enough experience to fill in.”

“They do know how thin we are at corner, right?” Jed asked. “Roggers is new, Blylock has played all of two games with us, and then there’s . . . Baldvid. She hasn’t even started at this level, or Osso. They’d be better off asking for a half back at this point.”

“They might do just that, probably Meels or Frantsen,” Lorrin said. “That leaves us a half back short, though . . .”

“Any move we make costs us a body, unless we get one in return,” Jed clarified.

“We’re likely going to see a rookie or two be sent down if the defense keeps failing,” Lorrin commented. “That means we can afford to lose Roggers, since he seems to be our best corner right now . . .”

“I just don’t see how he’s going to help,” Jed said.

“Well, it’s obvious to me, and to them, that something’s broken. They need to fix it before the hemorrhaging continues. This is a proud organization, Jed. You know that. A terrible season like this doesn’t sit well with anyone, and it shows that there are leaks in the system. So we need to be ready to provide the Senators with top-flight talent so that they stay viable in the playoff hunt. And given recent events, that would be a necessity right now.”

“Fine. Who are we going to lose this week?”

“No one this week, but that will be re-evaluated at the Ralltiir game. If changes are made, the All-Star break is coming up.”

“But we still have a game that week,” Jed protested. “I need to know who I have suiting up for me every week, Lorrin. I can’t have my roster in flux a day or two before a game.”

“I have a feeling that won’t happen,” Lorrin said.

“You better be right,” Jed said.


As she sat in front of her locker, Ava knew that the offense wasn’t involved in that conversation. Also, it sounded like things in the defense were worse than she originally thought. Hopefully Christine was keeping it together. As for herself, Ava knew that there was a game next week. It was a chance to notch another win and go to 3-0.

TAG: Tim Battershell (for the Gunners), No One

 

IC: Wilrax Tunran IV
Location: Owner's box, Euceron Stadium, Eusebus, Euceron
Time: Halftime, Week 4 game against Miners

Wilrax smiled as the first half came to a close with the Storm on top. As the teams headed back into the locker rooms, he leaned back and turned to Kerry. "Well, that was a nice first half. I think both defenses need some adjustments, honestly. Oh, yeah, where was it we left off with the history discussion? I believe it was with bankrupting our first league." Wilrax chuckled. "Yeah, we've moved past it.

"My great-grandfather was the one that founded the Storm. There wasn't a limmie team on Euceron at the time other than scholastic teams and a low-level amateur league. But that amateur league was producing some nice talent. More than a few players from it had gone on to play Premier or Elite League limmie. My great-granddad wanted to keep them here, so he created the Storm and filled the initial roster with players from the amateur league and a few college players. Now many of those players could have easily landed decent contract in the low levels of the pro ranks, but even though Senior was a multi-billionaire, he was stingy with his money. I was 22 at the time, old enough to have some input on the whole thing, and I told him that he should give these players the salaries that they deserved. He didn't listen and insisted on making the team semi-professional.

"So we ended up in the Northeast Rim Limmie League for our inaugural season, 218. It was about as high-level of a semi-pro league as you could find out there; a few of the star players in the league made enough money to live on without a regular job, but not many. Anyway, the other teams were made up of true semi-pro players—players that played as a hobby or for fun and weren't good enough to advance past that level. The Storm, on the other hand, were chock-full of pro-level talent waiting to be discovered. In retrospect, I think that if the league had been aware of just how good our players were, they would have rejected our membership application. But you know what they say about hindsight. On top of the level of raw talent, our players were more than a bit irked about the lowball salaries, and so they were out to prove that they deserved better.

"In the end, the result was 20 consecutive victories with no margin of victory under 24, en route to two undefeated championships over our first two seasons. Now the league was barely staying afloat when we joined it; they only reason that they were able to pay the bills, never mind turning a profit, was the few local holobroadcast deals that were in place. Those deals paid good money, because the league was known for its exciting parity, with any team able to beat any other team on any given day. We ruined that image. So when the six of the contracts expired after the 219 season, four stations declined to renew because of how far the ratings were down and the other two wanted huge reductions in what they were paying. The league tried to shop the games around to other networks, but couldn't find any takers. Finally, three weeks before what would have been the start of the 220 season, the league had fallen so far into debt that its creditors forced it into bankruptcy, and one week later, the courts dissolved the league. That's the story of how we indirectly bankrupted our first league."

Wilrax leaned back and took a few breaths, giving Kerry or others in the box a chance to reply if she wanted to. When she was ready, he continued. "When that happened, Senior was devastated because he didn't want his team to have to fold that quickly. I finally convinced him to pay the players several times more and move the team into a fully professional league. We looked around some low-level leagues, but most were too close to the start of the season to accept a new team. We lucked out when we talked to the Mid Rim Limmie League; they started their season four months later than most other leagues, so that they wouldn't be competing for attention with larger leagues and the college game. It was a bit higher level league than Senior would have liked, but it was either that or not play at all in 220. So we applied, and they accepted us, though not until the Board of Governors had spent three days discussing our application. We started play there in 220, our first season as a fully professional team.

"It was a rather large jump up the ladder, and it showed early on. We were blown out in our first game, something like forty to five; I forget the exact score. The second game produced similar results. But it wasn't for lack of talent; our players, having come through amateur and semi-pro leagues, just couldn't keep up with the much faster pace of play. Our coaches worked with the players, and they adapted to the speed of play. We took the third game to overtime, and finally broke into the win column with the fourth game. Once the players had adapted to the faster place, their talent took over and we couldn't lose. Four straight wins later, we were in the playoffs, and after two more, we had our first professional championship.

"Now we were able to pick up better players. We strengthened the team through free agent signings and recruiting college players, and we came out firing in 221. We won game after game after game, and in the end the season looked much like the ones we had spent in the Northeast Rim League: 8–0 regular season, 23.3 average margin of victory, and a 43–8 victory in the championship game. The rest of the league was scrambling to catch up when they got a lucky break: the Premier League had come a-knockin' on our door. Once again, I had to convince my great-granddad to move the team up, because it meant doubling or even tripling many of the players' salaries again to meet league minimum requirements. He agreed to do it, and that began a... let's see here, ten, twenty, thirty, forty... three, forty-three-year stay in the Premier League, 222 to 264.

"We won our first game, but lost the next three, and missed the playoffs that season. 223 and 224 saw us make first-round exits from the playoffs. It seemed that we had finally found competition that was on the same level as our players' talent. We broke through in 225 with our first Mid Rim Conference Championship and a run to the semifinals, and we finally won a Premiership in 227 as the underdog after a hard-fought 5–3 season. Seven of the players on that squad, five of them starters, were part of the original roster from 218.

"So there's the story of our first ten years. At the time, I argued with Senior that he should have applied for Premier League membership from the start, but now that I look back on it, I don't think we would have lasted long had we done that. The first four years were instrumental in helping those formerly amateur players progressively adapt to higher levels of play. If not for those years of domination, I think we would have been bounced from the Premier League after one or two seasons. I still think we should have started in a fully pro league, though. The Northeast Rim League did not deserve the fate that they suffered. One of the first things I did when I took over ownership was remove all semi-pro trophies from our public trophy case. We still have them, but they're buried in a storage room around here somewhere. Beating up inferior teams like that in a league that we had no business being in is not something I feel that we should be proud of."

By now the teams had taken the field again and were preparing to start the second half. The Storm put the ball in play, and Wilrax watched as the Miners slowly clawed their way back. And "clawed" was right: they were drawing penalties left and right in order to take the Storm off their game. Haron Orus was furious and spent several minutes screaming at the referee to issue unsportsmanlike conduct penalties, until the referee finally had enough and did exactly that—to Haron himself. Haron snapped and got in the referee's face yelling at him some more, and so the referee ejected him from the game. His walk off the field was no walk of shame, with the crowd interrupting their booing to give him a round of applause as he headed for the tunnel.

Wilrax was not blind to what the Miners were doing, nor was he blind to the Chancellor's silence. Clearly she was just as perturbed as he was at the way the Miners were playing. The winning play, interestingly, was a legal one, as Kerry's daughter somehow popped the ball loose from Chalporrin's hands and sent it upfield; after several passes, Aron Rodders put it in the back of the net, and that was that. Wilrax noted the manner in which Kerry expressed her condolences on the loss and simply nodded his head in acceptance. He had things to think about.

---

Two days later, Wilrax finally came to a decision. He had seriously considered petitioning the League for sanctions against the Miners for the team-wide unsportsmanlike play. It would have been easy enough to do so; HSN Euceron, then the main HSN, and then other galactic media had ripped the Miners to shreds with their criticism of the manner in which the second half had unfolded. But he had decided not to. The reason was simple. As the owner of the team, Kerry would ultimately bear the full brunt of any penalties imposed on the Miners, such as fines—and yet Kerry was the one person that had understood, as it was happening, that it was wrong. Wilrax felt that it would, in turn, be wrong to punish her for her team's actions when she had not sanctioned or approved of those actions. He had faith that Kerry would address the matter internally; there was no way they could ignore the media reports, or the press conference questions that had started in the press room at Euceron Stadium post-game.

TAG: Trieste (for Kerry's response to the history lesson and final paragraph, and the League's response to the ejection)

 

IC: Christine Gamble
Ralltiir

Christine stood in the huddle with her teammates minutes before the game versus the Starkillers. This game was being mocked around the galaxy as the “Fresher Bowl” game of the week, as both teams were fighting to stay out of last place in the Solo Conference. The Starkillers were coming off their first win, while the Senators had lost three straight in progressively worse fashion. Both teams needed momentum going into the All-Star Break; the winner would be back in the thick of the conference playoff hunt, and the loser would be close to the brink of elimination. This game was that important.

Pamila Korthe went over everything in the huddle as normal. “This is going to be a huge game for us today. A win here puts us back in the hunt. A loss, and we might as well just tank the rest of the season and get a high draft pick. I don’t want to do that, so we need to play hard and bash the Starkillers around.

On offense, I want to see smooth-flowing Limmie. Dauza, keep those balls moving on offense. Don’t hold on to it for too long as you did last week, because the opposition will come in and try to stop you. Run the offense through the secondary playmakers. Forwards, I need you to open this game up with a strong salvo. Bash it in from the corners. Qorbus, Pin, use your size on those corners and try to push your way in towards the goal. They have a rookie netminder, so if we can put her down early, we can break her spirits and win this game. But watch out for Poletin. That kid is good, so Styles, make sure not to let him take free shots at you.

Defense, we’re mixing things up. Instead of running our typical defense, I want to go back to a scheme that worked in the past. Since our regular plans aren’t working, we might as well change it. We’re going to use a 1-3-2 scheme, with Zoom placed out on top. The midfielders need to provide a speed bump coming across the middle of the field, and then you need to clean them up. Hit them at the top of the route, and they will then have to navigate around a tighter defense. As for the rest of you defensive starters, I want you to tighten up a little bit. Three of you in the middle, keep those corners tight. Back two, I want to see those gaps plugged, and have a body in every lane on that field. If we can stop the gaps, then we can keep them from scoring. Kapp, we’re counting on you. This is your chance to prove yourself after all these years.

Let’s get out there and get some life back in our season.”

The team dispersed onto the field, the defense trying not to show what they were going to be up to when the game began. Christine settled herself near her normal starting position. Looking around, she could see some changes in the defense. She was the only corner out here to start the game, not exactly a loss given the last three games. Ortho Dyhon and Reid Livingstone had been benched, and Tank Bratter and Reena Wyley were taking over those spots. Bratter was going to man the middle of the ‘3’ zone as the hard-hitter to dissuade Starkiller forwards from going up the middle, and Wyley would have Christine’s back in the right corner of the ‘2’ zone. Christine was out here to seal off her side of the field, as was normal, but this time she was going to have help behind her. Abbey Waters was over on the other side of the ‘2’, playing something similar to corner back but with a positional feel of full back, and Myles Tormera was now playing the Left side of the ‘3’. Zummarorroo had the top of the defense to himself, to harass anyone coming across and to make them think twice about going right up the gut. Kapp Pyston was going to make his first start in goal since 271, when he had played for Korthe and the Thyferra Force. He had been injured in that game and had never regained his starting spot from Jayla Leed. With Leed gone, Pyston had still been a backup to Ziva Kender, but with the Nautolan ineffective, now it was his chance to shine.

A change had been made to aid the defense from the midfield. Izzi Polakaya, the captain and senior member of the team, was now starting across from Alysha Romax instead of Gayla Renhorn. Renhorn had struggled mightily the past few games, so Polakaya, the defensive-minded midfielder, was going to earn more minutes to help plug some gaps on defense. Romax was a capable defender in her own right, but she was more of a traditional midfielder and didn’t drop back on defense as well as her fellow middie could.

Up front, with Cord McKerty out for this game with a hamstring issue, Vail Pin was going to make her first career start. The Shistavanen, who was seemingly better as passing the ball than scoring it, now was going to help Maximus Qorbus up front try to beat the Starkiller corners on the block. If they could push it in from the edges, they could open up the attack for the half forwards, in particular Riff Persnor. The 270 All-Star had been almost nonexistent in the scoring offense thus far, and was due for a breakout game. Sorcha Styles would also see her fair share of touches going up the middle, but had to watch for the Whipid full back Poletin.


Christine knew that this was going to be a tough game. Ralltiir wanted this win just as badly as her team did, and they had the advantage with the home field. Perhaps if she played well enough here, she would find herself back on this field next week as an All-Star selection, but that seemed doubtful if the defense didn’t get its act together. A loss last season to the Starkillers had been one of two that had derailed the Senators, and was partly to blame for why they were still on this losing skid. It seemed like that game had punched them in the face, and they still had yet to get back up from that blow. Now was their chance to get some revenge for that game, and to get back on track in the Solo.

TAG: Runjedirun

 

IC: Jacen Hunter
Halftime of "The comeback", Meshla Vhetin, Mandalore

The gargantuan stadium known as the Meshla Vhetin rocked under a cacophony of angry boos and shouted insults as the teams left the field at the half-time break. Normally the angry sounds coming from the fans around him would have shaken Jacen to the core, but not today. Today he joined in. This could have been one of the worst first half's of limmie ever played before the blood thirsty fans of Mandalore, and the "effort" the team had put together had them losing by 30 points. Worse still they were being shut out by the Patriots. It was embarassing. Worse still, the team was already at 1-2, and their soon to be 1-3 record would be a hole too deep to climb out of given how well others in the Skywalker Conference were playing this season.

The Patriots had watched game film of the Senators/Mercs game and had keyed in on Daryc, frustrating him throughout the first half. Normally the Full Forward would have been able to pick up the slack, but Lieznam was too busy being chased and tossed about like a rag doll to do much of anything. It led to him being jumpy any time he got his hands on the bolo-ball, and he was unwilling to do anything with it save pass it off, quickly. Passes which were far too often intercepted, setting up numerous Patriot opportunities on the other end. The Mercs midfield pair had played their counterparts to a draw, but with the offense falling apart and the defense under constant siege there wasn't much they could do.

In some other venues across the league, and perhaps even here on another day, the fans would already be streaming toward the exits, unwilling to watch the osik that the Mercs were calling a team. But not this day, this day the fans were letting the Mercs players and staff feel their displeasure. And so it was that the fans stayed, and they watched.

They would be glad that they had.

The second half started normally enough, well normally enough for a team being blasted 30-0 on their home turf. The Patriots had possession and were moving up the field. They finessed their way past an exhausted Mor'kesh before bullying through the Hanson brothers. Not even a vicious hit by K'Karlson could slow them down as the ball was simply snatched up by another forward who continued the inevitable progression onward. Jacen watched as Kitan braced himself for the incoming shot, he had been under a constant assault all day and now there was more headed his way. The Patriots were up big, there was no need to play it safe and just try to score, they wanted big numbers now to pad their stat sheets. Kitan dove as the ball was fired towards the back of the net, barely brushing it with his finger tips he deflected it into the post with a clang. The ball squirted away and into the hands of rookie fullback Lenny Jowa.

Jowa had been abused all day by the veteran Patriot offense, but now with the ball in his hands he looked to make good. He darted up the field, escorted by the Hanson trio, before passing it off to Mor'kesh who was simply to gassed to run any more. The play almost broke down right there, but the team captain managed to dump the ball back to Darkrider who brought it into the offensive zone and into the hands of Lieznam.

Johnny Limmie caught the ball, and as the defense converged on him he calmly gazed out over the pitch before him. Suddenly the look of abject terror was gone from his face as he took stock of his options and fired off a perfect pass to a wide open Arock who promptly put the ball in the back of the goal for three points. The crowd roared as the Mercs were finally on the board, though no one knew that it was just a sign of things to come.

Possession after possession went the same way in the second half as the defense suddenly clamped down and the offense, under Lieznam's leadership, slowly took over the game. The rookie scored only 3 points himself, but passed off on 9 assists throughout the second half as the Mercs clawed their way back. With only 5 minutes remaining in the game the score was tied at 31, and after a Daryc over the bar point put the Mercs up by one, they never looked back. When the final blaster sounded the Mercs had come away with an improbable 38-31 victory over the Patriots and had at least for now salvaged a part of their season. Jacen could only hope that after the events of last week his own friendship with Ris'kah could be salvaged the same way...

TAG: No One.

 

IC: Lars Steelhead
Corellian Sector, Nar Shaddaa

“Watch the beam! Watch the beam!” Lars yelled to the heavy lift operator as a steel girder wobbled in the wind of the Vertical City.

Another high-rise was being rapidly built and it made Lars sick. These were apartments that were designed for the wealthy. Not the rough and tumble working classes. Not the guys who helped put it together. And certainly not for him. But like so many on this blue collar moon Lars just took it bending over. It was a job. It wasn’t his place to complain or to decry certain policies. So long as the construction jobs kept rolling in and he was being paid well that was all that mattered. Still, something about building nice places for other people bothered him.

Lars helped guide the girder into place and then lowered his blast-helmet as he turned on the blow-torch to weld a solid hold. He wasn’t taking any chances up here on the 120th floor. He had long since ignored the vertigo that went with working on tall buildings. Money had a way of soothing his mind, keeping him focused, and besides, he didn’t have time to worry about how long it would take for him to drop to the surface of Nar Shaddaa. That was assuming Nar Shaddaa had a surface to drop towards. Nobody had been down in the lower levels in a very long time. Even the poor had to migrate somewhere and even the poor had standards of their own to uphold. Nobody went down to the lower levels. Nobody.

“Senators were shot down! You catch that cheer-leader action on channel 4 last night?” Reggie yelled over the weld.

“Frak yeah I did!” Lars bellowed. “We’re 4-0, baby!”

“There’s a Storm coming. Smugglers go to Euceron. You going to hop a shuttle that way?” Reggie called out.

“Screw that its way too cold on that miserable planet. That planet kills Smugglers,” Lars roared.

“Yeah. Meredith Chambers was never the same after her injury,” Reggie moaned.

“She’s working her rear off for the team now. I got to talk to her a little bit after the Senators game,” Lars continued as he neared finished the weld.

“What she like?” Reggie asked.

“Straight shooter, no problems there. She’s got the defense playing well,” Lars observed.

“They’ll have to if they want to shut down Euceron,” Reggie replied. “Think we have a chance?”

“With this team? Hell yes. With past Smugglers teams, I would say no. But the Storm aren’t to be underestimated, Reg. They fight hard and aren’t the push-over they used to be. Expect a close game,” Lars said.

“The Storm have been to the Smugglers as Darth Vader was to Luke Skywalker,” Reggie said.

Lars finished the weld, flipped up his blast-shield, and flashed a toothy smile.

“You’ve been educating yourself. I see you are mastering the art of simile.”

Reggie shutoff the torch and replied, “All thanks to you brotha.”

“Word,” Lars said and they fist-bumped.

Tag:jcgoble3 (all the marbles on the Skywalker, JC, they are a coming....)

 

IC: Martin Vigo

The win on Agamar had been a relief. Even though it wasn’t a statement win by any means, I had reason to believe there would at least be more orange and blue in the stadium than orange and black this coming week. Both teams were struggling so re-sale ticket value wasn’t high and the weather was predicted to be nice. Unseasonably warm for this time of year, a great day to spectate a game.

As usual I was catching up on old business. It had been nearly two weeks since the food allergy incident and I still hadn’t arranged to do anything for the paramedics whose quick thinking had saved 3 lives. I finally got someone on ordering an appreciation gift for them when I got message from Bat in my in box:

Dad,

I’ve decided to do what you want me to do and sign up for a class. This isn’t a rushed decision it’s something I have wanted for a long time, I just wanted to pay you back first. That’s not really going as I had planned now that I lost one of my main sources of income with my job at the stadium. It’s just one class for now and I’m paying for it with my own credits. You may be surprised by this, but it’s a basic medical training course. No, I don’t want to be a doctor; I actually want to be a pilot. Did you know you need medical training to be a pilot? You probably did, you know everything. I’ll be quitting my dishwashing job so I have time to study, but I will continue to drive cabs. I’m trying to secure a day shift I know you’d be more comfortable with that, but so far none have become available.

-Bartholomew

I had forgotten that Bat used to talk about flying spacecraft. There was a time as a child that it was all he spoke of. I was happy he wanted to pursue his dream. I also understood why he didn’t tell me in person. He knew I’d want to pay for the class. It’s not that I didn’t admire his desire to earn his own way in life; it was that I had the opportunity to help. As a father I wanted to give my children everything I could. Here I had the opportunity to pay for his schooling so he could take several classes not just one and reach his goals earlier. The cab driving also bothered me; a day shift was only slighter better than night.

One place I could almost always find Bat was at dinner. So that evening I rushed home to join the family for dinner. It wasn’t something I did every night. Sometimes there was just too much to take care of, but tonight those things could wait. Madelyne was happy to see me; she had Spencer set a plate for me while I quickly changed into something casual. The table was still a bustling place in our house, even with two children living away from home. Justyne, Zoey, Tomas, Spencer and Bat all made their way to the table that evening. I didn’t blame them Madelyne always served the best. She knew how to locate the freshest produce and how to prepare it to perfection.

Even though I had specifically come to speak to Bat Spencer beat me to it. “Are you coming to the game this weekend Bat?” He asked before he even took a bite of food.

Bat gave his younger brother a look of complete confusion. “Game?” He asked.

“The Starkillers game. You don’t have to work anymore, so I thought you could join us in the box. It’s really great up there the best view, comfortable seats, even good food when Dad lets us order.”

I wondered what Spencer’s angle was. Bat wasted no time in asking him. “First of all, you know I don’t like Limmie. Second, if I did come I’d be sure to eat the best food before you could get your grubby hands on it. Third, I was fired from a job at the stadium less than two weeks ago and I doubt I’d exactly welcome back on the property. Fourth, you rarely even speak to me, why do you care where I’ll be during the game?”

Spencer turned to me. “Dad, would you really not let Bat come see the game?” He asked.

“Of course I’d let Bat come to a game,” I replied, still anxious for him to get to the point.

“Look just come, please.” Spencer urged.

“You haven’t given me a good reason yet.”

“I know you’re going to think this is stupid, but last week you watched the game with us and last week the Starkillers won. I want you to be there, so they can win again.”

“You’re right, I think it’s stupid.”

“What are you doing on game day?” I asked Bat.

“Sleeping.”

“You wouldn’t even consider coming to the game?” I prodded.

“Not you too,” he moaned.

“Having me buy the team was partly your idea.” I reminded him. “If your brother thinks your presence there might help them win I think you should come.”

“I wanted you to get better wages and benefits for the beings who work at the stadium, you did that.” He paused; he couldn’t resist the temptation to take a stab at me. “Those same employees are fans of the team though and I know they are frustrated with all the losses. Why don’t you find a real solution to the issue so the team starts winning?”

I was growing tired of his jabs at me, not to mention I had younger children at the table who would more than likely start to follow his example if I didn’t put a stop to it. “I know things have not gone as I’d hoped when I purchased the team. This is far from the first investment that’s taken a while to materialize. All of those investments help pay for this food and this house you enjoy, so I ask that you please stop insulting my efforts.” I paused to take a drink of water. “I want you to come to the game this week not because it may help the team win, but because I want you to spend some time with the family. Will you come?”

“Do I have to dress up?”

“As long as you’re not wearing a Gamble jersey you can wear whatever you like,” I told him.

“Who’s that?”

“Christine Gamble, she plays for the Senators.” Spencer informed him exasperated.

“I’ll think about it,” Bat said defeated.

Bat did come to the game and I ordered some of his favorites for lunch. If Richard hadn’t been in the midst of exams I would have had all 4 of my boys together at the same time and place. Something that hadn’t happened in nearly a year, maybe for the All Star game I could make that happen. Of course it was far from ideal. I allowed Spencer and Tomas to wear denim and jersey’s they took their usual seats up front where they could view the game. Bat sat in the back of the box playing a game on his data pad, he wore denim as well with a plain white t-shirt.

I didn’t let the less than perfect circumstances faze me. I took a seat next to my wife and put my arm around her, as we waited for the game to begin.

TAG: Jedi Gunny