Star Wars Super 16 Collegiate Limmie

IC: Izzi Polakaya
Mean Green Stadium

The season finale against the Citadel University of Anaxes Defenders started out as a battle of defenses. CorTech, missing starting full back Brancko Nagriski for this game due to a one-game suspension, was able to buckle down in the trenches, preventing any Defenders forward from striking first blood. For the first fifteen minutes, the game remained deadlocked at 0, and the crowd was getting restless for some scoring. But for Izzi, this was exactly what she needed from her defense; hard work, and the ability to stay firm in the face of adversity. Every time the Defenders came across the midfield line, Tank Bratter or Reena Wyley were there to make the play. Where had this been most of the season, she wondered.



Finally, a score came. CorTech was on offense after Tank made a spectacular play on a Defenders forward and forced a fumble. Mavrin Cancatch scooped up the ball and tossed it forwards to Millar Strawk, the sophomore Kiffar. Strawk skipped a pass to Jobny Bee’Guud, the sophomore Bothan, who then dodged a tackle and painted the corner of the net with a great shot. The crowd went wild as CorTech picked up their first points of the game, with Bee’Guud notching his fourth goal of the season. After a pair of bar shots by Anaxes cut the lead to 3-2, Strawk replied off a Bee’Guud feed to push a shot over the bar to make it 4-2.

“Tank! I need zone coverage!” Izzi shouted to her defensive captain. “Lock it down!” The Herglic made the changes, and the next Anaxes attack was stymied once again. Izzi looked over at the coach for Citadel; he was furious that such an easy adjustment had been made by CorTech to thwart his changes. Another advance by Citadel was bogged down by a flying Pellotti, the freshman. The ball rolled to goalie Lomin Matema, who threw it back up the field to clear it.

When the ball was caught, Izzi could see something familiar. Was Pryce Kniferunner, the offensive coordinator, thinking of the exact same play that she was? Strawk ran towards the Citadel sideline, while Bee’Guud ran the other way. Three Citadel defenders were following the Kiffar, and none were on the Bothan. Strawk faked a double move, and then pitched the option to Bee’Guud as he passed by going in the other direction. It was the same play as Izzi herself had made with running mate Alysha Romax in the 268 Galactic Cup Final, the Space Option Pitch. One Citadel defender, faked out, tripped and landed out of bounds. There was nothing but open space between the Bothan and goal, as the CorTech offense began to set blocks, Strawk doing his best Syprul Raches impression and setting a huge block that sent two Citadel players off track. Jobny hurtled towards goal, the crowd ready to cheer. The Citadel goalie steeled herself in the goal, tracking the Bothan down as he made his advance with the ball. Finally, he pump-faked, drawing her attention to one side of the goal. Big mistake, as Bee’Guud sent a rocket off his foot that smashed into the other end of the net. Another goal for Bee’Guud, 7-2 CorTech. His teammates mobbed him, happy to see that someone was picking up the scoring slack for injured forward Malida Worody.

At halftime, the score was 12-7, with some points coming up for CorTech via bar points by Dizzy Rol’per, Lumm Ferstone, Pataroni Mer and another one by Bee’Guud.

“We’re not out of the woods yet,” Martin Locke said to his team. “Citadel is only down by five, and they’ve shown at times that they can come back if we let them. Defense, we need to finish this one out by keeping up the pressure and forcing turnovers. Offense, we could use some more points. Do whatever you need to do out there to pick up some more scores. I don’t care what page of the playbook you need to open, just find whatever works and let’s break Citadel. Midfield, keep doing what you’re doing. It’s working on both sides of the ball. Any questions?”

“Coach, are we in the playoffs?” Alyda Hovechar asked.

“I’m not sure, really,” Locke said. Izzi knew that the coach knew, but it made sense to not tell the team that. If he told them the truth that they had already locked up a playoff spot coming into the game, then they might not work nearly as hard. After all, if you were guaranteed a playoff berth, why work? So what Locke was doing here was smart; keep morale up and make the kids work for their playoff seeding, whatever it would be at the end of the game.

“Come on, let’s finish this!” Gayla Renhorn said. “Citadel has nothing on us! We can go out there and blow them out of the water! We just need to focus and keep putting on the pressure!”

In the second half, Anaxes was doomed. Once again the game turned into a defensive stalemate, with the only score for a while being a bar point by Bee’Guud to push his total to 8 points scored on the day. However, Telin Wrenn, a backup junior forward, broke through a gaping hole opened up by Strawk and kicked the ball neatly over the bar for another point, pushing the lead to 14-7 with not much time remaining. With five minutes remaining, Locke readied himself to pull his starters, and Gayla noticed this out on the field. But where was Broody? She couldn’t see him on the sideline with the other subs. Finally, she shouted to Tank: “Hey, Broody isn’t coming in at the next dead ball!”


(Start at 3:16 and go Until End)

Finally, Tank yelled “Broody! Broody!” The rest of the sideline began to chant this, and finally the crowd got into it. The chant of “Broody! Broody!” began to fill the stadium, the crescendo increasing every passing moment. No doubt all of the sportscasters would be dumbfounded about this; the fans wanted to see a skinny kid who had just been cleared to play days earlier and who hadn’t played a single minute of Limmie since high school? This was insane, they were probably thinking.

Finally, Locke broke down and yelled “Broody!” Broody came up. “Get in there, son,” Locke said. Broody’s eyes lit up; he was finally going to get to play. Gayla looked at the clock; four minutes left.

“Guys! We need to score so that Broody can get out here!” she yelled to everyone in earshot. Then, taking a pass from Alyda, she jumped over a weary Citadel defender and made a bee-line for the goal. Locke was going crazy on the sidelines; he didn’t want to run up the score if he didn’t have to at this point. But Gayla was ready to get Broody in the game; she faked out the Citadel goalie and nailed a shot into the back of the net for her eighth goal of the season. 17-7 CorTech with only a few minutes left. Substitutions were then announced, and Gayla sighed. This could easily be her last time coming off the field at Mean Green Stadium, since only the top two teams in the division would have a home playoff game. Chandrila A&M and University of Kuat had already locked up their 5-2 records, so no doubt existed in Gayla’s mind that this was her final home game. As she walked off the field, she took her time, waving to the crowd one final time. The crowd gave a standing ovation to the three graduating seniors in Gayla, Tank and Reena as they all came off the field together one last time. The cheering lasted for a solid thirty seconds before play resumed. But there was Broody, standing in on defense for Tank as Matema sent the kick away to give Citadel possession once again.

The chants of “Broody! Broody!” returned, filling up the stadium once more. The tackle on the Citadel receiver was made down at the other end, and Broody ran towards the sideline. “What do I do?” he yelled to the coaches.

“Stay out there!” Izzi yelled back, waving her arms back in his direction to signify that he should go back onto the field. Broody returned to the middle, and then got a pat on the shoulder by a teammate. When Citadel went into the offensive zone, there were only fifteen seconds left. Broody came in off the edge and was blocked, but he adjusted course and smacked the Citadel ballcarrier with a frontal tackle. The crowd went wild after seeing the hit, and then cheered again as the horn sounded to end the game. The CorTech team rushed the field, Tank picking up Broody in the process. Broody raised his arms in the air in triumph as he was carried around in the air by his teammates. Finally, the procession of CorTech players made it over to the band, who played the fight song one last time for the day. All of the Mean Green players sang along, including Broody. He had done it; he had played for CorTech, and had even made a tackle. Not bad for a career he didn’t think he would have.

Finally, the team carried Broody off the field. It was truly a moment to cherish for all involved, and Broody was never going to forget any of it. The sights, the smells, the ecstasy of victory as a member of the Mean Green Limmie team. The crowd continued to stand and cheer as the team made their way into the tunnel and out of sight.

Jayla Leed
@Valorum University

Nothing the Renegades did seemed to work. Valorum kept scoring goal after goal. Jayla could just shoot herself with how she played. They would be lucky to make the playoffs with this type of effort. One of the Valorum players came running straight at Jayla.

“Concentrate Jayla, concentrate.”

She kept saying to herself over and over. But it was no use the Valorum player head butted the ball toward the opposite side of where Jayla was guarding, and made it in.

“Frak.” Jalya cursed after the goal was made. It was bad enough letting the goals in but the Renegades couldn’t score either.

They managed a paltry three points by halftime. Glad it was halftime so they can regroup, Jayla hung her head down as she and her teammates walked to the locker room.

It had to be the longest walk Jayla ever made. The Valorum fans jeered as the Renegades entered the tunnel. Jayla paid no mind. She felt she was going to be sick to her stomach. They played so bad that first half that the score was twenty to three.

Coach Lipwick came in and started telling the team that their mistakes were the reason why we were behind so badly.

“Dover, you had a chance for a steal but instead you slipped and allowed the opponent to pass you and score.”

“Leed, you were too far left at the goal post that it allowed the opponent to put a goal in to the opposite side. You had no chance to even touch the ball, let alone catch it.”

Jayla slumped as coach Lipwick singled her out. He was right she had judged badly on her spot that Valorum had an easy time scoring.

Halftime was over and the Renegades went back on to the field. The second half went as bad as the first half. Though Valorum scored less points they still managed to add ten more points to their score. UC Bella was scoreless in the second half. They had lost their third straight game in a row.

The next day it was announced which teams made the playoffs. UC Bella squeaked by as the fourth seed in their division. Jayla would have been happier but a three game losing streak was not a way to enter in to the playoffs. Not the way they been playing. They need to play better if they wish to advance or they will be watching the rest of the playoffs like everyone else, on the holonet.


TAG: No one

IC: Max Qorbus
Fondordelphia, Fondor

It was the worst game Max had ever had as a Rover. It was total agony. He could tell from the faces and the body language of the Hapans it was for them too. They were beside themselves. It killed them. The inability to score, the sieve-like defense. They were embarrassed about it. It crushed them. The Ions fans were just in heaven, spanking a team like A&M like this. Max was trying hard to pout, obviously harder than Becki who was so unhappy that she looked like she’d just found out her childhood pet had died. Morgan was trying to keep a neutral face, but every point and goal killed her. Max could see it on her face. He wondered if he looked as bad as they did. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

So there they were, the three of them plus half the other starters, standing on the sidelines in their A&M sweaters and jackets, not even dressed for the game by fiat of the Old Dog. “I will not have the Ions taking a cheap shot at my best players when we’ve locked up a playoff berth,” Cordell said to the furious starters earlier in the week at practice, “I want you all 100% healthy. Get over those little injuries so you can take it to them in the playoffs. I don’t care about being 6-1. I care about going to the Carnation Bowl and if there’s anyone in here who feels differently, there’s the door.”

And so the starters watched sullenly as their backups got whipped by the Ions who were fighting for their own playoff hopes and motivated beyond the desire of a backup player to show they had what it takes. Clearly, the Rovers’ reserves had a long way to go before they were ready to cut it in the Super 16.

“I would wipe their smirks off their faces so fast,” Becki grumbled.

“Their half backs suck. I mean they literally suck,” Morgan said with her teeth on edge, “The holes are huge. We should be whooping them into the middle of next week.”

“You could fly a speeder through the holes in our D right now,” Becki said as the Ions exploited another one.

Max just kept silent. His replacement at corner forward had taken bad shots and missed them. The pressure was too much. Max had experienced it himself, but he’d still at least gotten on net when he’d shot. The experience would toughen the kid up, which would be good for the Rovers next year when Max was graduated, but Max just wished he could have been out there today. No small part of his feelings stemmed from the fact that there was part of him that wanted to make one last final push for the Helmsman Trophy. He’d never admit it to anyone, especially the Old Dog, but he wanted to bring that home, to be recognized as the best player in college Limmie. After all, he wouldn’t keep the trophy—that would reside in A&M’s hall of fame. But he would have loved that moment of glory all the same. Sure, he wanted to go to the Carnation Bowl—heck, he didn’t just want to go, he wanted to win it. But he wouldn’t mind going with the Helmsman Trophy in his back pocket. But with only six games on the season it was unlikely he’d get it.

When the game was over, a deflated team retreated to the visitors’ locker room where Cordell addressed them before they were allowed to undress. “Raise your hand if you enjoyed that out there,” he said the room stared back sullenly, “Good, because I didn’t either. Are you happy right now Qorbus?”

“No, sir,” Qorbus said.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you feeling sorry for yourself,” Cordell said.

“I said no, sir,” Max returned, louder.

“Allesh, are you happy?”

“No sir,” Morgan said, loud.

“Morlan?”

“No, sir,” the other Hapan said.

“Good. Because if you feel this bad after this game, imagine how you’ll feel if you blow it when it really counts in the playoffs,” Cordell said. And with that he left the locker room.

Tag: @DubyaScott, my playoff opponent

IC: Izzi Polakaya
Mean Green Stadium

Mean Green Stadium was the site of utter pandemonium. CorTech, for so long stomped on, ground into tiny dust particles, blasted into oblivion year after year on the Limmie pitch, finally had reason to celebrate. Somehow, against all odds during this magical 270 season, against the face of losing close friends, of losing teammates to injury and things beyond their control, they came out as the Number One seed in the Kayl’hen Division playoff bracket. Ahead of Kuat, ahead of the Rovers of Chandrila A&M. It was time to show that a 5-2 regular season record, forged from the hard work that helped win championships, was not a fluke. This was for everyone who had ever dreamed of better days, who had been downtrodden by opponents. This was their time to shine.

On the other side today were the College of Fondordelphia Ions, who had come in two weeks earlier and taken home the Golden Datapad trophy in the Techmo Bowl rivalry match. However, that game had gotten ugly near the end after one of the Ions’ Tullo brothers decked CorTech freshman forward Malida Worody, causing her to be taken off the field minutes later on a cart with what was feared to be a season-ending concussion. CorTech players Brancko Nagriski and Gayla Renhorn had reacted in response to this, and both had dealt with penalties from their actions. But they didn’t care; the Tullos were going to pay, their smug grins ready to be wiped off their faces when someone decided that it was time for a little payback.

“Now, I want this to be a clean game,” Martin Locke said to his team before the game. “I don’t want this to become another grudge match, OK? If we win today, and I certainly know that we can, that suspensions will definitely hurt us. So don’t react if the Ions egg you on; the crowd will eat them alive if they step out of line again, and I hope that the refs will keep tabs on those troublemakers. But that also means that we will be under a microscope as well. So play smart Limmie and don’t commit dumb penalties like last time, because those will only kill our momentum again.”

Izzi stood on the sideline as the ball was kicked off to start the game. The Ions had put up 20 the week before on the Rover backup defense, so they could score. But if her defense had to say anything about it, it would be the Ions, not CorTech, going down in defeat today. She had faith in her players; now they needed to prove her right.

IC: Max Qorbus
Marbury Stadium, Serenity, Chandrila

The Rovers had lost once to the Destroyers already this season. They had come out determined not to do it a second time, when it really mattered. With a home crowd behind them they’d come out strong, playing Rovers Limmie, the sort that had served them so well this season. The 8-2 lead was a good way to begin.

But the Destroyers just hung in there, stubbornly and little bit little started closing the gap. Max could feel it. Both teams were playing hard, with desperation. Every surge by A&M energized the home crowd. Every penetration by Kuat pierced them, deflating their enthusiasm. The team fed off of the crowd. Cordell was trying to keep them level, but it was hard with so much emotion in the game. The defense was having particular trouble keeping their footing and it was turning into a high scoring affair. It was just what the Nautolan wanted. This was his kind of game, a game he could take in hand.

And Max was showing all the poise expected of a Senior. When he had the ball and looked to shoot, he stood tall, squared his feet, and rifled it. Rheaume was playing well, though not so well that Max hadn’t collected two goals against her. There was space to be found against the Destroyers. Not much, but it was there and Qorbus was taking it.

But Kuat kept plodding along, slow, steady, whittling the lead away—until it was gone entirely. And then they started building the barest of cushions. Just a point or two, which fluctuated as the Hapan kicked long points to stay in the hunt. It was a small lead, but it was holding and it was enough.

Cordell called a timeout with a minute left in the game and got his players together. The starters had been all day long. Max looked around at his teammates and saw that the game had taken a toll on them. He was breathing heavily too, but he wasn’t about to give up. There was only a minute left. He’d collapse on the field if he had to. This season had been too good to end now.

“Down by two guys,” Cordell said, “We need a goal, plain and simple. Flood the zone. Midfielders, in deep. Corners, post up and get open. These guys are not that good on defense. We can beat them if we take our time and get our shot.” He looked up at Qorbus. “You’ve played your entire career for this. You’ve got this.” He looked at the Hapans. “You have space, you take it. I don’t care how deep you get. Stay onsides. We do this right here. This is our time. You give it everything out there.”

Max went back to the field to await the throw in from the sideline. The A&M fans were on their feet and loud. They knew that this was the Rovers’ last stand and they had to be there for them, their maroon and tan warriors. Max could feel the Destroyers hovering around him, waiting to lay him out. They knew the bolo-ball was going to come to him and he wasn’t going to let them have the satisfaction.

The ball came into play and worked back to the Midfielders, who were high in the zone pressing the attack. They worked it up to the half forwards, who set up staggered and worked back and forth amongst each other, moving the Destroyers around. Eventually they’d twisted up the half backs so much that Allesh had room to take and she powered into the zone. Max knew her body language well—she was looking to shoot. He cycled into the high slot as Allesh drove.

Morgan fired and the bolo-ball was blocked away by some Kuat defender. The ensuing scrum for the ball was sheer chaos. Max stayed away from it, letting other forwards claw for it. And then it came out and was hurled back to Morlan. She held it, set her feet to shoot, and drew two defenders to her. She fired the ball—to Max. The Nautolan was ready and cleanly fielded it. He felt a Destroyer coming and side stepped, sending the defender skidding across the grass.

The crowd was yelling to shoot, but curiously Max heard nothing. The other players on the field disappeared and it was just him and Rheaume. The two of them would decide this now, nobody else. Max felt like he moved in slow motion. It was almost an out-of-body experience because he didn’t think about what he was doing, he just did. He planted both feet, pulled the ball back, and in a great overhand crescent launched it towards the goal, spinning its way to greatness. He’d picked the far side of the net, top shelf. At this angle, Rheaume wouldn’t have a chance. She didn’t. It went over her hand, still in slow motion. Max knew that everyone was watching only one thing now: the ball and nothing else. It was free and clear now, nothing could stop it.

Until it hit the far side post and ricocheted back into the field of play and suddenly the roar of the crowd, shrieking in disbelief, came back to him and life moved at regular speed again.

A Destroyer fell on it and curled into a fetal position. The Rovers dove for it to wedge it out, but the horn sounded before another two seconds passed.

In disbelief, Max stood there and laced his hands behind his head. It couldn’t be over. Not like this. Not now. He suddenly found himself sitting on the ground, not having realized that his legs had given from under him. The crowd was still crying out. Half of them didn’t know what was going on.

It couldn’t be over.

The Destroyers were whooping and the Rovers were standing around aimlessly. Cordell was already crossing the field to congratulate Conn Smythe on the victory.

It couldn’t be over.

Max got to his feet and saw Morgan with her head buried against Becki’s shoulder. Calli Webb, the Mon Calamari in her first year starting on the squad, had large wet eyes right now. Max wanted to say something to her, but had no words for anyone. They’d left him.

It was over.

There was nothing to do now but leave. He was no longer a collegiate Limmie player. Max looked up at the stands of fans who were now silent, the season over, to remember it for one last time as he began to drag his feet back to the locker room.

A hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Tough way to end it Max, but you did me proud, son.” Max turned and found these words coming from the most unlikely source: Hexton Cordell. “Now go finish it right.” He gave Max an encouraging pat on the back.

Max looked over and he saw Argo Mor’kesh, Vishar Morndu, and Garf Tamarack, the other Seniors, headed for the field in front of the student section. It was then that remembered there was one more tradition at A&M he’d yet to take part in, one that would be his true last memory as a college Limmie player.

He joined his fellow Seniors and took his spot at the end of the line. Argo put his arm around Max’s shoulder and the Nautolan did the same.

And it’s no, nay, no never!

Clap clap clap returned the students, the alumni, the fellow players, and even the Old Dog.

No, nay, never, no more
Shall I play the wild rover
No, never, no more

The once sweet song touched Max differently now. The words weren’t quite so carefree. He’d never be a wild rover. No, he wouldn’t. But he’d be an old rover. And he’d had good days as a wild rover, days he’d never forget, no matter how far he roved.

Tag: @Dubya_Scott

IC: Gayla Renhorn
Mean Green Stadium, Forrest Heights, Coruscant



Gayla felt another numbing lump form itself in her throat as she watched Mena Green goalie Lomin Matema give up yet another goal. The College of Fondordelphia, somehow, in some way, was destroying the top-seeding Mean Green on their own turf, and Gayla was bearing witness to it first-hand. Every time she ran up the field, the Ions were there to put her down. Every time she threw a pass, they were there to intercept it. Nothing had been working today, and every few seconds she looked at the clock, hoping that somehow it would reverse course and grant CorTech more time to right the ship.

But time marched ever onwards. As the score piled higher for the Ions, the Mean Green’s score stayed still at 2, not budging a bit despite the effort being put up by Gayla’s teammates. Finally, Coach Locke had seen enough, and Gayla looked to the sidelines as her replacement, Javan Harpor, readied himself to take the field. It then occurred to Gayla that this was the final time that she would play in a Super 16 game. Her college career was over, and it ended in all the wrong ways. When the whistle blew for the timeout, Gayla’s eyes closed as she refused to watch Harpor come on the field to replace her. All she had done over her five years at CorTech, all the hardships, all the sacrifices, all the victories, all the defeats, they came rushing back into her memory like an angry stream, flooding her sense of consciousness. This was it; there was no ‘next year’ anymore. She had simply run out of years in which to don the CorTech jersey, and for the first time in a long time, Gayla Renhorn was speechless. She just couldn’t process that it was all over.

As she stood numb on the field, Gayla could feel a firm hand descend onto her shoulder. She opened her eyes and looked up straight into the face of Tank Bratter, whom she had shared the last four years of Limmie hardships with. The Herglic seemed a lot less depressed, but it was evident that he was also unhappy with the situation. But along with that disappointment was a sense of calm that Tank always brought when the two were paired up; Gayla was the hothead who could fire up the team, and Tank was the glue that kept everyone on the same page. Gayla had no doubt that she would play professionally at some point in the future; all of the pundits thought that she had a bright Limmie future ahead of her. But she was nothing without Tank; they were the two sides of the same coin, and were perfect in their complementary roles.

“You OK?” Tank asked.

“I . . . I can’t believe it . . . it’s over . . .” Gayla said, crushed.

“I know,” Tank said, the disappointment in his tone cutting through his speech. “But look around you. They’re playing our song.”

Gayla looked up. Not a seat was occupied by Mean Green fans in the stadium. They were all standing, and began to applaud raucously. Despite the score, despite the absolute drubbing that they were witnessing, no one had left their seats. They got to cheer their departing seniors off the field one last time, and were intent on making it a lasting memory that the players would never forget. The band began to play the fight song one last time to honor what the seniors had done for the team during their time at CorTech. Tank steered Gayla towards the sideline, where they were met by Reena Wyley. The other starters then began to file in from the field, each one of them getting a last word or two with the seniors and then taking their places on the bench to mull the game.

When Gayla got to Coach Locke, she looked up at him. “We lost . . .” Gayla said.

“I know,” Locke said. “But given what we did this season, there is no such thing as a loss. You did well, Gayla, and you showed everyone around here what it takes to be a leader. It’ll be hard having to replace you in form, but there will never be another you.” Then he gave Gayla a big hug, which comforted the hurt senior a little more. Despite the loss, Locke still believed that she had accomplished everything she was capable of, and that meant the galaxy to her.

When the game finally ended, the fans in the stadium waited around to see their Mean Green walk off the field for the last time. For most of them, they would be back the next year to see how this misfit group of young players would hold up with all this momentum. But for those who were graduating, this was the end of their college career. On the bench, Gayla had draped a towel over her head, and had pulled her jersey over her mouth as the tears came down her eyes. But, this time it was Broody who came over to talk to her.

“We did good,” Broody said quietly. “Real good.”

“I failed, Broody, I failed . . .” Gayla said, staring straight ahead.

“You know, a wise woman once told me that I had nothing to prove except what I achieved in my career,” Broody replied. “I fulfilled my goals by playing this season. What do you have to prove, Gayla? You succeeded at everything that was put in front of you; you’re just as successful as me. So buck up and leave with CorTech pride. Because I know I am.”

“You’re right,” Gayla said. She took the towel off her head and put her jersey back in place. Then, for the final time, she raised her fist in the air. The crowd responded with their CorTech chant, filling up Mean Green Stadium with the sounds of thousands of voices in unison. Broody was right; she had proven herself in every respect. And now, despite the loss, everyone would know that CorTech was here to stay.


TAG: No One

GM Post

As provisionally discussed in Out of Bounds, here is your four player Helmsman Trophy ballot for the best collegiate Limmie player. Sure, there are other conferences than the Super 16...but like with real life national media they don't get paid attention to.

The Helmsman Trophy Ballot

• Jayla Leed, UC Bella Vistal
• Maximus Qorbus, Chandrila A&M University
• Gayla Renhorn, Coruscant Polytechnic Institute
• Tarpals, The Ord Saboak University

Send all votes to me via private message by October 7. The Helmsman Trophy will be announced at the Coruscant Athletic Club prior to the Galactic Championship Bowl on October 13.

Tag: @Bardan_Jusik @CPL_Macja @Jedi Gunny @JEDI_TEEGIRLOO @JediMaster_1977 @Liam_Vehn @spycoder9

IC: Max Qorbus
Loyal Friend Pub, Chandrila A&M University, Serenity, Chandrila

To the chagrin of his Xenobiology professor, a loud mob of Max’s teammates had literally invaded the classroom and dragged him out in a cacophony of noise and confusion. He didn’t know what was going on until somehow through all the shouting he was able to concentrate on Allesh’s voice.

“You’re a finalist! You’re a finalist!” he finally made out.

It wasn’t too much longer before someone finally calmed down enough to use intelligible words to tell Max that the Coruscant Athletic Club had announced the four finalists for the Helmsman Trophy, which it handed out annually. Max just about collapsed from the news, but he didn’t need to worry because he was being held up and whisked along by the team. The news was clearly starting to spread through the campus and the number of irked professors was growing exponentially as students opened windows and hung out them to cheer the passing Limmie team and Max. The crowd around them was gathering momentum and soon their destination was evident: the Loyal Friend, which was already surprisingly packed for a weekday afternoon, but apparently the student body wanted to celebrate.

And the best part was that now that he was no longer a student-athlete, beings could buy Max as many drinks as they wanted. This was going to be fun.

It wasn’t too long before Becki was up on the bar, her head nearly hitting the ceiling. “HEY! HEY!” she shouted to get everyone’s attention. It worked and pretty soon everyone was looking at her. She took a deep breath and began.



“In the year ABY One Hundred And Six
We took off from the spacepad into the black
We were just a bunch of young kids looking for kicks
To beat the StarBucks out in Ord Saboak
We had an ill-laden craft
She was scorched fore and aft
And oh how the wild winds drove her
She had twenty-seven ports
And ferried us to our sports
And we called her the Chandra Rover!”

“HEY!” the bar shouted back, “HEY!”

It was an old song about a road trip gone wrong. Had it ever really happened? Well no one ever knew, but it was one of those songs that got bandied about in the bars around A&M all the time. Max was quite pleased to sing along. After all, pretty soon the pro teams were going to come knocking and he’d never be able to have a moment like this again. Sure, he could come back as an alumnus, but it wouldn’t be the same. He had to enjoy this now, the faces of Becki and Morgan, the care free days, the Pantoran girl.

The Pantoran girl?

There she was, on the other side of the bar.

Max didn’t even hesitate. He’d been prevented from talking to her once before by a crowd, so he wasn’t going to bother with pushing his way through. He vaulted over the bar in the middle of the song, rushed along behind the bar, and slid to a halt in front of her. She looked at him with a cocked eyebrow.

“I don’t think they let students back there,” she said, “At least that’s what they said when they yelled at my friend when she got drunk.”

“I think nobody’s going to complain about me being back here today,” Max said confidently.

“Why’s that?”

“Didn’t you hear?” Max said with confusion, “I’m a finalist for the Helmsman Trophy.”

“What’s that?”

Max blinked at the Pantoran. “It’s…uh…a big deal….I hate to ask this, but do you know who I am?”

“The Nautolan who’s behind the bar right now,” the Pantoran said innocently.

“I’m Maximus Qorbus. I…well I used to play Limmie here.”

“Oh Limmie. People keep telling me I should go to the games. So is this Helmsman Trophy thing a big deal?”

“Not as big a deal as getting your number.” Where that had come from Max didn’t know. It had just come out.

The Pantoran laughed. “We’ll see about that. Since you’re back there how about you pour some beer?”

“You know what, that sounds like a fantastic idea!” the regular bartender said, clapping Max on the shoulder, “Celebrity bartender today everyone! Don’t tip him too well, he’s gonna be getting the big Elite League money soon, I can tell!”

The bar cheered and began clamoring with orders.

“Hey, before I lose you,” Max said to the Pantoran, “How about I at least get your name?”

“Zathalie,” she said, “Nice to meet you Maximus Qorbus. Now pour me a weiss, will you?”

“You bet,” Max said with a grin.

Tag: None

IC: Gayla Renhorn

“Hey, sleepyhead!” came a voice from out of the blue. Gayla groggily looked up at teammate/roommate/best friend Reena Wyley as her head rested on the pillow.

“What did I say about giving me some time to sleep here?” Gayla asked half-heartedly. Since she was no longer having to wake up for early-morning practices with the Limmie squad, she took the opportunity to sleep in when she could. Yeah, sleeping in was nice, and here Reena just had to interrupt her during her alone time in sleep space.

“Hey, I would think that being named a Helmsman finalist would be cause enough to bother you,” the Hapan said. Gayla shot out of her daze like a cannon, sitting up immediately.

“Me, a Helmsman candidate? There’s no way . . . the last time I checked, they didn’t exactly like us . . .”

“See for yourself,” Reena said, handing her roommate a datapad. Gayla looked at it. Sure enough, her name was right in the mix, amongst two goalies from the other division of the Super 16 and Quorbus from A&M. Well, she certainly hadn’t expected to see that, not after that outstanding effort they had put forward the week prior in that huge loss to the College of Fondordelphia in the playoffs. But, apparently someone out there liked her, and had put her name on the list.

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” Gayla asked inquisitively.

“You could be a little happier about it,” Reena said. “You know, at least show some sort of emotion about it.”

Gayla smiled very quickly before going back to her “trademarked” disinterested face. “There, was that enough?”

“No, stupid,” Reena said. She then grabbed Gayla’s arm and proceeded to drag her out of the room, much to Gayla’s chagrin. She was being pulled away from sleep, something that new-look Gayla seemed to be sorely lacking and trying to compensate for.

Reena dragged Gayla out into the hallway, where she was bombarded by random people. Everyone seemed to be excited about it, but Gayla, still bleary-eyed, was still trying to wake up enough to look interested. Some of her teammates were in the mob, and they started to say to her that this was quite the honor. Finally, Gayla tried to say something, but it came out more as wild jibberish than anything else. How odd. Reena quieted the crowd, leaving Gayla and her sleep-deprivation alone in the midst of empty space.

“Uh . . . hooray?” Gayla said, more as a question than anything else.

However, this was enough to fire up the entire crowd once again, and they picked Gayla up and carried her on their shoulders as they went down the hall and towards the grounds.

“I’m never going to survive my classes today,” Gayla commented to Reena as she walked alongside the throng of people.

“Don’t worry about it,” Reena said. “Being a finalist means a bit more than any old class.”

“Apparently you’ve never met my professor,” Gayla said. This was going to be a long day indeed, and one most likely without adequate sleep.

Jayla Leed
Republic University

It was now or never. It’s the playoffs and the Renegades come in with a losing streak. All that was out the window. They start over playing the number one seed Republic University. Jayla was on a roll she was getting the stops that she needed and the rest of the team was scoring left to right. Everything was going their way. Republic wasn’t able to stop them at all. It was like all their frustration that they had for the last few weeks was letting loose.

It felt good to be winning by such a large margin. Jayla knew that they had to blow off steam sometime and now was perfect timing. The Republic Uni player was coming right at her. Jayla was in a squat position leaning side to side waiting for the ball to come.

“Get ready now Jayla it’s coming.” she said to herself then the ball was kicked at a fast pace Jayla dove reaching her hands toward the corner, which was the direction of where the ball was heading. Jayla’s hands grabbed hold of the ball as she skidded on the grass. That was all the time left in regulation, which meant that the Renegades would advance to the Division Championship against OSU, who already won their match against Valorum.

Jayla and the rest of the team tackled hugged one another to the ground with sheer enjoyment. They were so happy to get this far, but knew that they will have their hands full with OSU.

TAG: @Bardan_Jusik if you want to it's just a mention.

Jayla Leed
Crendan Division Championship - OSU

The Renegades had come in to the playoffs with a losing streak after having a good head start in the beginning. But it was enough to make the playoffs. They beat Republic University Which gave them their confidence back. They were now on a roll.

OSU was a tough team to beat but in the end they had done it. They had moved on to the Super 16 Championship. All their struggles left behind. Jayla was so excited that things were finally going right again for the team. Though she was a Junior she had thought about going into the draft early. She had alot to think about but now wasn’t the time. They had just won the Division Championship.

The next game was in a couple of days and Jayla had to prepare. It was straight to work because their next opponent was the University of Kuat. Another tough team and this was the championship they needed to get focused because this game was going to be one helluva game. Jayla couldn’t wait. Adrenaline was going up and down her body. She declined to talk to the press because she wanted to keep her focused on the next opponent. She felt that if she talked it would be jinxed. Apparently the other players on the Renegades thought of this as well. They were going to let their play do the talking instead of trashing Kuat in the media.

TAG: No one

GM Post
Bakura Fleet Academy, Bakura

"Ladies and gentlemen if the Pioneers can hold this advantage with the last thirty seconds left as the Ensigns press the attack, we are going to see something special here. Clarver takes a shot--he's stopped! It's back to Ohrrmack she shoots--it's blocked! Quevee has it--stopped! They're mixing it up on the pitch! I can't hear a thing with the crowd! It's insanity! Madness! Clarver's got it again--THEY BLOCK IT AGAIN! Will the Ensigns get another try? No! The buzzer sounds! The Pioneer fans who have made this journey to a game no one expected them to win are taking the field! They are on the field and this home crowd is shocked, stunned, blown away! Oh my stars this is the most exciting end to a Bak10 season I have ever seen! The UBTV Pioneers have upset the undefeated Fleet Academy Ensigns and will win the Back10 on the tiebreak with an 8-1 season record! The Pioneers who just two seasons ago were a laughing stock with a winless season have brought Robbard Mc'Alpine's fusiliers to their knees! There is absolute pandemonium out there! Oh doctor! The Pioneers have done it! The Pioneers have done it! They are going to the Carnation Bowl at Cape Suzette for the first time in over 25 years! They said it couldn't be done, but Bryan Cluffand Petr Taylurr have triumphed!"

Such was the narration on BBC Sports at the end of the University of Bakura, Telaan Valley/Bakura Fleet Academy game. UBTV had entered the game with a conference record of 7-1, eking out wins against the perennial contenders at the College of Deredith & Millicent, smacked down a resurgent University of Evenvale, and overturned the UBSD Golden Bears. The Fleet Academy had run the table, their smallest margin of victory being 16 points. And now, they stood at 8-1 with the Pioneers and would share the Bak10 championship, but be denied the Carnation Bowl berth thanks to losing this one game to the Pioneers.

Robbard Mc'Alpine, the steely tenured head coach of the Ensigns, was shaking hands with the short and cocky Bryan Cluff, head coach of the Pioneers. He shared duties, namely recruiting and scouting, with his Assistant Coach, the doughy Petr Taylurr. Unheard by the microphones and cameras crowding the meeting of the two coaches, Mc'Alpine spoke into Cluff's ear and patted him on the back before grimly crossing. Mulling around on the field were the loyal Pioneer fans who had hoped against hope and made the trek from the fertile agricultural heartland of Bakura.

The BBC sideline reporter corralled Cluff after his congratulations from Mc'Alpine. "Bryan, Robbard Mc'Alpine is one of the greatest coaches ever to prowl the sidelines of the Bak10. What did he say to you just now?"

"Well I don't think he's that good. I mean, I just beat his all-star squad with a bunch of players that nobody else wanted, that nobody thought could win one game in this conference let alone 8 of them. I mean, if I had the next starting roster for the Miners like Mc'Alpine did I would have done a fair sight better," Cluff said.

"Bryan, what does it mean to you to be going to the Carnation Bowl?"

"What does it mean? What kind of a silly question is that? It's bloody fantastic! I tell you, what we've done here is the feel-good story of the year in college Limmie. Petr--where's Petr? Where's Petr!!" Cluff bellowed. Somehow his Assistant Coach who did not love the cameras as much as his partner did was pushed to his side. "Petr Taylurr, this man is, without question, the best eye for talent on this planet, probably in this sector, and I'd give even money in the galaxy." Cluff put one arm around Taylurr's shoulders. "He finds gems nobody else does and we polish them into gleaming jewels. You old bugger." Cluff ruffled Taylurr's hair. "And I'd just like to say to all the doubters, all the naysayers, you ain't seen nothing yet because we're the frakking Pioneers!"

With that, Cluff abandoned the reporter and joined the celebrations of the Pioneer fans.

The Super 16 was coming to Bakura. The Carnation Bowl was officially on.

Tag: @Dubya_Scott

IC: Maximus Qorbus
Chandrila A&M University, Serenity, Chandrila

“You look hot,” Zathalie told Maximus.

“You’re just saying that because I let you pick the shirt,” Maximus responded.

“I think we all know that you look best with blue on you,” the Pantoran said with an arched eyebrow.

“I prefer a different shade, actually,” Maximus said.

“Maybe later, slugger,” Zathalie said with a mischievous grin, “I think you’ve got some business to take care of.”

“If you say so.”

Zathalie gave Maximus a good luck kiss and he left the prep room and crossed the hall.

“…rank him among the finest players I’ve had the privilege of coaching here at A&M. It’s my pleasure to introduce to you now Maximus Qorbus,” Hexton Cordell said to the assembled media.

The hardened reporters, used to seeing players like this all the time, didn’t applaud but the cameras flashed and the holorecorders rolled. Max sat down in front of a microphone and took out his prepared remarks.

“Thank you Coach Cordell,” Max said, “It’s truly been an honor to be a Rover for the last four years. I’ve been privileged to play this beautiful game and receive a top-notch education in return. To have my career capped off by being a Helmsman finalist is overwhelming. Never did I think that I would be so honored.

“As a result, there has been a lot of interest in my future as a Limmie player, including tentative offers from several professional teams. Since it appears that the prospect of professional Limmie lays before me, it is appropriate for me to state my plans in this regard.

“I have decided to enter the Elite League Limmie Draft. Playing in the Elite League has always been a dream and I want to signal to Elite League teams that I am serious about playing at the highest level of this game. Once again, I am so thankful that Chandrila A&M gave me this opportunity to prove myself and I hope I will do them proud in the Elite League. Thank you and I’ll see you all at the Coruscant Athletic Club for the Helmsman Trophy presentation.”

With that, Max smiled. He was on his way now.

Tag: All ELL Draft teams

IC: University of Kuat Destroyers

It was a huge game. A big, well-deserved victory for the University of Kuat. And a perfect "farewell" game for the Senior Gump Worsley. He was a monster on those defensive plays.

The school held a big celebration for the team and their championship win. In attendance was Med and Millie Braden, both were U of K alumni. As a matter of fact, they met while playing limmie for the University of Kuat many years ago. The Nadiem Chiefs players were welcomed with open arms. They had arrived on Kuat just in time to catch the game.

But after the celebration, it was back to work as usual for the Super 16 champs. The Carnation Bowl was approaching.

TAG: Whomever...