Quentin kept limping along, not saying anything. He’d used the needles, sure, but he’d won that fight fairly... hadn’t he? The drugs couldn’t have kicked in that fast. It had been only seconds.
They reached the training room and helped each other inside. Doc Patah was waiting for them.
He was a non-Human, and usually very hard to read, but something about his demeanor froze both Quentin and Ju in place.
“Look at you,” Doc Patah said. “Such idiocy, such risk of team assets. I wish I owned the Krakens myself, so I could legally vent you both.”
“Well you don’t own the Krakens,” Ju said. “So we need some fixin’ up.”
That heavy sigh from the Harrah doctor’s speakerfilm. “Fine. Which one of you will be first?”
Ju smiled and slapped Quentin’s right shoulder. Even that hurt.
“Q first,” Ju said. Oddly, his voice seemed louder than usual, prouder than usual. “He’s my team captain. I can wait.”
His face still a sheet of blood, Ju helped Quentin to the first rejuve tank.
He’s my captain.
And just like that, Quentin knew the ordeal of Ju Tweedy’s intentional fumbling was over. As ridiculous as it seemed, a basic street brawl had settled their differences.
It was Quentin’s team. Period.
The only question was, would Ju run hard enough for the Krakens to win their final two games?
GFL WEEK ELEVEN ROUNDUP
(Courtesy of Galaxy Sports Network)
• • •
With only two games remaining in the GFL’s 25th Anniversary season, a pair of teams are closing in on a Planet Division title. Themala (7-3) is peaking at just the right time, winning its sixth straight to move into a two-way tie for first with the Isis Ice Storm. Isis (7-3) knocked off a fellow first-place holder for the second week in a row, this time edging out Coranadillana (6-4) by a score of 27-24. The To Pirates (6-4) dropped to second thanks to a hard loss to the Wabash Wolfpack (6-4), who are still hungry to claim a playoff spot. The Yall Criminals (6-4) want a shot at that playoff berth as well, winning their third straight by topping the plummeting Mars Planets 17-13.
The top three in the Solar continue to rack up wins. New Rodina (9-1) remains in first, still just a single game ahead of Jupiter (8-2) and Neptune (8-2). With this week’s wins, all three of those teams mathematically locked up playoff berths.
The fourth and final Solar Division playoff spot is down to a race between the Bord Brigands (6-4) and the D’Kow War Dogs (5-5). The Brigands beat the ‘Dogs in Week Seven, which means for D’Kow to make the playoffs they have to win their last two while the Brigands lose their final pair.
In Solar relegation land, the Chillich Spider-Bears (1-9) are still alive despite a 14-10 loss to fellow cellar-dweller Vik Vanguard (2-8). The Jang Atom Smashers (3-7) picked the perfect time to come alive, landing a 35-0 knockout on the Sala Intrigue.
In the Planet Division, the Mars Planets (4-6) just need one more win or one more Ionath loss to stay in Tier One for another season. That looks most likely, as Ionath travels to Jupiter to face the 8-2 Jacks. Ionath must win that game and beat Mars in Week Thirteen and see the Planets lose next week’s game against the Hittoni Hullwalkers (5-5).
Deaths
No deaths reported this week.
Offensive Player of the Week
New Rodina quarterback Rick Renaud, who threw three touchdowns in a 18-for-26, 278-yard performance.
Defensive Player of the Week
Vik defensive tackle Ar-Cham-Balt, who had four solo tackles and eleven assists for the Vanguard.
WEEK TWELVE: IONATH KRAKENS at JUPITER JACKS
PLANET DIVISION
7-3 Isis Ice Storm
7-3 Themala Dreadnaughts
6-4 Coranadillana Cloud Killers
6-4 To Pirates
6-4 Wabash Wolfpack
6-4 Yall Criminals
5-5 Alimum Armada
5-5 Hittoni Hullwalkers
5-5 Lu Juggernauts
4-6 Mars Planets
2-8 Ionath Krakens
SOLAR DIVISION
9-1 x-New Rodina Astronauts
8-2 x-Jupiter Jacks
8-2 x-Neptune Scarlet Fliers
6-4 Bord Brigands
5-5 D’Kow War Dogs
3-7 Bartel Water Bugs
3-7 Jang Atom Smashers
3-7 Sala Intrigue
3-7 Shorah Warlords
2-8 Vik Vanguard
1-9 Chillich Spider-Bears
(x = playoff berth clinched, y = division clinched)
Excerpt from Sorensen’s Guide to the Galaxy:
The Jupiter Net Colony
At the turn of the 25th century (ErT), the Planetary Union had reached an exploratory standstill. Massive governmental investment to develop infrastructure on the Mars Colony, Capizzi, and Satirli 6 had driven Union tax rates to over fifty percent. Taxes on “the rich” actually exceeded sixty percent. The heavy demands on business and wage earners were needed to prop up the then non-existent economies of those three worlds.
Oppressive tax rates shut down business expansion and investment. As businesses stopped spending, a recession set in. When that recession dove headlong into a depression, President Carmella Abreziad initiated two dramatic acts that forever changed the Planetary Union.
Her first bold decision was the cultural and technological exchange with the Harrah Tribal Accord. The Harrah wanted peaceful access to Jupiter and Saturn, both to develop resources and as a colonization zone for its people. The Harrah had achieved FTL capability just sixteen years earlier in 2448. They wanted to start stretching their wings, no pun intended, but were too new of a space-faring race to field a navy or a colonization fleet. The technology exchange gave the Harrah access to Planetary Union shipbuilding capability, while the Harrah shared their skills for developing resources on gas giants.
The President’s second move branched directly off the first by creating the Sol System Free Trade Zone. The SSFTZ, or “S-Fitz,” as it came to be known, opened up Venus, Saturn, Neptune, and Jupiter as tax-free areas for business development. Private enterprises were welcome to create orbiting stations around any of those planets. Permanent land settlements were not allowed, but temporary land leases were granted allowing for the mining of natural resources. Abreziad also opened up work visas for Harrah citizens, allowing private companies to hire them almost at will.
It was a shocking policy: four planets instantly opened up to both private enterprise and an alien workforce. This created a 25th century “gold rush,” where businesses large and small, inventors, entrepreneurs, and fortune seekers flocked to the S-Fitz. Rapid-fire growth ensued. The tax-free status allowed business to pour money into development of orbital stations and mining developments. While development on Mars Colony stagnated, the S-Fitz flourished.
Within two decades, all four of the planets had hundreds of orbital stations. Those hundreds grew to thousands; stations ranging from the size of small towns to million-plus habitations like Jupiter’s Red Storm City. The sheer number of orbitals led to the need for centralized, planet-local governance.
In 2488, President Abreziad signed the Net Colony Act. All four of the outer-system planets were awarded full voting rights in the Planetary Union. Because the vast majority of the population lived in orbital stations, the “Net Colony” term referred to the shell of orbitals interlinked by trade, travel, and tourism.
Now nearly two centuries later, the majority of the Net Colonies’ inhabitants still live in orbit. Surface habitations are few in number, and are considered to be temporary settlements under the control of their respective Net government. Large flocks of free-roaming Harrah populate all four planets. Most of the Harrah in these systems are third- and even fourth-generation Planetary Union.
Jupiter and Neptune Net Colonies each have populations of over 275 million. Saturn Net Colony boasts 185 million, while the scrappy citizens of the Venus Net Colony number 15 million.
&nb
sp; The largest cities of the Net Colonies are Jupiter’s Red Storm City, with 1.8 million, and Neptune’s Trident City, with 1.7 million.
Those two cities also happen to field successful GFL franchises. The rivalry between the Jupiter Jacks and the Neptune Scarlet Fliers is considered to be among the best and most-storied in the league. The Jacks have won three GFL titles, something that the residents of Jupiter Net Colony never hesitate to remind those from Neptune.
• • •
THE GROUND BUS ROLLED through the streets of Red Storm City. The entire team was onboard. No shouting, no jokes, no playing, and no “grab-assing,” as Coach Hokor would call it. A team full of hard-hearted sentients, every last mind on the challenge awaiting them in a few short hours when the Ionath Krakens went to war with the Jupiter Jacks.
The 8-and-2 Jupiter Jacks.
The defending champion Jupiter Jacks.
Even if there had been noise, Quentin wouldn’t have heard it. Tiny earphones filled his ears with the sound of one of the heaviest, meanest, most glory-inspiring songs he’d ever heard. A new track by Trench Warfare, so new that maybe ten people in the entire galaxy had heard it. Somalia had sent it to him, a rough mix of a song called “Heart of Steel.” A song of the ancients, apparently, first sung some seven centuries earlier. She had sought out a song from the early days of football, a way of showing her appreciation for the risks he had taken just to hear her music.
The lyrics called to him, perfectly capturing the moment to come. Always one more try, I’m not afraid to die, stand and fight. He’d met her for all of five minutes, but there was no question that Somalia Midori understood exactly who he was, and exactly why he put his life on the line with every snap of the ball. Even if he never saw her again, he knew he’d found a kindred spirit.
Quentin listened to the song over an over again, absently staring out at Red Storm City. Total déjà vu, although there was nothing strange about that sensation — Red Storm City was a damn-near exact duplicate of Coranadillana. Harrah sailed overhead, but not nearly as many. Here, most of the citizenry stayed on the ground.
Red Storm City had been built shortly after the technology exchange between the Union and the Harrah Tribal Accord. Just like for the game against the Cloud Killers, the Touchback had docked at a massive pier jutting out from the city’s edge. The Krakens had boarded a bus and driven through the city. If you took Coranadillana, mopped up the pink blood (both dried and wet), picked up all the trash, added thousands of sentients on the sidewalks waving silver, gold and copper flags as the bus drove through, then you’d have Red Storm City.
He should have been thrilled to see Jupiter for the first time, but the fact was that he really didn’t care. He’d marvelled at enough new worlds for one season. All he saw now was visions of the game he was about to play, the passes, the runs, the defense, the hits, the pain and the blood.
The war and its warriors.
Always one more try, I’m not afraid to die.
Somalia really knew her music.
The bus turned the corner. Just as it had on Coranadillana, the football stadium rose majestically before them. Almost an exact copy, save for one additional deck. Rolling Rock Arena seated some 35,000 sentients. Just like Cloud Killer Stadium, the open top would allow thousands of Union citizens of Harrah decent to watch the game from above.
The song ended. Quentin played it again. The bus approached the stadium. So many fans waving flags or holding up replicas of the Galaxy Bowl trophy. The Harrah that sailed overhead did so with attitude, insolently trailing silver, gold and copper streamers from their tails.
Fans of the Jupiter Jacks.
Fans of the enemy.
Quentin stared at them all, knowing the disappointment they would feel when he beat their heroes into the ground.
• • •
QUENTIN PIVOTED BACK on his right foot, turning to the left and spinning all the way around to pitch the ball to Ju Tweedy. Ju caught the ball in motion, moving right, parallel to the line of scrimmage. Rebecca Montagne was out in front of him, and Michael Kimberlin out in front of her. Kimberlin clearly had no problem going hard against his old team — he loved playing smash-mouth football and didn’t seem to care whose mouth he smashed.
The Jacks linebackers pursued while Xuchang, the corner back, crashed from the outside to try and turn the play back in. Orange and black collided with gold, silver, and copper. Ju made one move to duck the outside linebacker, then lowered his head as the inside linebacker and the safety crashed into him.
Four yard gain, which brought them up third and two.
The Krakens ran back to the huddle. Quentin saw doubt in the eyes of his teammates. He couldn’t blame them — the Krakens were down 14-7 against the defending galactic champs, and he’d already thrown one pick. There was a reason the Jupiter Jacks were 8-and-2, and that reason was their defensive secondary. Two All-Pro cornerbacks in Morelia and Xuchang, a hard-hitting free safety in Luxembourg, and the safety Matidi, the one who had the pick. Those four blanketed the Krakens receivers. Hawick couldn’t get open against Morelia, and when Xuchang couldn’t cover Milford she got help over the top from Matidi. Quentin had time to throw, but the excellent coverage made him wait too long for receivers to get open.
Ju was the last one back to the huddle.
“They’re keying on me big-time, Q,” he said. “I ain’t got no room to run out there.”
“I know, I know,” Quentin said. The Jacks defensive backs were so good they could handle most of the pass coverage and let seven players — the front defensive four and the three linebackers — focus on the run.
Hokor’s head popped up in Quentin’s helmet holo.
“Barnes! Dive left. Slam it up there, we need this first down.”
“Coach, we’ve run up the middle on the last three third-and-short situations. They’ll be waiting for it.”
“Run the plays I call, Barnes.”
Quentin rolled his eyes and tapped off the holo-display,
“Dive left on two, on two,” he said to the huddle. “When this play is over, you sprint back to the line. We’re going no-huddle, I’ll audible from center. Got it? Ready? Break!”
The Krakens moved to the line. Quentin grabbed Ju’s arm and leaned in near his helmet.
“I need a big fake out of you.”
“We’re not doing the run?”
“We are, you’re just not getting the ball,” Quentin said. “I have to soften up the defensive backs, and I’m doing it the old-fashioned way.”
“The Human sacrifice way?”
“Think of it as a Sklorno sacrifice.”
Ju smiled an evil smile. “That’s my boy, Q. Smash-mouth.”
Quentin walked up behind Bud-O-Shwek. Rebecca lined up at fullback, Ju behind her as the tail back. Quentin looked at the defense. As he’d suspected, the linebackers were leaning in, ready to take on the run.
Quentin tapped a quick left-right-left ba-da-bap on Bud-O-Shwek’s pebbly behind, then bent to take the snap.
“Red, fifty-two! Red, fifty-two! Hut-hut!”
Quentin pushed off his right foot, stepping back with the left. Rebecca rushed by, murder in her eyes. Ju was two steps behind her. Quentin put the ball in his stomach. As the big arms closed, Quentin pivoted forward in time with Ju. At the last second, Quentin pulled the ball out just as Ju smashed into the hole.
Quentin put the ball on his left hip, hiding it from the defense, and sprinted down the left side of the line without a single blocker to protect him. The Jacks right defensive end had bought the play fake, crashing in to get a piece of Ju. Quentin was by the defensive end before the guy knew what was happening.
The outside right linebacker figured it out faster, but he had also rushed in to stop Ju and was a step too late. Quentin cut up field, the Quyth Warrior linebacker trailing close behind.
Quentin was ten yards downfield before Luxembourg saw him. She sprinted in, the field lights reflecting off her copper helmet, her gold jersey with th
e silver sleeves and copper numbers. She looked like a fighter jet made from precious metals.
Quentin didn’t cut, didn’t spin, that wasn’t what he wanted. He was here to go old-school.
Just before contact, he snapped his head forward, bringing all his weight and momentum, turning himself into a weapon. Luxembourg did the same thing, the two players colliding like butting mountain rams. Quentin felt the jaw-shaking impact through his whole body — it slowed him down, but he kept moving forward.
The linebacker brought him down from behind.
Quentin hit the ground, then looked to the sidelines. Fifteen-yard gain. First down, Krakens.
• • •
“CHICK, THAT’S SOMETHING we haven’t seen much of in the past few weeks, Quentin Barnes using his size and speed like a running back.”
“Masara, Barnes just laid the lumber on Luxembourg.”
“She looks shaken up, Chick. She’s slow to get back to the huddle. I wonder if the Jacks will sub her out... wait a minute, what’s this... the Krakens are going no huddle, Chick!”
“They’ll go after Luxembourg, Masara. She looks like she was hit by a drunken Purist Nation cop with a free pass for cross-species police brutality.”
“Chick! This is not—”
“And the snap! Barnes drops back, he’s got time. Woman-to-woman coverage. Halawa is going deep, going right past Luxembourg, Barnes is going for it all... and it’s... it’s caught! Touchdown, Ionath! Quentin Barnes ties up the game on a 66-yard strike to Halawa.”
• • •
QUENTIN RAN OFF THE FIELD to cheering teammates and choruses of nice run! or nice hit! or great pass! He still didn’t know if he could throw deep against Morelia or Xuchang, who would guard the Krakens number-one and number-two receivers, respectively, but from the first snap he’d known that if Luxembourg slowed down even a little, she couldn’t hang with Halawa. So, Quentin had made Luxembourg slow down.
“Barnes!”
Quentin’s eyes flashed to his helmet holo-screen before he realized it was a living voice, not his helmet speakers. He looked down at Hokor, expecting the coach to be a puffy furball of anger. Hokor’s fur looked smooth.