It was going to be a happy day.
Zar had been chosen as player for the class' gravball team. The exercise finally paid off! Now he was going to prove his worth in the match.
Zar was vividly imagining all the impossible throws, scores and heroic blocks he was going to do on his first official match as member of the 'Crickets' (Wasn't that some kind of insect?) and soon they would be the best team of the school!
Today the kids had the turf at the gravball dome and when he entered the stadium his teammates had already gathered around coach Jel'Ran issuing claims about their favourite positions.
Jel'Ran, the "Turian" - nobody knew where he got this nickname from - stood patiently amidst his charges completing the roster he was drafting.
When he finished, he cleared his throat and read out the starting team composition. All kids went silent at once with the occasional expressions of triumph or dismay.
Gravball matches had a large enough roster and it was very likely that everyone of them got their chance to play in the match.
Zar had been assigned a defensive position, as he already had suspected. He had bred the whole week-end about plans and moves to dominate the match. He even used those action figures that he normally never touched to simulate game moves.
In his opinion, the defensive position was a good opportunity to receive the ball, or "Hog", as it was called in Gravball-speak. The enemy hog-bearer would be funnelled conveniently into his direction and he just had to intercept them. They would never expect him to have exercised in quickness and agility - they were in for a big surprise.
Once he got the hog - or hog-bearer altogether - he would charge straight though their lines in a dashing counter-attack. He preferred the hog-bearer-variant - it would save precious moments and even injuries he would risk when trying to pry the hog from the other guy's hands.
If he got through to the enemy zone it wouldn't count as a goal score but they would get some points, embarass the enemy team and win the initiative.
It was a perfect strategy.
Jel'Ran told the kids to warm up while he went checking the tech stuff about keeping the essential zero-gravity bubble in place. No big deal, since it was just about going sure that artificial gravity was shut down for the dome section.
While the kids and their coach unwittingly prepared with for their match a little storm was forming unnoticed:
By this time the "Steelers" and "Oilers", hardy men from the engine room and flightdeck were gathering around the groundskeepers office and had just figured out that their favourite after-work activity had been removed from the schedule without notice.
In favour of some silly kids.
Under normal circumstances, the flightdeck crew called the engine room "dungeon rats" while they received the title of "waiters" by the engineers. They came here to settle long-standing dispute and bragging and to determine who was the best "once and for all" (a period of about half a galactic year in Quarian terms).
Now that they had been kicked like some ballast from the dome's schedule they quickly agreed unanimously how to handle this. And they were people with a very practical approach to problems. While one of them fixed the groundskeeper to his chair in a quick, efficient and practical way, the other guys flushed the dome and began to drag out the "brats" by coarse, crude and practical measures.
Naturally, Zar, alone by his presence, was not a primary target for the Steelers' and Oilers' hands as his teammates were already gathering around him with the smaller and youngest ones clutching at him fearfully. For the time being the engineers picked the stragglers, hauled them off to the outside and saw them off with a pat on the back and a crude joke.
Zar was pacing nervously the inner circle his teammates had formed around him.
"What shall we do, Zar?" asked Sil'or, the boy who usually led the pack.
"Why do you ask me? Won't you come up with something?"
"Well you're the biggest and strongest we have - I'd say we run..."
'Yes, run, I can tell daddy around the corner...'
'Mhmya! Let's go!'
"Mmpf, we
stay! Don't be stupid - this is
our turf!"
'But dey got dem heavy toolzes an' go beatin' us an' crack my helmet', cried little Bu'yin, the youngest of class and burst out into tears.
"Nah, they won't dare. The coach and our parents wouldn't allow."
'But dey're not HERE! Ai am frightend - dey gonna hurt us with deyr mean toolz!'
"Let me do the talking, then and you watch my back while I do, Bu'yin!"
With great relief, Bu'yin scurried behind Zar and began intently watching his back.
The engineers now began to approach the pod of kids that had gathered around Zar and with every step they neared, the circle around Zar went smaller and smaller.
"Oi, lads! Time to go home and leave this place to the real men! Off you go now or we'll have to carry you out like the others!"
"We're
NOT going! This is
OUR place!
YOU leave!"
"Wha..What? What is this
dirty lizard rambling about? Know your place
Snake-Boy and get lost now, before I teach yer a lesson!"
Anger rose in Zar and dried his mouth and throat, he'd never been insulted like this. Zar twitched and was about to let go the control and charge at that Brute but he felt a sudden punch against his chest and the hissing voice of Sil'or in his ear:
"Leave it Zar! We need to stick together or they have easy game with us!"
"Rrrrrr!"
Another elbow-check into his ribs and a lot of hands now clutched Zar where they could get hold of him.
"Don't get yourself provoked! We NEED to stick TOGETHER!" hissed Sil'or.
"Hrright, right - We stick together. Brace yourselves, noone let go!"
The engineers had now arrived the ball of kids and began to tear at them which quickly resulted in a cacophony of maddening screams.
In the bowels of the dome coach Jel'Ran suddenly listened up, the muffled sounds from above were somewhat alarming, more clamorous and lacking in laughter. He slammed shut the hatchway and proceeded up to check what was going on.
"It's not even been five minutes and the heck I know wha...
WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?" bellowed his voice through the dome.
"Heavens, it's the Turia-aaarghh!"
The coach had grabbed the nearest engineer coercing him to display an exemplary figure of Quarian flexibility. Sort of painful flexibility, too.
"
LEGGO my kids or I'll break yer boneses one by one!" Jel'Ran underlined his command with the nasty sound of knuckles bending under stress and muffled sounds of pain from the engineer in his hands.
The men quickly backed away from the kids knowing they were in trouble if they kept angering "The Turian" whom they knew as a highly decorated and grizzled veteran from their common tours of duty.
"
OFF YOU GO NOW, GUYS -
We will discuss this later!" The engineers began an uneasy retreat.
Jel'Ran turned to the boys and looked at the huddle that was half trembling - half trying to look determined but still firmly interlocking arms, hands and limbs to a solid mass.
"So...", began Jel'Ran and Sil'or burst out:
"So we thought we'd better stick together."
'Dem being mean to us and witheyr toolzes and dat...'
'Mya, an' their running after us and surrounding us...'
'And Zar told him this is our place!"
'Ye, an', an' I shouda watch his back, hm? Nozzing wrong wizdat, yes?'
"Now, now, lads. Nothing wrong with that. Let's call it a day now - I need to see after some things right now..."
"But the match!"
"Match? No, lads, you've learned already one of the most important lessons today: To stick together as a team. That's a big lesson and we'll see if you can remember it next week - think about it!"
My, in minutes these little lads indeed had learned a lesson some teams would never learn. Jel'Ran took a quick glance at Sil'or and Zar - these boys could probably be a good start for a glorious season.
"Come on lads, wrap this up! There, there Bu'yin, no need to cry anymore, hm? You're NOT frightened? Just glad to see me? Charmer!"
Modifié par dr_random, 25 octobre 2012 - 04:15 .
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