World Cup 62 - The RP thread

[Wight]

.

[Bears Armed]

“Close thing, that match: Verrry close thing...”

“So did you hrreally expect anything easier? After all, the Babbagers were already tough enough opponents even before they hired a Bear as their manager.”

“Ayyuh, for true! Still, our girls did win... just. And not quite with an actually last-moment goal this time around, neither: Syrrae o Wirrenne making that run in almost from the halfway-line with seven moments still to go, weaving in and out between the Babbagee defenders like that, to shoot from the edge of the penalty box: Marrvelous!”

“Prety good, ayyuh.
“Pretty ironic, too, considering that the other side’s manager is actually a distant cousin of hers...”

“Ayyuh.”

“Nice to have the Golden Honeycomb back in the Belles’ hands, too. Heyyah, did you hear Urra SunBlesséd being interviewed on the wireless after the game? She said that they’re going to parade it onto the pitch before performing the harrdiharr, as an extra hrreminder to our girls of hwhat they’re capable of.”

“Ayyuh.
“Ur’rmm, you want irony? How about the fact that the only other time the Belles have hrrreached the final before now, back in World Cup #54, it was The Holy Empire — the same nation whose current team they’re facing in this final — hwhom they’d beaten in the semi-final to get there? And not only that, but the two teams that they’d beaten in the previous two knockout rounds were The Archregimancy and then Valanora, hwhich is the same two teams that the Imperials had to beat to reach the semi-finals this time around?”

“Whau! I’d missed that point until now. Well, I suppose that was fourEights’ years ago...
“But still, ayyuh, that is pretty ironic. Hwhat a strange coincidence...”

“Hr’rmm, or maybeso an example of Margaret’s sense of humour?”

“Hr’rmm, could be that I suppose, maybeso.”

“So anyhow, do you hrreckon that our girls will win the Cup?”

“Hr’rmm, I’d say that the odds are still slightly against them, based on both sides’ past forms, but... It’ll be close, for true. Maybeso even going into extra time again, hwhichever side finally ends up as the winners.”

“Extra time again? That wouldn’t hrreally surprise me, neither. Hope that our girls can win without needing to go to penalties, though, because that situation has been a weak point for the Belles before now.”

“But that was with different line-ups, and a little bird tells me that this squad have practiced penalties quite a lot: Urra hrremembers those past problems too herself, too, of course...”

“I suppose she would. Well, maybeso that extra training will pay off if the need actually arises.”

“From your mouth to the Good Spirits’ ears.”



_______________________________________________________________________________________


(Meanwhile, in Marroq...)


Coalition headquarters, in part of the Old Citadel.
The basements.
A cell-block.
Late afternoon.

Hrrick Blamed looked around. No change. Still stone walls on three sides of him, linking a stone floor and a stone ceiling, with thick bars of iron -- some of them forming a [securely locked] door -- filling in the fourth wall of the cell in which he's imprisoned. The only furniture a low stone shelf with a straw-filled palliase and a thin blanket on top of it as the inmate's bed on the outer edge of which he is currently sitting, a jug of water (mostly empty by now), a cheap earthenware mug, and a tin tray bearing two dishes (both completely empty), and a chamber-pot (unfortunately not empty). The opposite wall of the corridor outside is also composed of stone blocks, with a narrow shaft arising from the angle where it meets the ceiling that admits small amounts of light and fresh air from above. A wire secured to that ceiling by metal staples, linking and powering a few electric lightbulbs. The guard-post is out of his range of vision, nearer to the block's only door, but apparently still manned because although all of the other cells were [surpisingly] empty when Hrrick himself was brought down here and he hadn't heard any other prisoners being brought in since then he can definitely hear somebody snoring not far away...
Bored, he rolls up his crumpled jacket to use as a pillow, swings around to lie on the bed -- such as it it is -- and tries to go to sleep.


Just a few moments later, that search for slumber is interrupted.
There is a creaking noise as the door into this cell-block is opened, and Hrrick hears a set of noises that he gueses are the "guard" trying to make it look as though he himself ha'd been alert all along rather than dozing. Several more people enter the corridor, and then Hrrick hears a familiar voice: It is Lieutenant Volkswagen...

(Volkswagen) "Well, here we are Herr Pilsner, your new home-from-home. Welcome to the 'Hotel Citadel'. Supper is whenever you feel like it: That’s the bread and water on the tray over on that shelf. There’s no ‘Lights out’, breakfast is whenever we feel like it… and checking-out? Welll…”
"The Commandant has had to travel up the coast to Clementiers on official business, and won't be back for quite a few days... and before he returns, you will explain the nature of your business with the late Captain Dereks."

(Viktor) "As I already explained, I had never met the captain before this but a mutual acqauaintance had suggested that he might maybeso be willing to ship some civilian refugees a lift from this port to to British Minorca aboard the 'Valetttan Falcon' and i had arranged a meeting with him to discuss thsi possibility, that's all there was to it."

(Volkswagen) "And as I already explained, Herr Pilsner, I do not find your explanation entirely convincing."
"Anyway, whether or not you decide to talk further with me, I'm sure that you will be able to hold an interesting conversation with our other guest: You two having so much in common, after all..."
"Bring him!"

Viktor is walked along the corridor past Hrrick's cell by a group of four gaolers, who are holding ropes attached to different points on a collar around his neck. Two policemen carrying their rilfes in the 'ready' position follow next, and then Volkswagen. There is the sound of the next cell-door along being unlocked and of a person being shoved through it (but, although they stagger momentarily, managing to retain their footing instead of falling to the floor), and then -- quickly -- of that door being locked once more. The four gaolers and two poilcemen walk back past Hrrick's cell, towards the block's entrance, and Volkswagen follows them but pauses briefly at a point where he's visible to both cells' occupants.

"I shall see you again in the morning, Herr Pilsner and Herr Blamed: Auf wiedersehen!"

He turns to depart. Hrrick growls softly in his throat.

(Volkswagen) "Not enjoying our hospitality, Herr Blamed? What a pity..."

The lieutenant leaves, and starts to whistle the 'Drinking Song' from 'The Student Prince' before he's exited from that corridor..
There is the creaking sound of the block's door being closed.

Some time later, after the gaoler's snores have resumed, Hrrick starts a conversation... in the Ursine language, which he has fair reason to hope none of their captors can understand.

"So, they've busted you too: Trumped-up charges in your case as well, I take it?"

(Viktor) "In my case, yes. What about yours? You hrreally were found standing over Dereks's freshly-killed body, I gather, after all..."

(Hrrick) "Coincidence. never met him before, and certainly didn't hram him meself. I'd received a message from a certain 'Mr R' -- you know who I mean?"

(Viktor) "I think that I do, ayyuh."

(Hrrick) "Hrright. Well, I owed him a favour and he'd sent a messenger asking me to meet with Dereks: Apparently the captain had lucked into possession of some antique statuette that 'Mr R' wanted, and I was supposed to try negotiating a deal for it.
"But he was already dead hwhen I got there, although from the smells the murder couldn't have happened many moments before that."

(Viktor) "Hr'rmm"

(Hrrick) "And if I had killed him, then how did I get rid of the gun?"

(Viktor) "Sent away with that messenger, maybeso?"

(Hrrick) "Ur'rmm..."

(To be continued... somewhere, somewhen...)

[Alasdair I Frosticus]

OOC - I'll be adapting several famous (and more obscure) stories and epics from RL - some historical, some modern - to tell the story of the Holy Empire in WC62 as if taken from excerpts of an academic paper on the subject. First person to send me a TG correctly identifying the original source each match day can have their country as the source of the next inscription/epic used; you may specify some RP details about the site/period/etc relating to the story - however, since the next match is the final, I'll reserve the right to choose the actual RL text.

OOC 2 - And proof that these threads are read by non-World Cup participants.... Correctly identified as based on Boney M's Rasputin (yes, I went low-brow) by The Inevitable Syndicate, who's not even in the tournament!

ORDINARY REALITY HISTORY
A Journal of the Imperial Institute of Mundy Studies

Dreamed Realm Figures in Mundy Myth
A Case Study of Juan Tzimisces and World Cup 62

Zoe Argyro
Department of Mundy Studies
The Imperial University

World Cup Semifinal - Vilita

The World Cup semifinal against Vilita had perhaps threatened to be anti-climactic after the epic tussle against Valanora, but in fact it turned out to be the sternest test the squad had yet faced, with the Jungle Cats becoming the first team over the course of either qualification or the finals to not lose within the 90 minutes. The Empire twice took the lead via goals from Philanthropenuso and Vatatzes, and twice the Vilitans came back through goals by Kontalroma and Adjei, only for Jungle Cats hearts to be broken almost at the death by an 116th minute header from Theodore Mangaphaso as the Empire threw almost everyone forward for a Stilbes corner.

This match offers one of the more curious cases of mythic bleed over the course of the Cup, as it relates to a report made by an SBIS undercover agent who was stationed at Hrrick's Café Ursien in the city of Marroq in Barbary Salé; the Café Ursien had itself been the subject of intense interest during World Cup 62. It is perhaps best to simply repeat the agent's report in full here.

Report to SBIS In-Person Observation Bureau

By Agent Constantine Gabraso

As requested, I have been carefully observing the cultural scene in the city of Marroq following the decision by ISPI to grant a trans-dimensional pass to certain mundies associated with Hrrick's Cafe Ursien in this city. My cover as Maitre d' of said establishment has, as anticipated, given me the perfect opportunity to act as an in-person observer.

My report on the passes can be found under separate cover, but you also asked me to report on any cases of mythic bleed that might result via the interaction of Marroq with Dreamed Realm material culture. I have had the opportunity to hear several sea shanties of the sailors of Barbary Salé, and I thought you might be particularly interested in 'The Ballad of John Simkey', which purports to relate to a centuries-old episode involving a famous pirate captain of Barbary Salé and his battle against some ships from what are now the Tropics of Vilita. Given that the World Cup 62 semi-finals have just taken place here in Barbary Salé time, I thought this might prove to be particularly worthy of note.

The Ballad of John Simkey

Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!
Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!

There lived a certain man in Salé long ago
He was big and strong, and his eyes were flaming gold
Most people looked at him with terror and with fear
But to Marroq men he was held in honour dear
He would sail his ships like a man fearless,
Full of ecstasy and fire
But he also was the kind of leader
Women would desire

John, John, John Simkey
Captain of the Salé fleet
There was a man that really was gone
John, John, John Simkey
Lover of the Pirate Queen
We're still so proud of how he carried on

He led the Salé fleet out for raiding Vilita
And the loot they found, it was really wunderbar
When it came to piracy, well he was the man to please
And he was real great when he had a girl to squeeze
To his men he was no wheeler dealer
For they knew the things he'd done
They believed he was a mighty leader
With whom they'd have some fun

John, John, John Simkey
Captain of the Salé fleet
There was a man that really was gone
John, John, John Simkey
Lover of the Pirate Queen
We're still so proud of how he carried on

(traditionally spoken by the shanty leader)
But when his drinking and looting and his hunger for booty became known to more and more people, the demands in Vilita to do something about this outrageous pirate became louder and louder.

Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!
Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!

"This man's just got to go!" declared his enemies
But their ladies begged "Don't you try to do it, please"
No doubt our John Simkey he had lots of hidden charms
Though he was a brute they just fell into his arms
Then one night some Vilitan ship captains
Challenged him to seek their fame
"Come to battle us" they kept demanding -
And he really came

John, John, John Simkey
Sailed out on the tropic seas
Outsank the Vilitans three ships to two
John, John, John Simkey
Fired his cannons - all eighteen
Took extra time, but still he won through

John, John, John Simkey
Captain of the Salé fleet
They didn't quit, they wanted his head
John, John, John Simkey
Lover of the Pirate Queen
And so he fought them till they were dead

(traditionally spoken by the shanty leader)
Oh, those men of Salé...

'John Simkey' is a clear Tzimisces analogue, and the clear references to the Empire's 3-2 extra time victory over Vilita in the penultimate chorus show this to be a case of mythic bleed, as indeed noted by the SBIS agent himself.

Given the connection to the Café Ursien, it was perhaps of interest that the Holy Empire's opponents in the World Cup 62 final would be none other than the ursines of Bears Armed, in a repeat of the World Cup 54 final - a tournament during which the Empire had also had to defeat the Archregimancy and Valanora before facing the ursines in the final. Those mundies who would dismiss this as 'coincidence' can be forgiven for their lack of familiarity with the impact of trans-dimensional probability on Ordinary Reality (see G. Gennadiuso "Trans-Dimensional Probability and Ordinary Reality").

[Carpathia and Ruthenia]

RP CUTOFF FOR THE THIRD PLACE PLAYOFF

[Astograth]

RP CUTOFF FOR THE WORLD CUP FINAL

The score can be found here

[Alasdair I Frosticus]

OOC - No need for anyone else to guess this one as A) there are no further RPs this cup and B) it's very easy

ORDINARY REALITY HISTORY
A Journal of the Imperial Institute of Mundy Studies

Dreamed Realm Figures in Mundy Myth
A Case Study of Juan Tzimisces and World Cup 62

Zoe Argyro
Department of Mundy Studies
The Imperial University

World Cup Final - Bears Armed

In the end, it's no surprise that World Cup 62 has been the subject of so much mythic bleed in Ordinary Reality. It had been an extraordinary campaign for the Empire; they hadn't dropped a point in either qualification or the finals - with only Vilita taking them past 90 minutes in the knock-out stages - and then swept imperiously past Bears Armed in the final. In truth, the ursines never knew what had hit them; the Empire were 3-0 up after 20 minutes, scored a fourth a mere 15 seconds into the second half, and swept to a straightforward 4-1 victory. It wasn't that the Bears Armed squad were bad - far from it - and their 88th minute consolation at least restored some measure of respectability to the scoreline; but while their strength and skill remained real assets, rarely had their lack of speed been so ruthlessly exposed at the upper echelons of the game.

This was also perhaps the tournament where Tzimisces was finally acknowledged across Ordinary Reality as the true sporting legend that he'd always been held to be in the Dreamed Realm. Prior to World Cup 60, there had been some mundy scepticism about whether someone who had only managed to win one World Cup in so many attempts could truly be considered one of the all-time greats - but with a third World Cup, and second in three attempts, under his belt there were no longer any real arguments. As one wag in New Montreal States observed at the time, "imagine what he might have achieved if he'd been allowed to manage a proper team all of the time instead of blancmanges, porn stars, faeries, philosophers, and other assorted weirdness."

It's perhaps appropriate, then, that the final example of mythic bleed presented in this paper serves to emphasise the true extent of World Cup 62 mythic bleed in Ordinary Reality. All of the previous examples have come from nations with World Cup histories, almost all of them nations that were themselves involved in World Cup 62. The final example, however, comes from the Inevitable Syndicate; it's true that as an Atlantian Oceania nation that encompassed the Crystalkere Coast, they can hardly have been unaware of the tournament, but as of the 62nd edition of the tournament they had had no involvement with the World Cup. Most of the examples of mythic bleed described in this paper have also involved – using mundy conceptions of linear time – the distant past or distant future. However, the final example comes from the near-contemporary present.

Some two months prior to World Cup qualification, the popular Inevitable Syndicate science fiction film series Journal of the Whylls released its fourth edition: Episode IV – Rise of the Rebellion. This tells the story of the the benevolent Galactic Empire's struggle against the evil rebel Ursine Alliance. The latter is a strange alliance of shaggy bipedal humanoids, wolf-like vulpine humanoids, invisible rabbits, and even a few stray humans, manipulated by a mysterious figure known only as 'the Oneiromancer' into attempting to undermine the millennial peace and prosperity brought about by the mighty Basileus and his trusted Golden Lord Darth Tzimisces.

Some script excerpts follow.

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far, away...

It is a period of interstellar war. Rebel spaceships,
striking from a hidden base, have won their first
victory against the the benevolent Galactic Empire.

During the battle, Rebel spies managed to steal
secret plans to the Empire's ultimate weapon, the
Victory Star, an armored space station with enough
power to destroy an entire planetary rebel base.

Pursued by the Empire's charismatic agents, the duplicitous
Princess Urma races home aboard her starship, custodian of
the stolen plans that might lead the rebels to victory and
deny freedom to the galaxy...


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

INT. VICTORY STAR - CONFERENCE ROOM
Eight Imperial senators and generals sit around a black
conference table. Imperial battle troopers stand guard around
the room. Commander Eggat, a young, intelligent-looking general,
is speaking.

EGGAT
Until this battle station is fully
operational we are vulnerable. The
Rebel Alliance is too well equipped.
They're more dangerous than you
realize.

The optimistic Admiral Ittom twists nervously in his chair.

ITTOM
Dangerous to your starfleet,
Commander, not to this battle station!

EGGAT
The Rebellion will continue to gain
support in the Imperial Senate as
long as....

Suddenly all heads turn as Commander Eggat's speech is cut
short and the Grand Moff Bradini, governor of the Imperial
outland regions, enters. He is followed by his powerful ally,
The Golden Lord, Darth Tzimisces. All of the generals stand and
bow before the thin, athletic governor as he takes his
place at the head of the table. The Golden Lord stands behind
him.

GRAND MOFF BRADINI
The Imperial Senate will no longer
be of any concern to us. I've just
received word that the Basileus has
called for new elections in order to
stabilise and strengthen democracy.
The last remnants of the corrupt old order
in thrall to the Oneiromancer will be
swept away!

EGGAT
That's impossible! How will the
Basileus maintain control without the
Old bureaucrats?

GRAND MOFF BRADINI
The regional governors now have direct
control over territories. Hope will
keep the local systems in line. Hope
that this battle station can defeat
the perfidious rebels who have wrought
so much death and destruction.

EGGAT
And what of the Rebellion? If the
Rebels have obtained a complete
technical readout of this station,
it is possible, however unlikely,
that they might find a weakness and
exploit it.

TZIMISCES
The plans you refer to will soon be
back in our hands.

ITTOM
Any attack made by the Rebels against
this station would be a useless
gesture, no matter what technical
data they've obtained. This station
is now the ultimate power in the
universe. I suggest we use it!

TZIMISCES
Don't be too proud of this
technological wonder you've
constructed. The ability to destroy
the rebellion is insignificant next to
the Power of Dreams!

ITTOM
Don't try to frighten us with your
sorcerer's ways, Lord Tzimisces. Your
sad devotion to that ancient religion
has not helped you conjure up the
stolen data tapes, or given you
clairvoyance enough to find the
Rebel's hidden fort, or helped your
trivial sporting teams win more than
two Galactic Cups, while Grand Moff
Bradini's teams have won five!

Suddenly Ittom chokes and starts to turn blue under Tzimisces's
spell.

TZIMISCES
I find your lack of faith disturbing.

GRAND MOFF BRADINI
Enough of this! Tzimisces, release him!

TZIMISCES
As you wish.

GRAND MOFF BRADINI
This bickering is pointless. Lord
Tzimisces will provide us with the
location of the Rebel fortress by
the time this station is operational.
We will then crush the evil Rebellion
with one swift stroke.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


EXT. SURFACE OF THE VICTORY STAR – URRA NORTHWALKER'S SHIP
Urra's ship streaks through the trench of the Victory Star.

INT. REBEL OUTPOST - WAR ROOM
The perfidious Princess Urma returns her generalless' worried and doubtful
glances with grim determination.

INT. URRA'S X-WING - COCKPIT
Urra concentrates on her targeting device.

EXT. SURFACE OF THE VICTORY STAR
Three DREAM fighters charge away down the trench toward Urra.

INT. DARTH TZIMISCES' COCKPIT
Tzimisces' finger's curls around the control stick.

INT. URRA'S X-WING - COCKPIT
Urra adjusts the lens of her targeting device.

EXT. SURFACE OF THE VICTORY STAR
Urra's ship charges down the trench.

INT. URRA'S X-WING - COCKPIT
Urra lines up the yellow cross-hair lines of the targeting
device's screen. She looks into the targeting device, then
starts at a voice she hears.

THE ONEIROMANCER'S VOICE
Use the Power of Dreams, Urra.

EXT. SURFACE OF THE VICTORY STAR
The Victory Star trench zooms by.

INT. URRA'S X-WING - COCKPIT
Urra looks up, then starts to look back into the targeting
device. She has second thoughts.

THE ONEIROMANCER'S VOICE
Let go, Urra.

A grim determination sweeps across Urra's face as she closes
her eyes and starts to mumble The Oneiromancer's training to herself.

EXT. SURFACE OF THE VICTORY STAR
Urra's fighter streaks through the trench.

INT. DARTH TZIMISCES' COCKPIT
TZIMISCES
The Power of Dreams is strong with this one -
I feel the power of the Dark Side within her.

EXT. SURFACE OF THE VICTORY STAR
Tzimisces follows Urra's X-wing down the trench.

INT. URRA'S X-WING - COCKPIT
Urra looks to the targeting device, then away as she hears
The Oneiromancer's voice.

THE ONEIROMANCER'S VOICE
Urra, trust me.

Urra's hand reaches for the control panel and presses the
button. The targeting device moves away.

INT. REBEL OUTPOST - WAR ROOM
Princess Urma and the others stand watching the projected screen.

BASE VOICE
(over speaker)
Her computer's off. Urra, you switched
off your targeting computer. What's
wrong?

URRA
(over speaker)
Nothing. I'm all right.

EXT. SURFACE OF THE VICTORY STAR
Urra's ship streaks ever close to the exhaust port.

INT. URRA'S X-WING - COCKPIT
Urra looks at the Victory Star surface streaking by.

EXT. SURFACE OF THE VICTORY STAR
The four DREAM fighters, manned by Tzimisces and his three wingmen,
follow Urra's X-wing down the trench. They outnumber Urra 4-1: victory is assured.

INT. DARTH TZIMISCES' COCKPIT
Tzimisces maneuvers his controls as he looks at his doomed target.
He presses the fire buttons on her control sticks. Laserfire
shoots toward Urra's X-wing fighter.

EXT. URRA'S X-WING FIGHTER
A large burst of Tzimisces' laserfire engulfs Urra's robot. The arms
go limp on the hateful little thing as it makes a high-pitched
sound.

INT. URRA'S X-WING FIGHTER - COCKPIT
Urra looks frantically back over her shoulder at the robot.

EXT. URRA'S X-WING FIGHTER
Smoke billows out around the irritating little piece of technology and sparks begin to
fly.

URRA
I've lost that idiot robot!

The robot's beeping sounds die out.

INT. REBEL OUTPOST - WAR ROOM
Princess Urma and the others stare intently at the projected screen, perhaps at last suspecting that their terrible campaign of fear and bloodshed is doomed to failure against the mighty power of the benevolent Galactic Empire. Lights representing the Victory Star and targets glow brightly.

REBEL INTERCOM VOICE
The Victory Star has cleared the planet.
The Victory Star has cleared the planet.

INT. VICTORY STAR - CONTROL ROOM
Grand Moff Bradini glares at the projected target screen.

VICTORY STAR INTERCOM VOICE
Rebel base, in range.

GRAND MOFF BRADINI
You may fire when ready.

VICTORY STAR INTERCOM VOICE
Commence primary ignition.

An officer reaches up and pushes buttons on the control panel,
as green lighted buttons turn to red.

EXT. SURFACE OF THE VICTORY STAR
The four DREAM fighters zoom down the Victory Star trench in
pursuit of Urra, never breaking formation.

INT. URRA'S COCKPIT
Urra looks anxiously at the Victory Star exhaust port

URRA
They've blocked the exhaust port!

Darth Tzimisces and Grand Moff Bradini were not so foolish as to
leave a single weak point open to attack by the evil
rebels; that would have been truly idiotic, and the Empire
is led by two mighty strategists with an unbroken string
of victories behind them during this campaign.

Urra slams her fists against her control column in despair.
The Oneiromancer has lied to her, as he lies to everyone.
She realises at last that her terrible cause is doomed,
and that she has been used as a pawn by others more
powerful than her.

INT. DARTH TZIMISCES' COCKPIT
Tzimisces adjusts his control sticks, checking his projected
targeting screen.

EXT. SURFACE OF THE VICTORY STAR
Urra's ship barrels down the trench.

INT. DARTH TZIMISCES' COCKPIT
Tzimisces's targeting computer swings around into position. Tzimisces
takes careful aim on Urra's X-wing fighter.

TZIMISCES
I have you now.

He pushes the fire buttons.

EXT. SURFACE OF THE VICTORY STAR
The four DREAM fighters move in on Urra's X-wing, which explodes as all four fighters open fire on the hapless and outmatched single rebel ship. The Victory Star then opens fire on the rebel base, incinerating the entire rebel high command, including Princess Urma. No rebels escape. The Empire is victorious!!!

INT. VICTORY STAR - CONTROL ROOM
Grand Moff Bradini and his staff embrace and celebrate

GRAND MOFF BRADINI
Thank you, Darth Tzimisces! You have saved the Empire – yet again!
Tell you what - as a favour I'll help you win the next Galactic Cup now....

Grand Moff Bradini smiles
Darth Tzimisces' appreciative laughter can be heard over the intercom.