Ishii Family Estates, Ita’kumi, Sundari Autonomous Region, Gyatso-kai
0740 hours Kekerturk Time (UTC+11), 3 August 2019.2
As Hakoda Ishii looked out from his homestead, down a long dirt road that had been carved into
the landscape over generations, and all
the man could do was think of what was coming up
the drive in a rather ominous black Chevrolet Tahoe. He had an inkling to what was coming, but as a man of pragmatics, he never wanted to jump to a conclusion without all of
the facts presented. He took a deep breath before exhaling,
the early autumn air of
the southern reaches of Gyatso-kai had already started to warm in
the early morning sun. His wife, Quỳnh Ngà, stood beside him, also watching
the approaching vehicle with apprehension.
”So, who all do you think is coming?” Quỳnh spoke, wrapping her arms around Ishii’s and leaning into him. He was not in his traditional Mandalorian armor, so perhaps he was a bit less imposing. Though, wearing
the heavy
bora’kute – a long traditional coat over his usual undersuit and boots – certainly didn’t make him seem any less of a threat. He shifted his weight as
the vehicle came to a stop at
the edge of
the drive, and he and Quỳnh Ngà began to walk towards it.
”I guess,” Ishii said as he rolled his neck slightly,
”We’ll find out here soon enough.”As Ishii and his wife came to
the bottom of
the stairs of
the udesii'veray, a large man emerged from
the driver’s side and closed
the door. Ishii could tell he was unarmed, or at
the very least not carrying a firearm, and was likely just a very skilled military driver.
The passenger, however, was carrying some sort of handgun as he came around
the back of
the vehicle and positioned himself by
the back door.
”Good morning, gentlemen,” Ishii was
the first to speak, a slight bow.
”Welcome to my family home.”
“Good morning, Sir,” spoke
the unarmed man.
”Allow me the honor to present to you, the Director of Avatarian Hockey, His Honourable Kad Skirata.” The man reached for
the door and opened it slowly, and soon followed a rather unhappy elder. In his 70s, he still stood with
the posture of a soldier, and by
the looks of things, age had not slowed him down.
”Oh enough with the nonsense,” Skirata gave
the unarmed man a playful tap across
the chest.
”Come here Hak’ika, my vod it has been too long!”Ishii stepped forward and gave Skirata a rather informal hug –
Did he just get introduced as the Director of Hockey? – before leaning away and taking a step back for
the more customary Mandalorian handshake. Gripping Skirata’s arm firmly, he could feel that
the old man certainly hadn’t grown more frail since he had last seen him.
”Oh, and Quỳnh, so good of you to have us here,” Skirata spoke, extending his arms to hug Ishii’s wife.
”I am grateful for you to have welcomed us to your home. I do have something for you,” Skirata turned around and motioned to
the armed man.
”Verd would you mind grabbing that box for me?” Skirata waved an arm,
”And the rest of you, get out of there.The rest?As Ishii looked to
the vehicle, two very familiar faces emerged from
the vehicle, and if he hadn’t known any better, it was as though they hadn’t aged a bit in all
the time since they last played together. Wearing a very similar
bora’kute, Pakku Ito was
the first to slide out of
the vehicle, extending his arms to give Ishii a rather warm embrace.
”Hakoda, my old friend. You never call.”
“You know where I work.” Ishii was quick to retort, looking over Ito’s shoulders in time to see another imposing figure emerge from
the Tahoe. Though, as he stepped forward, Ishii could tell by
the slight limp who it was.
”And you, Kuruk?
“Aye, it’s me,” Ikeda Kuruk groaned. A Northern Water Tribesman, he was likely a bit uncomfortable in
the warmer southern climate, and judging by
the light outerware of a tribal chief, he certainly was not in his element.
”Old buir dragged me from Arnook down here to talk things over with you. In the middle of nayiq season no less. My son is taking my grandson out this week for his first hunt.”
“Congratulations,” Ishii spoke.
”But more to the point, can I offer you all something to drink? Quỳnh brewed a rather potent tihaar from last season’s papuurgaat. Very smooth.”
“Oh, I would love a glass,” Skirata put his arm around Quỳnh as he walked with her towards
the stairs. In one hand, he held that package he had brought, which from what Ishii could see, were several different bottles of liquid, most likely
tihaar from his own homestead. A tradition amongst Mandalorians, to always bring a warming gift whenever you came over to a homestead, Ishii could not help but appreciate how even though he was born a Mandalorian in
the Southern Water Tribes to a waterbending healer and a strong Mandalorian soldier, he could connect both cultures into one life.
Ito came up from behind and patted Ishii on
the back.
”He has been far happier since this all began.”
“This?” Ishii asked, motioning Ito and Ikeda to
the stairs.
”Come now, Hakoda,” Ikeda chided as he climbed
the stairs.
”News travels fast in the Southern Tribes... and you mean to tell me you have heard nothing at Adirolf? Nothing in Sundari? ”Honestly, Kuruk,” Ishii said, reaching
the top stair and turning towards his favorite chair; a well-worn, hand-carved rocker that was big enough for both him and Quỳnh to sit together in. As he sat back,
the old wood began to creak beneath his weight before slowly beginning to rock. He held out a hand for Ikeda to sit across from him, to which
the Northerner took a seat. Ito took
the seat next to Ikeda, leaving just one more chair next to Ishii open.
”I haven’t really heard anything substantial...”
“Have you read The Republican today? It is front page news.” Ito muttered as Skirata and Quỳnh walked back onto
the udesii’veray holding a dark bottle in Skirata’s hand, with five glasses. Quỳnh took her seat next to Ishii. She reached out for one of
the glasses from Skirata, her steel blue nails shimmering in
the early morning light, and Skirata poured her
the first glass. She leaned back, handing
the glass to Ishii, who simply smiled.
”I cannot say I have, Pakku. I wasn’t aware we were even meeting today...”Skirata gave a bit of a laugh.
”Well, we can thank Quỳnh for that.”
“It slipped my mind,” Quỳnh feigned as she took another glass from Skirata.
The liquid was a dark, rich amber hue, and as she leaned back, Ishii could smell
the tihaar just as strongly as if he had drank it himself.
”We’ve been a bit busy here lately.”
“And I do so apologise,” Skirata bowed his head slightly,
”But this is a bit too important to just put off for another time. We are one a bit of a time crunch.”
“We?” Ishii asked, taking a slow slip of his
tihaar.
The liquid was ice cold, but as it coated his tongue, an insatiable fire built up inside of his mouth before turning to a crisp and cool breeze when he inhaled.
”Perhaps we should just jump to the point.”
“Oh of course, Hakoda,” Skirata uttered, before slamming back
the entire glass of
tihaar as if it were merely water.
”To be blunt...I want you as the next Head Coach for the Ice Bisons.”Ishii allowed
the words to hang in
the air for
the briefest of moments before leaning forward.
”Try that again, buir?” Ishii could not believe his own ears and needed to hear it again.
”As Director of Avatarian Hockey,” Skirata stated, reaching into his chest pocket,
”I am hereby offering you the position of Head Coach for the National Team.” He pulled out a small object from his pocket, but simply held it in his hand.
”The National Sports Council voted unanimously three months ago to restart the national team, Hakoda,” Ito spoke, placing an empty glass between his feet.
”I sit on the Council, and when it was first brought to chambers, I knew exactly who we wanted as our Head Coach.”
“Same here, Hakoda,” Ikeda said.
”We both have been talking to Kad’buir since that vote, and already have a decent pool of players for you to look into.”Ishii was silent, his hand stroking his beard as he looked to
the three men.
”Months? Why are you just now coming to me?”
“To be frank, ad’ika” Skirata said.
”We had to wait for approval of our contract for you from the Council before we could even offer it to you. They did the same thing to me back in 2011.2 when I was first selected; I was only appointed Head Coach about six months prior to the start of the tournament.”
“But six months is not three.” Ishii said, leaning forward,
”Do you honestly expect me to be able to build a team to be successful in three months?”
“Three months is more than enough time, Hakoda,” spoke Ito as he finished his glass, reaching for
the bottle to refill it.
”Last season in the AHL, I was able to take a team of randomly selected players into the All-Star game and come out winning three games against Zhong and the East, outscoring them twenty-to-nine.”
“But that is an All-Star game... nothing is on the line...”
“And nothing is on the line here, Hak’ika,” spoke Skirata as he leaned forward to meet Ishii.
”We are not going into this World Cup to win every game. We are not going into this World Cup to beat every opponent into submission.” He leaned back, placing down
the empty glass and sighing before turning to
the other two men.
”We are going to have fun. We are going to play hockey. Or have you forgotten about that?” Sighing, Ishii looked towards his wife. She shared
the same concerned look on her face, but knew not to say anything to betray her apprehension. Ishii had felt her tension through
the brief exchanges – brief was always Ishii’s favorite – and knew that her husband would make his decision, and Ishii knew his wife would support him no matter what.
”What’s the pay?” Ishii asked.
“Hefty if you accept. Bonuses for winning and advancing,” Skirata spoke, motioning to one of
the men behind him by
the vehicle.
The unarmed one came up, holding a briefcase in his hand. As he handed it to Skirata, he placed it on his lap and opened it. With two satisfying clicks,
the top swung up and Skirata reached inside. Pulling out a stack of papers, he handed them over to Ishii.
” ‘Hefty’ is not a number, sir.”
“32,000 yuan to start.”
“For a single year?” Ishii asked.
The number was a bit higher than he was expecting.
”It’s a four-cup contract. Bonus structures in place for each win, each advancement, even for coaching friendly matches in between Cups.”
“And the players?”Ito was first to speak.
”As stated earlier, we already have a decent pool of men – probably in the range of forty – for you to go over with your staff and pick. Ideally, you would have your choices down in two weeks, with the first camp invites sent out for September.”
“And staff?” Ishii looked up from
the contract he had been reading.
”Unfortunately, you have no say here.” Skirata spoke up.
”At least not for this World Cup. Should you not like any of them... We can discuss that after the cup.”
“Who are the assistants? Anyone I know?” Ishii looked back down to
the contract, studying
the print again.
“You know them all,”[/b] Skirata laughed. He hitched a finger towards Ito.
”He’s your assistant coach,” and then to Ikeda,
”and he’s your Forwards.”Seriously?”Well, I already hate them,” Ishii laughed as he looked to
the two men.
"Who else is on staff?”Ito, now clear as to why he was always
the one to speak if Skirata remained silent, looked to Ishii.
”We have old Ko on Defence, and The Wall on Goalies.”
“Ko? As in Piandao?”
“You bet. He had a great season at KSU, and as such is eager to shed some shining bright enlightenment on our young defenders.”
“And The Wall still stands?” The Wall – better known as Shu Huanguo – had been arguably
the best goaltender in all of Avatarian History. He had been on
the National Team since its formation in 2011.2, and had even been signed onto play in
the CHL of Cotedelapoms on
the Montréal Royals. He had a storied career, not to mention even as a Coach he had been responsible for
the Ice Bisons’ netminders since he retired from Multi-Verse play after World Cup XX. Once
the National Team had went under, Shu found himself coaching goalies both in
the AHL as well as at
the collegiate level. Yet, even with such success in
the AHL and collegiate levels, when Skirata had snapped his fingers to form up
the coaching staff, Shu was quick to answer.
And at fifty-six years of age, Ishii had no doubt he could still out play many of these younger guys.”Well, I guess the only real questions left are...” Ishii trailed off as he held out a hand for a pen, one Skirata was quick to give.
”When do we start? And let me see those players.”Skirata stood up from
the chair, and extended a single arm towards Ishii. He was quick to rise, and with his arm extended, gripped Skirata’s before giving him a hearty Mandalorian handshake. As their arms bounded, Skirata could not help but smile as he looked to Ishii.
”We start today.”