Skin Ball - The Rookie - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Scouting Report

High Protector Desmond's stoic face betrayed no emotion as he stood stiffly in the loose-fitting olive drab garb of the Protectorate. "Mistress Irvin left orders. The Staff meeting is not to be interrupted. No one else is allowed to enter."

Barry gave his best smile to the Protector. "My entrance would cause minimal interruption. You and I both know, as a prominent member of the staff myself, that I should be in there."

The guard's face did not change. The man was good, no doubt about that. His reputation as one of the most skilled, dedicated, and dangerous Protectors was not just deserved, but maybe even understated. Barry had no doubts he'd achieved his station through sheer competency and devotion. "The Mistress made it clear she did not want to be disturbed," the Protector said. He enunciated each word carefully and slowly, leveling an even stare at Barry as he did so.

Barry himself was not totally incapable if it came to blows, but he was not armed, and had no illusions that he could go toe to toe with a High Protector, much less this one. He didn't think he'd have to. The Mistress simply did not like Scout Barry Jordan, and took every opportunity to scheme against him and make his life as hard as possible. As Mistress to High Elevate Irvin, she was able to cause serious problems. She was not, however, an Elevate herself. Her official power was nil, and she had no real rank. All that she was truly able to do was based purely upon whether her husband nodded his assent to her demands and gave permission for them to come to fruition. The Mistress, though, was always up to something, and certainly believed she had more power than she really did, or else was good at making others think so.

Still, it was what it was. Barry hated to put things in the open as it could put a target on one's back, but he enjoyed his own protections. "I absolutely must be present in this meeting." Barry said, keeping a respectful tone, but adding just a bit of command. "You know this, and you also know that no one in that room can truly demand that I be blocked, unless the High Elevate himself is in there?" Barry didn't move, not yet. He looked questioningly at the High Protector, meeting his eyes. Most men had to look up at the Protector when face to face, but Barry was just as tall. He pulled a tablet from his pocket, and pretended to read its contents, implying that he was looking at information he would be using in the room behind the guard.

Desmond's mouth frowned just slightly, but that was all the hint he gave at any dissatisfaction with Barry's words. "No, he is not." He hesitated briefly, but then moved aside. "You may enter."

Barry said nothing in response. No thanks were warranted, no compliments deserved, and showing any relief or surprise would shift power, however small, from him to the Mistress. He strode quickly through the now open door and into the staff chamber.
Entering the chamber, he walked towards the semi-circle table, which was open at one end to allow one to walk in its center. The table was arranged so that all nine seats had a view of the room's eastern wall, on which was placed a giant screen surrounded by half a dozen smaller ones. The screens were all powered off at present, their dim screens reflecting the sunlight that poured in from the all glass western wall. Six people were seated at the table, and all turned their attention towards him as he strode to his own chair.

"You're late." Mistress Irvin said, not hiding the disdain in her voice. "The penalty for tardiness is to be denied participation."

As he'd walked in, Barry had seen surprise, anger, and disappointment all fly across Mistress Irvin's face before she'd been able to regain her composure. He looked casually at the screens, as if to see if anything was being presented, then made a show of looking at his tablet and moving through information as he took his spot between Scout Hawk, seated to his right, and Coordinator Zink, to his left. "Meeting is at one. It's 12:45. I'm actually early." Barry said flatly. He sat down as if everything was normal and he was not even slightly bothered.

"The meeting started 15 minutes ago, at 12:30." Mistress Irvin said, sneering slightly. "You seem to have a problem with your appointments. Your tardiness will be noted in the daily report."

Barry tired of these types of power plays. He found this part of the job blasé and boring. Yet failing to take these types of threats seriously and deal with them properly could lead to real repurcussions. Barry sighed openly, so all would know how trivial he thought this conversation was. "I was given a memo,  yesterday at 6:00pm, stating the meeting was at one." Mistress Irvin started to interrupt, her next phrase predictable, but Barry carried on. "And while it is now apparent that the time was adjusted, and a second memo was sent, someone clearly made a mistake and forgot to include me on that. No matter. I'm here now. What do we have on the docket today?"

Mistress Irvin's nostrils flared at the clear dismissal. He was sure she was about argue something or another, but Coach Dixon interjected smoothly. "Right now we are discussing rookie camp and what kind of talent we can expect there." The coach's southern drawl made each word drag just a bit longer than normal, but he was articulate despite that. Dixon had many faults, but he'd earned his position through decades spent in the league.

"I'd like to hear from our scouts what new talent they've found for this year's camp." Mistress Irvin said. "We were close last year, but we've lost our quarterback, our best defensive linebody, and the overall age of the roster is too high. Let's start with Scout Stork." With that, she turned her attention to Amaya Stork, one of the only female scouts in the FSL, who was seated in the first seat on the end of the table, almost across from Barry, and six seats to his left.

He noted Coach Dixon's look of annoyance, and could empathize. It was the Coach's job to run the meetings, and it was no secret Dixon tired of Mistress Irvin's interference. However, High Elevate Irvin was too busy with drink and the company of younger women to understand the damage his wife was doing to the club. HIgh Elevate Irvin loved the Ponies. He was one of the longest tenured team owners in the league, but he generally left the running of the team to the people he brought in to manage it. When he did interfere, the results were often disastrous, and most agreed it was best if he kept his nose out of things. Unfortunately, that also allowed Mistress Irvin to plant herself quite firmly in his place. Everyone knew she whispered lies to her husband and maneuvered constantly to get what she wanted. Barry wasn't sure what her ultimate goal was. She had a good life all in all, especially for a woman in today's age. She had comfort, luxury, and anything a woman could want given the current social climate. Apparently, what she wanted most was to matter. That desire would get her into trouble if she wasn't careful. It was one thing to order about Ponies staff, but something else entirely if she rubbed another Elevate the wrong way.

Coach Dixon said nothing, but nodded to Scout Stork, letting her know she could respond to Mistress Irvin's address. Amaya nodded back, acknowledging his recognition. Amaya Stork was a pretty woman. She stood a tad over 6 feet in height, and had an athletic build befitting a former FSL quarterback. She had played for 14 years before earning enough respect around the FSL to be offered the chance to retire into an administrative position, and she chose scouting. Many thought it an odd choice when she could have gotten into coaching at some level, but he understood it. A scout had freedom to move around and, as long as you struck gold on players every so often, good job security. Coaches that failed often found themselves not just out of a job, but out of the high society as well. Many had been made dedicated to serve the very people they had disappointed, doomed to a life of humiliation. Some had suffered worse than that.

"I have eleven strong recruits that will be here on day one. Of those, I think three could be starters, and the rest may have value but we will have to see what camp forges them into." She looked at both Coach Dixon and Mistress Irvin as she spoke. Her words were for Coach, but she had to keep the Mistress' favor, such as it was.

Amaya turned her attention to Coordinator Zulu. "I'm confident I have a replacement for Simi. I know we can never fully replace someone like her, but I believe I have a potential top tier starter." She was referring to Simi Wall, the Ponies nose tackle who had retired this off season, after seventeen years in the league. Simi had been a force few could handle, and losing her was big. Even in her last year, at thirty-eight years of age, she had wreaked havoc on opposing offenses. Simi had never had to use a single clone voucher, and that itself had made her incredibly valuable. She had been Barry's first find, and she alone had kept him in the High Elevate's favor since his first year as a scout for the team.

Defensive Coordinator Zulu, seated to Amaya's right, spoke up. "Glad to hear it," he said "Our line was in bad shape across the board. We need new blood and without Simi to carry them and hold attention from our opponents we run the risk of getting rolled over if we don't find answers." Amaya nodded in agreement, acknowledging the Coordinator's concerns.

"I trust that you will do your job and ensure that doesn't happen, Mandla," Mistress Irvin interjected. Coach Dixon had been about to speak, and her curt words prevented him from doing so. Mandla Zulu rarely showed any emotion in the meetings, and that did not change now. He did not nod ascent to Mistress Irvin's words, but neither did he argue them. It took all of Barry's composure to keep from rolling his eyes. Laura Irvin may not like him, and might constantly try to undermine him, but a blatant show of disrespect or disgust would turn her dislike into a seething rage, and that was a fire he'd rather not stoke. He desperately wanted to reach into his coat for his flask and take a strong sip from it. Mistress Irvin moved on. "Barry, will you actually be bringing in any starters this year, or will we once again see your recruits as little more than servants destined for lesser estates?" She said this relatively coolly, not openly smirking. While she liked to scheme, she really wasn't that great at it. She'd never do well at poker, he was sure.

"I am bringing in someone the High Elevate will be most pleased with," Barry said, choosing those words carefully, "maybe even our next starting Quarterback." This caused some eyebrows to raise around the table, as it was a bold statement. "Beyond that, we'll see what the camp tree shakes out. I'll have fifteen in attendance on opening day." He made a play of looking through his notes again, ready to be done with this mockery of a discussion and go about his day.

Mistress Irvin was unable to hide her disgust this time. "Ugh. I've heard those words before, and what that usually means is you've found someone for Roger's bed, and not actual talent. Not Skin Ball talent at least. We all know that's the only reason he keeps you around. We'll see how much longer that lasts. Scout Hawk, what do you have for us?" Barry couldn't help but smile at the dismissal, and the petulant outburst. Politically speaking that's what it was. She turned her attention to Joaquin, seated to Barry's right.  

Joaquin Hawk was a sharp man. He was not physically imposing, standing about 5 and a half feet, give or take an inch. He was slightly overweight, though not overly so, and his cropped, deep black hair framed a blocky face with a sharp, protruding nose. His eyes were small, and a deep black, but took in everything. He was Barry's main competition, and quite frankly had been soundly defeating Barry in number of starters on the team for many years. Barry was definitely on borrowed time if he didn't bring in some quality talent. It was only the High Elevate's desire to not brazenly be seen bringing dedicateds into his bedroom that kept Barry in his good graces. If Barry was good at anything it was keeping the High Elevate supplied with gorgeous dedicated that met the man's particular tastes. Many a night spent drinking with the High Elevate had given him a keen insight into Roger's mind, and that was probably his only edge against the competition.  However, it was only a matter of time before he ran out his welcome if the team didn't get back to winning ways soon. The High Elevate loved his harem of sex slaves, but he loved his team more, and desperately wanted a championship. It was no secret that if great strides were not made in regard to the Ponies record this next season it was likely the entire coaching staff, and maybe more, would be on the street.

Joaquin set his own tablet down and clasped his hands on the table. He, too, split his attention between Coach Dixon and Mistress Irvin as he spoke. "I have a mere five recruits for you this year. Four will start for certain, and the fifth will battle for the quarterback spot. If she doesn't win it, she'll definitely be a solid number two that will keep our chosen starter on edge." With that said, he picked his tablet up again and began rolling through some information, or at least pretended to.

Coach Dixon snorted. "We have twenty-five roster spots on the team. We won't be turning them all over, as we did go nine and seven last year, and we were a dropped pass away from the second round of the playoffs. Despite that, the three of you seem certain that at least eight of our roster spots will be replaced, and if your optimism is to be believed almost the entire team!" He laughed, but not in amusement. "I'd rather build on the foundation we have than start a full rebuild, so expect camp competition to be high, and recruits to be put through the toughest camp I've run yet." He looked around the room at each in turn, with the exception of Mistress Irvin, before going on. "The quarterback spot will be our top focus, obviously. I received confirmation yesterday that Harley's injury in the last game is career ending. We all expected this. As you know, we can't use a clone voucher on her as it has to be used between games, during the season, and I doubt Roger would spend one on an aging player that has been decent, but not elite. This leaves that spot open, and the franchise will obviously only go as far as its quarterback goes. I really hope we have some good talent to evaluate this year. Also, I'd like any potential backups to be viable in other positions. We can't afford to have any players riding the pine every game. I need minutes from the entire roster. Understood?"

The scouts nodded their heads simultaneously. Barry knew his own talent wouldn't be fulfilling the coaches wish, minus one possibility. He couldn't shake the feeling this was going to be his last season as a Ponies scout, or as a scout period, if he didn't get a victory. Well, I went all in this year. Played my whole deck. It's all or nothing. At least I have one other ace up my sleeve.

The meeting adjourned, and they filed out one by one. Mistress Irvin and Coach Dixon watched them leave, staying in their seats. Barry did not envy that man, at all.

Chapter 2