Holonet The Traumsen Hour: Commentators Slacking at the Galactic Kaggath

[Trinn Traumsen]

The Traumsen Hour returns, and once again it permeates like malware across the galaxy, to a device near you.

"Hello Galaxiens, I am Trinn Traumsen with THC, and this is the Traumsen Hour."

A statement delivered with that classic, fake smile masking the stress of a relentless media ego.

"Today's top story: the Galactic Kaggath is underway in what has become a spectacle of blood, betting, and partying as fighters duel to the death on Ruusan. However, one thing has been missing, according to this reporter's expert opinion. Where the $^@$ are the @!%&ing commentators!?" Her foul language, of course, had been censored.

"This is gold, people, gold! Your voice matters, but all I see are galactic leaders and so-called experts swiveling in their chairs and letting the audience do the talking for them! Except for the wonderfully insightful Ashin Cardé Varanin , who has skillfully directed the conversation so far."

A clip of her commentary is played next.

"Have you noticed," she said, "that the pyrotechnics are not about power so much as about...genre? I look at these fights and the scope and flamboyance of them varies so widely, not just between matches but between combatants. This event has something suitable for every taste. Some of it's even to mine. One area where I think some of our fighters have a great deal to learn is how heavily they're overcommitting — sinking everything they have into what they feel a Sith Lord or a...galactic-kaggath-scale combatant should be able to do. It's leaving them open, it's draining them, and you can start to see good sense win out. Not restraint, necessarily, but efficient use of violence rather than overconfident, self-indulgent camera play.

"And it's not always on the side with the most experience. Personally, I'm appreciating Gida Luroon's creative use of the shifting environment against significant odds, while wounded.

"I'll turn the question to the table. Is there anyone doing work today that impresses you — within the scope of their capabilities, of course? Who stands out?"

The camera returns to Trinn with a grin turned sad and sour. "In other news, the ecological disaster on Manaan continues to spiral out of control. Local authorities cite a lack of volunteers and critical aid to curtail the 180,000kg of spice rapidly dissolving in the sea..."

 

[Jobbi Chantin]

[ hololink forwarded to Xuko Pagoi ]

>>See! Here's proof my dad could beat up your dad!<<

The blade was still inside him.

Burning, biting, digging deeper with every servomotor-assisted thrust of Lirka’s arm. The fat sizzled. A lung collapsed. Blood filled the wound and steamed around the blade.

>>... Oh...<<

...

[SleemetteTheGreat disconnected]

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

"In other news, the ecological disaster on Manaan continues to spiral out of control. Local authorities cite a lack of volunteers and critical aid to curtail the 180,000kg of spice rapidly dissolving in the sea..."

Ashin, taking a refreshing ocean skinny-dip on Manaan to test drive her newest body, could not be reached for comment.

 

[Darth Kentarch]

Somewhere in Jutrand on the HNSZ set...

"WHERE THE HELL IS MY PUBLICIST, AND I WANT TO TALK TO EMPYRE MAGAZINE PR AGENT!" Kentarch shouted on the Holonet SportZone set. "AND WHO THE HELL IS Trinn Traumsen !"

The interns rushed about as Kentarch raged, while the producers and director scrambled to calm the Sith Lord down. Kentarch was currently fuming because, just moments ago, he had walked into the media control room and caught an airing of The Traumsen Hour, where Trinn was openly criticizing his recent lackluster performance, or rather lack of it.

Hallexa Vree, the Chiss producer, stood her ground with arms crossed. "Well, you didn't even bother going to Ruusan. No, you sent a holodroid that mimics you, based on your actions here at the studio. Do you have any idea how low your poll numbers are right now? Hmm?"

"Your coffee, sir." An intern said.

Kentarch swatted the coffee to the ground. "Do I look like some hipster idiot with an overinflated opinion of himself!? HUH!? I asked for an orange soda with light ice!"

Hellexa sighed. "What are you even going to say to Empyre magazine, hmm?"

"I'll tell you what I'm going to say. There is no reason why I should not be, after ten years, in the top ten cape wearers in the galaxy. How do I still get beaten by Lando Calrissian?"

Hellexa shook her head in comic disbelief.

"You tell them they are not to run any articles by this Trinn Traimsen, nice double-initials too. Who is T.T. anyways? There's a name that rolls off the tongue like a lightsaber rolling off a balcony. She is either gonna save the galaxy tonight or sue it."

Hellexa took a moment to take a long exhale. Just before another intern arrived.

"Uh, sir... Your publicist has arrived."

"Good, tell him he is fired. And get out of my face."

"So you're going to have to do the sponsor and headlines still. Can you manage that?" Hellexa asked.

Kentarch rocked his blackened visage back and forth. "Ah, yes, HNSZ and the proud sponsor of tonight's event, McYoda's. When Sith duel to the death, only one sponsor dares to ask: Would you like fries with that destiny? But first, tonight's headline news. Ewok Tossing League fined by Galactic Alliance Ethics Board, league commissioner unavailable for comment."

Hellexa smiled. "You're on in 5."

 

[Delila Castillon]

Ashin, taking a refreshing ocean skinny-dip on Manaan to test drive her newest body, could not be reached for comment

Appearing on the beach, Delila shook her head. Not at the skinny-dipping. No, that was oddly on brand that Ashin Cardé Varanin would continue to do so. How did the woman know? Was she spied on throughout the years? Or was skinny dipping more common than first suspected? Something about the thrill of just you and the water.

Either way, the ghostly form called out.

"Sunscreen! You need sunscreen! My body is going to end up freckling and burning." A small pause. "What the hell is wrong with you? Cant you see how pale everything is?"

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

"Sunscreen! You need sunscreen! My body is going to end up freckling and burning." A small pause. "What the hell is wrong with you? Cant you see how pale everything is?"

There came a startled, burbling, flounderingly oceanic noise that bore — to the informed observer — a more than casual resemblance to the ancient Sith ritual idiom khodfukhindammyt.

Mistakes had been made.

 

[Delila Castillon]

There came a startled, burbling, flounderingly oceanic noise that bore — to the informed observer — a more than casual resemblance to the ancient Sith ritual idiom khodfukhindammyt.

Mistakes had been made.

Floating effortlessly off the beach - cause hey, ghost - Delila's sparkly little transparent form hovered over the ocean waves now. It was easy to spot her old body, her pale buttcheeks all but a buoy in the brilliant jewel of an ocean. A deep sigh (can ghosts sigh?) as the burbling occurred. Annoyance was also setting in.

"Stop breathing in sea water." A pause. " Don't pretend you can't hear me."

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

"Stop breathing in sea water." A pause. " Don't pretend you can't hear me."

Begrudgingly, with a fury that had unmade small stars, Ashin surfaced to the level of her chin and no farther.

"I would be remiss to not take into account the expertise of the previous owner. Very well, Castillon. I accept your dermatological wisdom. I am due back on Ruusan to carry the second round. Sunburn would be undignified."

 

[Fenn Stag]

Fenn Stag was attempted to be reached for comment following his duel with the Jedi, Balun Dashiell .

Our Reporter was given a wedgie, a noogie, and left hanging by his belt in a coat room near the arena.