Friday Night Lights

[Zak Amroth]

SHESHARILE 6​

​

"Welcome to the Pit, sentient beings! The celebrated Swollo the Hutt commends your choice in entertainment! Now listen up, these are the rules of Huttbaalll! Two teams, Frog Dogs and Rot Worms chosen by random draw! One ball, slippery as a greased Hutt! Grab the ball, throw the ball, get the ball over the opposing team's line any way you can and your team gets a point! Weapons, name calling, and cheating...are all encouraged! But...do not kick the ball! Hutts don't have feet! Show our sponsor Swollo the respect he deserves!"​

​

In that moment, nothing else mattered more to Zak in his entire life.

This was the dream, after all. The Outer Rim Circuit wasn't as renowned as some of the Core World teams, hell they were accepting walk ons, but Hutt Madness was the one time of year where everyone in the Territories who wasn't living under a rock spent an entire month going absolutely wild about the sport. Deputy Amroth didn't understand why exactly, but he had loved Huttball ever since he was a small child. The Guardians of the Whills had been a strict foster family, but they didn't know a thing about the HoloNet, so he had lived vicariously through entertainment media.

Since the old days of the first Huttball matches, there had been only one addition to the rules. No disintegrations. It wasn't exactly a humanitarian gesture, many could still recall the famed championship of 839 when Vikas the Sly had covered the ball with one of his fallen teammate's ashes and rolled it across the opposition's line for a game tying point that remains hotly contested among fans to this day.

"Come on Frog Dogs! Let's do this!" he clapped his hands excitedly, waiting for the particle screen in front of both Frog Dog and Rot Worms to dissipate, signalling the start of play.

His voice came out nasally with the nose plugs in. No one knew why Swollo had chosen a literal dump like Shesharile 6 to build one of his stadiums, but if Zak had to venture a guess he'd bet it had something to do with rock bottom property taxes. Other than the arena practically the entire surface was covered in garbage, a planetary dumping ground for systems all across the Minos Cluster and greater Kathol sector. Gripping his hand cannon tightly, the deputy hoped Swollo hadn't skimped on the energy suppression fields for this stadium. He had seen accidents before, where the games became truly lethal.

 

[Rian Taske]

This place was the woooooooorst.

Filled with literal trash. Rian absently wished that the explosion that had knocked out half of her sight and a chunk of her hearing had also burned out her olfactory senses. She was trying to figure out a down side to that, and at that moment? She honestly couldn't think of one.

The crowd around her let out a roar as the diminutive figure shouldered her way through, trying to get to a spot where she could actually see, well.

Anything.

A full head shorter than everyone else who wasn't a chadra fan, she kept glancing up at the large screens displaying the action for those farther back. Entirely unacceptable. Oh, Rian wasn't a huttball fan in particular- she didn't even know which teams were playing. But she liked sporting events. Not just watching the sport itself but the whole experience. She liked the push of the crowd, the excitement- almost electric in the air- the way people let everything else fall away no matter how bad things were elsewhere. When they were here, at something like this, cheering their guts out.... there was something about it that deeply appealed to her and she wanted to be in the thick of it.

Let it all fall away. Everything else.

Another glance up at the large screen, she took a step forward and -

WHOMP

Rian bounced back off of a solid form that had taken a step backward at the same time.

"Ooph."

And ended up on her arse on the floor.

 

[Nej Tane]

Nej was not a particularly.... morally superior person.

Maybe that's why the Outer Rim appealed to him so much. Much of the law extended to how much firepower you had on your hip (or in case of Nej, on his thigh) and who had more money. He held his hands in the usual spot, his right hand on his belt, his left slightly angled upwards. A common card trick, a habit of gunslingers like him. Fast on the draw, someone might have the drop on you- but if they're looking one way, say, at a shiny ring on his left hand, you pull with your right-

Well that the extra spaces between seconds meant a disruptor shot between them and not you.

The game was easy and simple, violent and crude. It filled the void in Nej, the empty aching dull pain of loneliness. Rebellions would have made her proud, him standing up for something finally. Wherever she was. He turned as he knocked into someone, backpedaling to get a look at a slightly larger screen. That's when the gunslinging idiot knocked over someone. Half-expecting a fight, Nej put up his hands in a mock apology, but, was actually preparing his feet to drop into a shockboxing stance.

The look on Nej's face when he turned to see who he had knocked into, only to look down and see a woman. He felt guilty, and outstretched a worn hand. Anyone who'd been in the medical field could tell that he'd broken his knuckles now and again- the beauty marks of a pugilist. He retained his somewhat handsome, sentimental looks. He smiled at her, breaking the tension.

"Sorry about that! Didn't see you there!"

[member="Rian Taske"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Zak Amroth"] | [member="Rian Taske"] | [member="Nej Tane"] | [member="Larisa Young"]

Lyn didn't strictly speaking give much of a chit when it came to Huttball.

The Hutts were a bunch of greasy (literally) frakkers. All deep in the slavery rings an' all that, but he was a liberal sort of Warden. Which meant that instead of just going in guns blazing? Lyn took a few looks around first. Made sure stuff was the way he thought they were. With him was Larisa. The little girl was... a new addition to his formally one-man operation and he wasn't yet sure how to feel about that.

"An' dun eat it all at once, eh? S'be hot." Pointing towards the meat-in-bun he had just purchased for her at one of the stalls. "Don't got the energy to bacta salve up ya tongue, jus' cus ya burn it."

They strode deeper into the crowd.

"See the crowd, Larry, feel it arouncha. They be a rowdy bunch, so emosh run hard. Yeah?" A stretch. "Dun' just use ya eyes, use da-"

He was interrupted as someone dropped on her ass some meters away from them.

"Didn't realize ya had two left feet, Taske," Lyn shouted bemusedly. "Ya wanna catch up, we be at the bar, eh?" After that Lyneon kept on walking. Lady seemed busy right now, so no point in mixing up with that. "So, as I said- use da senses, don't just accept what ya eyes and ears tell yah."

 

[Aeron Tosh]

Standing on the other side of the particle screen, Aeron heard an opponent from the opposing team - Frog Dogs - try and boost their morale. It only made him more nervous.

Now of course, being a bounty hunter Aeron is use to having to put people down, and frankly he was actually really excited to be able to knock a few people "out of the game" without actually killing them, or having to deal with any law enforcement getting in the way but he was never really use to having hundreds of people watching him do his dirty work. An assassination like he's used to mostly consisted of a one-on-one, sometimes a few one-on-threes if the target had security with him, but this was something entirely out of his league. A whole team brawl, where you actually need to rely on a little more than just your blasters and technology to keep you safe. Aeron started second-guessing his idea to join this event for the money, but it was already too late.

Aeron looked around at his teammates. He didn't take the time to remember any of their names..... Or really anything about them, honestly.

Though Aeron was lost in thought, he was abruptly ripped out of his worry when he saw a lady drop down from the viewer's seats. Aeron covered his mouth and gave a not-so-subtle chuckle, though he was trying not to seem rude.

Pings: [member="Lyneon Typhe"] | [member="Nej Tane"] | [member="Rian Taske"] | [member="Zak Amroth"]

 

[Griet van Vliet]

"Frog Dogs and Rot Worms: these are actually very ancient names, dating back to the very beginning of the sport, long before this brand new no-disintegrations rule went in effect" the resident huttball expert, a Talz accountant that was, in a professional capacity, obsessed with CCA calculations, commented. "Plus back then it was fashionable for dilettantes of all combat skill levels to play it. Early dilettantes included special operations veterans, secret agents, and even Jedi Councillors or Dark Councillors"

"The last huttball game I watched was held so long ago, it was special in that three teams played in it on the First Order's capital planet, rather than the usual two"

Meanwhile, back on Alzoc III, Griet was reflecting on her experience facing down the Supreme Leader and attempting to render him epileptic. Which instead caused her to endure a seizure and lose consciousness. Now that I know how it feels to have a seizure, I know where to fit it in future bounty hunting. That, even though I know that people at my level of power or higher are the people that can defend against it, she thought, while poring at yet another set of financial statements, this time belonging to a Nagai corporation that chose to move to Alzoc III after Saijo was attacked by the Shakurans. Under the tax treaty between the Nagai and the Talz, Farady Inc. is a sojourner the year its "mind and management" moves into Talz-land, which not only creates a deemed year-end, for that fiscal year, it is taxed in full according to Talz fiscal regulations. Which meant that their tax job is becoming that much more complicated, even though the overall rate is similar for ABI after the first 500,000. The statement of earnings and the... statement of financial position (or how Nagai called what virtually everyone else called an income statement and balance sheet respectively) were right in front of her while the staff accountants, Talz and non-Talz, were still working in the mess hall while the huttball game was about to begin. Yet, somehow, Nagai corporate taxation simply used EBIT as a tax base.

"Now, what does the tax treaty say about those memory accounts, that is, CDA, RDTOH, GRIP/LRIP, loss carryovers in this situation?"

"CDA, RDTOH, GRIP/LRIP opening balances at the start of the deemed year-end are deemed to be nil, and the opening Safe Income/ABIL balance, ACBs and UCCs are deemed to be their net book values at the start of the fiscal year, as well as any reserves for AFDAs"

Farady Inc​

Statement of Earnings​

For the year ended...​

​

Sales revenue 1,616,200
Less: Sales discount (5,400)
Net sales 1,610,800
Less: Cost of sales (403,500)
Gross profit 1,207,300

Operating expenses
Wages expense (199,200)
Utilities expense (122,000)
Depreciation expense - equipment (18,000)
Depreciation expense - building (20,000)
Insurance expense (10,600)
Total operating expenses (369,800)
Operating income 837,500

Non-operating activities
Rent revenue 96,000
Interest expense (42,000)
Total non-operating activities 54,000

EBIT 891,500
Current tax expense (222,875)
Net income 668,625

No use trying to build a revised balance sheet before even though the total assets will remain unchanged, their old balance sheet showed total assets of 3,739,500, but revising the income statement will need to be done first. Which means filing their tax return, too, she thought, realizing that the EBITDA is 929,500 and that the only source of deferred tax expense is CCA over the recorded depreciation expense.

 

[Bryce Bantam]

https://youtu.be/de_6KYBb7fw

The side garage doors to the arena bust open sending garbage and dirt flying. First to come through was a red skinned man, long red trench coat flapping in the breeze. Looking around with a face handsome but worn with age, he road atop a beautiful styled woodland Varactyl of the highest breeding, his noble steed "Rainbow Sparkle". One of his prized companions he had gotten his mount at the defence of Utapau and had chosen to pull her out of statuses and take her out for a ride, while planetside.

“Come on Joza, I told you they won't have a place to stable her, I'm gonna need to park her down on near our seats.”

With a mostly empty bottle of wine clenched tightly in his free hand Bryce motioned over to the front row box they had secured for the festivities.


“Race ya there!” he yelled as he spurred his varactyl on word. With a great screech the mighty steed reared up before bolting over the piles of trash, obstacles, and a few players who were just taking the field over toward the opposite side of the stadium and their seats.


Bryce had just gotten back from feth knows where doing feth knows what, but none of that mattered. He was here now, back in the outer rim to have a good time with his old buddy, and whoever else showed the feth up.


Feth ya!

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Anzat did not breathe.

Sor-Jan had learned to mimic the motions of human respiration early in his time with the Jedi Order, being that his apparent lack of respiration had been cause for being singled out once he'd started to attend schooling with other younglings. It had been described to him as creepy, as when the proboscis concealed on his face would occasionally reveal themselves. This was, of course, the result of shattering the illusion that Sor-Jan was human, or very nearly so.

Neither was the case.

The similarities between the Anzati and humans were merely skin deep. But Sor-Jan had learned to be the mimic, so to appease the expected illusion of humanity. To cater to the mistaken assumption of his species. Conscious or otherwise, it was how Anzati operated. As a newborn, he had been abandoned on Corellia in order to be raised by human. To adapt their customs. He had a human name. A human identity.

And still he was nothing human.

Rare was the situation in which Sor-Jan was glad to have been non-human. Yet, a visit to the open garbage pits of Shesharile 6's garden spot was one such moment where the boy could be rather glad that his lack of breathing meant that he wasn't breathing in the smell of the garbage moon.

The boy was paying scant attention to the Huttball game that was taking place in the pit below, and even less to the glass of so-called water that had been brought to him. If they'd told him it was mucus, that would have been more believable. In any event, Sor-Jan was there to try and cement business dealings with Swollo the Hutt.

The Hutts, for good or for ill, had money.

As far as customers went, Corellia Digital could do worse. They could do better as well, but the morally superior idealists rarely had the kind of deep pockets that the Hutts had access to.

 

[Rosa]

Larisa was buzzing on a natural high that was empowered by the crowds around them...and the burger in her hand. Relish dripped down her chin and she leant forward so it didn’t hit her shirt, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she looked up and Lyn and grinned with her mouthful.

She followed a pace or two behind him, drinking everything in and devouring what had to have been her tenth burger since they had left Coruscant. This one had the best relish by far, mixed with the melted cheese and thethick patty...oh crap he was talking to her.

Luckily for her, someone he knew took a fall, she took another bite, stepped a little quicker to catch up with him. “Lemme get this straigh’” she said, accidentally spraying relish everywhere. “Ooo’s ‘orry.” She chewed a little faster and swallowed too big a bite, that made her eyes water and took a long drink from the can in her other hand, trying not to choke.

“Wha’ yur sayin’ is tha’ I shoulda listen to my belly? Righ’? Like I ‘ain’ bin doin’ tha’.” she rolled her eyes and shook her head taking another bite. Her interest in his attempts to teach her thus far had been somewhat lacking. “I thought we were goin’ to a jungle, not a dump.” she continued as a group of urchins wormed their way through the crowd, cutting purses and pickpocketing. One snaked between them and she had a split second to choose between her pop and her burger.

She dropped the pop and seized the kids collar. “Gi’it.” she said calmly through a mouthful of burger. The rodian promptly dropped the credit pouch and Larisa released him. She picked it up, tucked it into her shirt.

It wasn’t hers, but who cared. This was a walk in the park for any urchin, he’d snatch it back from someone else within minutes. Old habits died hard. “Why are we ‘ere?”


[member="Sor-Jan Xantha"][member="Bryce Bantam"][member="Griet van Vliet"][member="Aeron Tosh"][member="Zak Amroth"][member="Lyneon Typhe"][member="Nej Tane"][member="Rian Taske"]

 

[Darth Sin]

Sin watched the game from the spectator seats. He wasn't that big into sports, but he had business with the Hutt in charge...plus it couldn't hurt to interfere with the game a little. Raising people's legs with the Force to make them kick the ball causing them to be executed, perhaps? No, the Quarren wanted something more. Luckily, however, he would soon get it. A drunken Rodian bumped into him, spilling his drink on his head. While he wasn't exactly harmed, the liquid actually feeling rather nice on the aquatic being, such insolence couldn't go unpunished. As the green being yelled at the Sith in its native language, Sin pierced through his chest with two of his facial tentacles. The ear piercing scream would call all attention off the game, and would soon weakly fade as Sin drained and drank all of the alien's blood. He let its corpse fall over onto the floor in a puddle of what remained of the beverage it had poured on him, his eyes glancing over to the arena staring at him. "....What?"

 

[Griet van Vliet]

"Looks like the entire equipment opening balance of 360,000 is to be allocated to class 8. Although, on the balance sheet, the ending balance will be 342,000 net, since there has been no capital acquisitions this year, the opening balance of 1,448,000 for the building is class 1 for CCA"

The CCA calculations mean that 72,000 is taken on the equipment, and 57,920 on the building, for a total CCA of 129,920. A far cry of the accounting amount of 38,000, the difference that will give rise to a deferred tax expense is 91,920. Closing UCCs are hence 288,000 for Class 8 and 1,390,080 for Class 1. No Part IV tax since there is no dividend revenue, and then the taxable income is 799,580, and active business income is therefore 703,580. Then determining the current income tax expense will be the following:

Base Part I tax 303,840 = 799,580*38%
Additional refundable Part I tax 10,240 = 96,000*10-2/3%
Less: General rate reduction (26,465) = 203,580*13%
Less: Small business deduction (90,000) = 500,000*18%
Less: Tax abatement (79,958) = 799,580*10%
Part I tax payable 117,657

But, since the region in which Farady is established has a flat 10% corporate tax rate that doesn't differentiate between the sources of revenue, the total current tax expense is 197,615. Therefore the deferred tax expense is levied at 25%, too. Hence 91,920*25% = 22,980. The journal entry is therefore Dr. Current tax expense 197,615, Dr. Deferred tax expense 22,980, Cr. Income tax payable 220,595. The revised income statement is then

Farady Inc
Statement of Earnings
For the year ended...

Sales revenue 1,616,200
Less: Sales discount (5,400)
Net sales 1,610,800
Less: Cost of sales (403,500)
Gross profit 1,207,300

Operating expenses
Wages expense (199,200)
Utilities expense (122,000)
Depreciation expense - equipment (18,000)
Depreciation expense - building (20,000)
Insurance expense (10,600)
Total operating expenses (369,800)
Operating income 837,500

Non-operating activities
Rent revenue 96,000
Interest expense (42,000)
Total non-operating activities 54,000

EBIT 891,500
Current tax expense (197,615)
Deferred tax expense (22,980)
Net income 670,905

"Phew: I was able to get the CCA done, the determination of income tax expense and the revised income statement before the game starts. But RDTOH, GRIP, CDA..."

"Speaking of RDTOH, starting next year, RDTOH will get more complicated" the huttball expert explained to everyone in the room. "Make sure you leave notes in the client's file about how much GRIP there is, since the RDTOH will be split into two sub-accounts"

"What do you mean, RDTOH is split in two?" Leastre asked.

"The ERDTOH includes Part IV taxes paid from eligible dividends, refunded when eligible dividends are paid, while the NRDTOH includes everything else that went into the RDTOH we are currently calculating, refunded when ineligible dividends are paid. As for the transitional amount, it's the lesser of the closing RDTOH balance and closing GRIP times thirty-eight and one-third percent that will go into the ERDTOH with the remaining RDTOH, if any, going into the opening NRDTOH"

 

[Rian Taske]

"Place is crowded, chit happens, yah?"

She blinked up at him for a moment, then a familiar voice came out of the crowd behind her.

Craning her neck to catch Lyn in her good eye for a moment, she frowned up at him. She hadn't seen him since the cluster-kark on the Astoria, and hadn't been expecting to run into him again, in any format, truth be told. She didn't recognize the kid with him but that wasn't a huge surprise. They weren't close after all. Daughter? Maybe. She had great hair though.

"Yeah, yeah, come a little closer and I'll put these two left feet right up your a-"

A roar of the crowd drown out the last word.

Rian snorted, then looked back up at the man who's back she'd bounced off of. Reaching up, she accepted his hand and the help up with a slight grunt.

"Thanks," she said, glancing up and then down as she brushed her hands off on her pants. Nose wrinkled slightly. The floor here was grooooooss. Gritty, greasy, and sticky all at once. "Feckin' yikes," she muttered to herself more than anything else. Give her a sucking chest wound she'd be fine. But the fact that she had no idea just what coated the floor here- she decided she didn't want to think about it.

"Appreciate it."

[member="Nej Tane"] [member="Lyneon Typhe"] [member="Larisa Young"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Aeron Tosh"] | [member="Griet van Vliet"] | [member="Darth Sin"] | [member="Bryce Bantam"] | [member="Zak Amroth"] | [member="Rian Taske"] | [member="Nej Tane"] | [member="Larisa Young"] | [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]

"Dun feel like it, luv, y'know where to find us if ya wan' take ya chances!" Lyn shouted casually over his shoulder to Rian, before the crowd swallowed him whole. In truth he didn't really put too much thought into her. It was weird that they encountered each other here. The last thing he had been expecting was to see her here. Not after the chit they had gone through on that ship.

Cultists, wounded crying folk, it was a mess.

Here they were though.

"Naw, kid, ain't no belly ya listening to." He bemusedly responded to Larisa. She was a gorram menace and in truth Lyn wasn't sure what to do with her. Train her? Make her a Warden like him? Part of him wondered if it wouldn't be better to drop her off at the nearest orphanage. What the feth did he know about raising a kid. Especially a girl like her.

Should he buy her a doll?

"Da Force. Ya be a Fo-" A glance towards her. "You do know that, right? Dat ya be a Forcer?" He murmured that last part a bit to her, as they settled against the bar. Didn't take much effort to flag down a drink for himself.

A glance to the girl.

Then flagging down an apple juice for her.

"We be looking to see if these fethers slavers or nah," He swiveled around his chair and leaned against the bar. "Make sure they be on the straight and narrows..... speaking of," Two fingers gestured towards her. "Purse please, we dun' do that sort'a chit, got it?"

 

[Aeron Tosh]

As time went on, Aeron gradually became less and less nervous about the match that was about to begin.

....

Yet another disruption from the crowd, "Oh I bet it's not-" a alien just sucked the entire blood out of another alien.

"Jeez... Did you guys see that? I'm starting to think it's more dangerous up there than it is down here, am I right?"

No one laughed. The tensions were still high. Warriors on both teams were determined to win this game. Aeron could see it in the participants' eyes.

The voice of the announcer came over the speaker.

"3"

"2"

"1"

"Begin!"

The particle screen phased out of existence. Aeron put his impulsive plan into action. He activated his cloaking device and moved over to the right side of the arena, planning on catching any opponents by surprise. Immediately the crowd drew it's attention to the intense display that was going on in front of them. People shouted towards the rooftops. Aeron had a difficult time concentrating.

[member="Lyneon Typhe"] | [member="Rian Taske"] | [member="Griet van Vliet"] | [member="Darth Sin"] | [member="Larisa Young"] | [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] | [member="Bryce Bantam"] | [member="Nej Tane"] | [member="Zak Amroth"]

 

[Joza Perl]

The thing about [member="Bryce Bantam"] was, always expect the unexpected.

Rogues had a habit of disappearing and then cropping back up in the oddest of places. Joza herself had settled down—after all, she had a business and a family to take care of. Those things required a measure of stability in your life. Bryce had simply karked off somewhere to do something else, then showed back up years later with huttball tickets. Not a fan of the unpredictable reptilian mounts, Joza had taken a speeder bike to the arena.

It had been a while since she’d been young, dumb and fun, but Joza took solace in the fact that she still looked good in leather. Before she could get a word in edgewise, the beast reared up and bolted towards their seats, inadvertently smacking her in the face with its tail. “Ow! Damnit, Bantam!” The impact stung but she was no worse for the wear, however she dropped both six-packs she’d been carrying. Thankfully, they were the kind that came with little handles.

Rubbing the red mark across her face, the Zeltron twisted the cap off of one of the beers, downed it quickly, belched, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and made her way over to their seats. Rainbow Sparkle her ass.

 

[Darth Sin]

(OOC: I'd just like to point out how I love the fact that the people here saw an alien drink another alien like a Kool-Aid pouch and everyone was like "Well, that happened")

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

At least the exchange rate out here wasn't terrible.

The tow-headed boy casually played one of the golden coins around in the palm of his hand, having traded several galactic credits for some wupiupi. The Intergalactic Banking Clans liked to think that they were the Cosmic World Bank, but the reality was that the sphere of their influence didn't extend far beyond the Corporate Sector and Expansion Region. Out here, people didn't want credit, they wanted cash.

The youngling knight had put some coin down on the Huttball game, as was expected. He wasn't even sure which team he'd bet on, but Huttball was so random that it hardly mattered. The team rosters were as chaotic as the rest of the game, which eliminated the notion of favoring one over another.

At the moment, the Anzat was seated atop a bar stool, wrapping up a conversation with a Duros smuggler. He was looking for some alternative routes through hyperspace. Specifically with regard to circumnavigating the First Order blockade of Coalition space.

Even as he'd been discussing coordinates with the Duros, the boy had the unmistakable premonition that he was being watched. Deceptively human blue eyes peered around the Duros, to where a Transdoshan seemed to be sizing the youngling up.

His gaze connected with that of the Transdoshan. The two exchanging a nod with respect to the other.

The Duros took his leave. The boy looking up at the alien as the pair parted ways. Swiveling around, Sor-Jan picked up the dirty glass that had been set in front of him, contemplating the viscous fluid that had been described to him as water, and then casually tipped it out onto the floor before discarding the glass.

What did a youngling have to do to get a root beer float around here?

A presence brushed up against the boy, as a similarly diminutive figure squeezed in at the bar. "You wanna buy some deathsticks?"

It was a moment before Sor-Jan had realized that the question had been intended for him. The boy did a double-take, as he realized that there was a Chadra-Fan pressing a deathstick in his direction.

He was fifty-nine-and-a-half! That wasn't even adolescent for his species. Sor-Jan wasn't one of those kids who could pass for eighteen in middle school. Most humans pegged him as being ten, or around that age. "Bloody hell," the Corellian youth muttered under his breath. Even as he gave a shake of his head, the child's right hand made a gesture in the air as he said, "You don't want to sell me deathsticks."

"I don't want to sell you deathsticks," the bat-like creature echoed, pulling back the deathstick.

Another gesture. "You want to go home and think about what you're doing with your life."

The Chadra-Fan shied back from the bar. "I want to go home and think about what I'm doing with my life," the creature intoned vacantly, before slipping back through the crowd that was observing the game.

It was then that the scream cut across the stadium. Instinctively, Sor-Jan's head turned back toward where the Transdoshan had been seated, while his hand moved to the butt of the hold-out blaster he was carrying. The Transdoshan was doing the same, cradling a blaster carbine, but otherwise didn't seem to be involved in whatever had caused the commotion.

Following along where the Transdoshan seemed to have his attention fixed, the boy saw a Quarren standing over the body of a Rodian, and relaxed slightly. For a second, sitting atop a garbage moon, schmoozing gangsters and betting on a game of Huttball, Sor-Jan might have forgotten that he was in the Outer Rim. A bit of public murder however?

Definitely the Outer Rim.

 

[Zak Amroth]

The moment the particle screen in front of him faded, all semblance of strategy and coordination flooded from Zak's mind.

He had been paying attention to the brief strategy sessions the other Frog Dogs had discussed while they were waiting for the match to begin, and at the time the role he had been assigned made sense. But the moment the announcer shouted that the match was to begin, all the young Jedi could focus on was the shining huttball at the center of the arena. Swollo had designed his stadium on Shesharile 6 as a perfect replica of the famed Pit on Nar Shaddaa where some of the first matches of the then burgeoning sporting event had been broadcasted to the rest of the galaxy for the first time.

There was a wide pit of acid in front of each team's score line, not potent enough to be lethal but certainly not a good time for anyone unlucky enough to fall in. On either end of the pit were two ramps leading up to a raised platform that overlooked the center of the arena, with two more ramps down on the opposing end, and fire traps at various platform intersections. Players could also take the long way around, skirting the acid pits entirely and coming into the center from directly underneath the platforms.

"I got it!" Zak shouted, despite his team's protests, and made a running leap clear over the acid pits, nearly smashing his head into the platform above. With his Force enhanced leap, he was one of the first players on either team to make it to the center stage. Before him was the huttball, floating in all its glory suspended above an anti-grav field in the center of the field. Every time either team scored the ball would be returned to this spot before play resumed.

Brimming with confidence, the deputy took a few self assured steps towards his prize before the entire world erupted all around him. A steady stream of las bolts sent him diving for cover behind one of the barricades set up at various strategic points throughout the arena. Zak glanced around the corner before another flurry of bolts drove him scampering back, just long enough to catch a glimpse of one of the Rot Worms on the far raised platform, brandishing a vicious looking heavy autoblaster.

[member="Aeron Tosh"] | [member="Lyneon Typhe"] | [member="Rian Taske"] | [member="Griet van Vliet"] | [member="Darth Sin"] | [member="Larisa Young"] | [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] | [member="Bryce Bantam"] | [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Nej Tane"]​

 

[Aeron Tosh]

Patiently waiting under the guise of his invisibility, Aeron eventually was able to shoot down one unsuspecting Frog Dog and proceeded to make his way around the entire arena so he could catch the other Frog Dogs by surprise. Aeron's plan from the beginning was to use his experience in stealth and tracking skills he's gained as a bounty hunter to deal with the enemies, while his teammates captured the greasy huttball.

Aeron slithered past the huttball, where [member="Zak Amroth"] magically leaped into the air 10 times the height or strength of a normal human and landed right in front of the huttball.

"Jedi... Of course. Always a jedi. Nothing I haven't dealt with before though" Aeron couldn't help but mutter to himself.

Thankfully the force user's efforts were quickly shut down by Zac - Aeron's big, broad-shouldered heavy blaster welding teammate - who was all muscle and no brain.

After making his way past the huttball, Aeron went over the opposing team's acid pit, and started making his way up the ramp on their side.

pow right to the back of one of Aeron's opponents. They never saw it coming.

"Less suppressive fire for my teammates to have to deal with", Aeron thought to himself.

 

[Darth Sin]

As Sin finished his 'Beverage', the Sith Lord turned to find numerous creatures at him. He wasn't surprised, but somewhat concerned that they had blasters trained on him. He decided to ease the situation in a unique way...his way. He reached into his cloak and took out a single lightsaber, igniting the red blade. Most of the people aiming at him were smart enough to put their weapons away, but some...not so much. As they fired red blaster bolts at him he swiftly deflected them, piercing through their chests and heads and putting them down. "Hmph, and here I was hoping to avoid causing a scene." He said, deactivating his saber and putting it on his belt. He then resumed sitting like nothing had happened.