Welcome...To Tortuga! [Recruitment for the Outlaws of the Outer Rim]

[Gregor Montague]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PN7EkJv98PQ

[SIZE=10.5pt]No man, woman or child could ever have said that they'd lived a full and sustaining life if they'd never headed to [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Tortuga Star Dock. While many would argue that Mos Eisley Spaceport was a more wretched hive of scum and villainy, Tortuga attracted the sort of crowd which couldn't make it to Mos Eisley due to bans in their cantinas, or bounties put on their heads by local crime lords. It was the sort of place which attracted a rougher, more violent crowd. One which sneered at the veneer of civility Tatooine's cantinas offered. [/SIZE]

Filled to the brink with pirates, bounty hunters, smugglers, and women of dubious moral fibre, it was the perfect place to set up a recruiting station for Captain Gregor Montague. In the middle of the stations cantina, the captain silently sat, observing the bar fights and excessive drinking. The Captain had set up shop in the back corner of the room, insulated from the violence of the debaucherous maelstrom. In front of him sat a table he'd neatly pulled over, and on that a piece of paper. A sign up sheet for those wanting to join the crew he was setting up. Gregor knew that in the chaos, there most certainly were some layabouts desperate for work. Desperate for some way off of here. All he had to do, was wait for them.

 

[Abaddon Velshaar]

His small taste within the Underworld failed to satiate his palette. He simply craved more. He was able to get a hold of a few distant relatives, they pointed him in the direction of Tortuga. In truth, he had never been to Tattooine before. A lot of it reminded him of Korriban. Part of him missed home, the other part seethed with hatred as he remembered the falling bombs that killed his family.

Luckily enough, it wasn't difficult to find the station's cantina. Terrific timing because, frankly, he needed a drink. Walking into the establishment, he couldn't help but smirk to himself. Now these were his kind of people. An establishment filled to the very brim with n'er-do-wells. Walking up to the bar, he leaned on the structure, motioning for the barkeep to hop over. Begrudgingly, the man did, wiping out a glass. "What'll ye have?"

"Rum, mate. And a bit of information." The barkeep's eyebrow raised. "What kind of information?" Abaddon leaned in, making sure the conversation stayed between the two of them. "I hear there's a captain here looking for a new crew." The barkeep nodded, motioning over to [member="Gregor Montague "]and the table he sat at. Producing a shotglass, he poured a shot for the young patron. Abaddon drank it rather hastily, enjoying the burn as it slithered down to his stomach.

Two more shots and he paid the man. Making his way to the back of the establishment, he stepped up to Captain Montague's table. Checking out the sheet, he signed his name. He then went and addressed the man at the table. "Captain." he said, bowing his head. His hand then outstretched. "Abaddon Velshaar. Mind if I join you, sir?"

 

[Causstik Rahn]

Causstik Rahn and his crew littered the bar. They were privateers, mercenaries, reavers, marauders and most of all slavers. They frequented this side of space regularly as no law man would cause trouble for them here. In fact the only law here was that of the gun, and Causstik and his Trandoshan band had no shortage of guns. They did need work though. The Cartel wasn't supplying the jobs promised and Causstik's fleet (A small rag tag band of ships stolen whilst privateering) were falling into disrepair. Causstik sat with his feet propped on a table and his hat tucked low so no one would see him watching. Well, Everything. He sat with his two greatest warriors. Not that he needed protection. They merely helped keep people from nosing where they didn't belong. Causstik was seven foot and over three hundred pounds of muscle. Not to mention he was a schizophrenic pyro-maniac as well. He saw people beginning to approach a man with a small piece of paper in front of him. Plunder, riches, and slaves The very words seemed to emanate from the mans very being.

"Lucumba," Causstik hissed and his two cronies fell in behind him as he shoved his way to the mans table. Anyone who opened there mouths to protest quickly found themselves shutting back up after they realized how big the Trandoshan was. He arrived in the dark corner and gave the man a careful eye.

Causstik made a big pointy toothed smile, a friendly gesture that would seem quiet terrifying to anyone who had never seen a Trandoshan before. "What work would we be doing if I and my crew joined you?"

@Gregor Montague

 

[Gregor Montague]

"Gentlemen, what I pleasure we find ourselves in," he greeted warmly, "My name is Cap'n Gregor Montague and it be a pleasure to make both of ye carbuncles." The pirate offered, "Now, I take it ye want to hear what I be offerin' for ya." he said, pausing a little to take a swig from his tankard of rum, "I offer ye the basic tenants any man needs to make a living. Rum, credits and enough pleasurable company to make the pain of life seem gone." The captain looked over them, "Now ye look like you can handle yerselves, but what I'm asking for is loyalty and fighting spirit that hasn't been seen since days of legend." He once again paused for dramatic effect. "What I'm talking about, is formin' our own patch, away from these faux imperials and Jedi arse lickers. A land where we pirates can live free of the tyranny of the righteous and the malignent, a land where an honest buccaneer can make his home and store his plunder." he took another swig, "I'm talking war and conquest!"

[member="Causstik Rahn"] and [member="Abaddon Velshaar"]

 

[Itagert]

Entering Tortuga was a nightmare, but a nightmare Itagert was used to. The chaos of the station made him feel at home. He had just returned from a failed attempt at raiding a spice shipment. He wasn't anticipating such a escort for the poodoo. His crew had all died and Itagert barely escaped himself. He planned on dumping his ship today and getting work elsewhere.

He went to the cantina, hoping for a strong drink, and if luck was on his side, a good future employer.

He went to the bar, barely dodging a punch from a belligerent drunk.

"Corrilian Ale... in a clean glass," Itagert says to the bartender.

"Ey, you slimy Selkath, you better have brought me those spices," a voice behind him says

"They is in my ship out in the docks."

"I knows when you is lying to me Itagert. You better find a way to get me those spices... or I'll thump ya."

It was Mork, his previous employer. Itagert had been warned about him before, but he was very drunk when he started working with him.

"Hey, if you need a ship and you need to get those spices, that captain, his name is Captain Gregor Montague over there is looking for a crew," The bartender says to Itagert.

Itagert walked to [member="Gregor Montague"]

"Cap'n Grega Montagoo, pleased to meet ya!"

 

[Thraxis]

Pirates... the name alone rolls from the tongue, yet is universally recognized as a hive of villainy, normally a step away from becoming a syndicate or becoming engulfed in the turmoils of large scale gangs. On the holonet there were always ads, though never were the straight out about it, normally they would set up a meeting, then when ya go for the interview, ya bludgeoned and abducted into the pirate life. At least, that is if you can't read the words between.

"Tortuga? Well, if ya got the courage to start a pirate crew there, ya got the courage to start a pirate crew anywhere." he said as he removed himself from the ship, his Armor emblazoned with the Cartel Signture on the back, while the less known signature of the Jackals was crudely drawn on the Mask. Few men recognized the mark of the once great Pirate Crew, but those who did knew quite well to steer clear from them. Though when they looked to the back, a few more decided to escape. Though more saw it as a challenge, ya could always make your name by leaving a member of the Cartel six feet in the briny deep.

Slowly he swung open the doors, his deathly stare beneath the mask looking over and around, in one hand a large bottle of hardy drink, enough to knock a Gammorean over portside, and in the other, a Yellow Stained Duffel bag, each one hanging precariously between two digits. As he looked over he saw a few ganging formed around the tables that littered the Cantina, though to identify someone aspiring to be a Pirate lord, it wasn't hard to see. He paused for a few seconds, the visible signs of his helmet bobbing up and down as he sized the captain up. "Well, ain't too hard to tell what he wants." he said beneath his breath, his voice hushed once by the mask and a second by the cacophony of deals that rattled throughout the building.

Slowly he made his approach, a sense of power with every step as he looked towards the barkeep, his voice raising for a second, "Round of drinks for all!" he yelled, his arms raised high in the air, hoping for a choir of cheers and chants. They say the way to a mans heart is food, well their wrong, the truest method to get to a mans heart, is free stuff.
[member="Itagert"] [member="Gregor Montague "][member="Causstik Rahn"]
[member="Abaddon Velshaar"]

 

[Gregor Montague]

Gregor paused and looked at the newcomer with a derisive stare, "Master [member="Itagert"] yer incompetence precedes you, sit please. You only interupted me mid rant." he glowered condescendingly, before turning back to the Trandoshian and other human, "Lads, what be happening in our Galaxy, is that we're constantly pushed down by faux empires, and hypocritical Jedi. The Mandolorians are a shadow of their former selves. No one has ever run the Galaxy properly is what I'm getting at."

Gregor paused at the ferocious cheer caused by [member="Thraxis"]' kindly act of charity. "I think now is the time we strike. We finally create our own land, with our own rules. Ye interested?"

[member="Causstik Rahn"] | [member="Abaddon Velshaar"]

 

[Itagert]

"Sorry Cap'n." Itagert let the Captain [member="Gregor Montague "]speak, making sure to keep his mouth shut.

In response to the Captain's request Itagert says, "Yeah, absolutely. If you'll have me, I'll be a good crewmate. I want me some credits and to bully those Jedis and Boba Fettish guys a bit."

 

[Causstik Rahn]

Causstik rubbed his chin and mulled the idea over in his mind. He had a sizable force of Trandoshan's and if led by these men here they could get things done more efficiently, but what this man was suggesting was... Domination. Carving out an empire of there own. One made and ruled by pirates and scum. It would be difficult to make and even more difficult to hold on too. Especially once the other factions of the galaxy learned there was a concentrated system of criminal scum ripe for the purging. Then again the Hutts seemed to do fine and why should they be the only public criminal empire. Causstik decided the man's terms were enticing and he wanted a slice of the pie. He slammed his fist on the table and roared in approval. "TO CAPTAIN MONTAGUE!" He lifted his drink and drained it. While he did so his band of Trandoshan's picked up the cry and chanted the captains name.

"We are with you!" Causstik didn't know how to write so he simply bit his thumb and left his print on the paper.

[member="Gregor Montague "], [member="Itagert"], [member="Thraxis"], [member="Abaddon Velshaar"]

 

[Abaddon Velshaar]

Blue eyes rested on [member="Causstik Rahn"] before moving back to Captain [member="Gregor Montague "]as he listened to what the man had to say. He was ambitious, to say the least. Abaddon respected ambition. It meant that he had more on the mind than just mindless acts of piracy. The good captain seemed to be a man that had a plan, and that he was a man of action.

A rather amused grin cascaded over his lips as the Captain scolded [member="Itagert"] for his interruption. There was one thing that couldn't be denied. These were some ugly, ugly individuals. Like, "Tie the steak to your neck so the family pet will play with you" ugly. Luckily for them, Abaddon embraced ugly company. You see, the Zeltron half-breed was already rather attractive.

Put him next to these deckhands, and he looked like he was carved of marble.

His thoughts were interrupted by the commotion caused by [member="Thraxis"] and the man's generosity by buying the cantina around. A nice gesture, no doubt. But was it a wise move in order to go flashing your credits around in a den of thieves? Blue eyes rested on Itagert as he spoke of wanting to bully. A light scoff escaped his lips. But then the Trandoshian toasted the good captain, and Abaddon pulled the flask of rum out of his vest and raised it to the Captain before taking a solid pull.

"You certainly know how to stir a crowd, Captain. I, of course, cannot match the poetry and philosophy displayed by Master Itagert. Nor can I match the volume of..." He looked over to the Trandoshians, shrugging his shoulders. "Iguanas. But, I'm with you as well, Captain."

 

[Gregor Montague]

"Yee gentlemen be too kind," The captain said, taking a swig from his tankard, "And judging by the enthusiasm of our Trandoshian associate, I'd say we have an accord." he said with a warm chuckle, "Now gents, if you wouldn't mind, I think I have a drink to claim." he said, walking towards [member="Thraxis"] ,he tapped the man on the back "An act of generosity of your sort makes ye stand out," he said with a small smile. Gregor knew a man like this was here for purpose, and not to satiate the thirst of the wicked. "So what the bloomin' heck is ye business here sir?" he asked, visibly reaching for a pistol on his belt.

[member="Abaddon Velshaar"] | [member="Causstik Rahn"] | [member="Itagert"]

 

[Thraxis]

Thraxis took note of the small gesture, the thought of ignorance of his presence was one he was all too familiar with these days, "Ahhh, few a man ever bother to pay me attention, I had a thought that this might be 'nother one of those days." he responded, a toothy smile stretching across his face, hidden beneath the emblazoned tattoo of the jackals, "And since ya don't recognize my emblem, let me show you the one on me back." he continued, turning around, hoping the image of the Cartel might spark some interest or some sort of notoriety. Though from the way the cartel had gone, it wouldn't surprise him if it was nothing more then another signature of a gang.

"Dunno if ya can tell, but I come here as a representative of the Cartel," he stated, before letting loose a sigh, "Though, personally I came here more as a representative of the now dead Jackals." he trailed off, turning around to face the man and size him up once again, he certainly had the look of a Pirate, especially that of the olden days, back when a Pirate looked like a Pirate, not some fancy smuggler, not some degenerate Spice addict, no this man had the look and feel of an honest to goodness Pirate and it sparked a measure of hope in his eyes.

"The truth of the matter is, it be a cold day in the brine to find an actual Pirate crew, let alone one I can see might have an inkling of a chance in this sea of a galaxy." he continued, dropping down as he started to dig through his Duffel bag, pulling out a single piece of paper, "So I was wondering if ya had room for another?" he said as he removed his helmet, his gaze meeting his "Or, if not for another member, at least some work from the cartel? It is rare a day that I find some proper pirate crew in these days." he continued before trailing back down, his hands digging through the bag once again this time to pull out a folder, a staple in it with a long list of Hutty stuff that meant little to nothing to him.
[member="Gregor Montague "][member="Causstik Rahn"]
[member="Itagert"] [member="Abaddon Velshaar"]

 

[Gregor Montague]

The pirate listened to the man, aye, he'd heard of the Jackals, a time long before this moment. He could tell the man was jaded, perhaps a little cynical, but at least he wanted to join. Gregor lowered his arm, and holstered the pistol into his belt. He'd made a good point, and another soul wouldn't hurt their chances. But he was a little insulted by the offer to work for some kind of cartel. Did he look like some kind of lackey in need of Hutt's help? "I want naught to do with precious slugs and their useless cartels," he said curtly, "They do nothin' but hoard their gold and credits, and do none of the actual work." he snatched up the piece of paper the man held, "But I would gladly have ye aboard my ship." The captain replied, "Welcome aboard the Rapine, jackal."

[member="Thraxis"] | [member="Abaddon Velshaar"] | [member="Itagert"] | [member="Causstik Rahn"]

 

[Areiana_Slayer]

Areaiana leaned againt one wall a mug of something in one hand. She was pretty women long red hair pulled into a tight braid. Her right eye was a Dark blue while her left was Jade green but her eyes also showed she had been through a lot in her short life. She wore a blaster at her side and a riffle to her back and that was the weapons you could see she was sure to be hiding more on her body somewhere. She was waiting for her buyer to show up but he was late. She was suppose to deliver some spices to a dealer but he was a no show and she was getting tired of waiting for him. She pulled away from the wall going to the bar to order another drink when a drunken man ran into her hard she manged not to stumbled even when he pushed her. She even manged a fake smile as he thought she was selling her body here. He pulled out some credits waving it in her face. She smiled at him leaning over as if to kiss him before swinging her right fist into the side of his head hard sending him backwards into a table smashing it. He was stunned and prob seeing stars but he reached for his gun. She shook her head. "Wont do that if i were you friend." A look down would show that She had her gun out pressed againt his crouch. she smiled again at him but it was as cold as her eyes now.
His friend must have saw what happened and jumped her. He punched her square in the jaw and she stumbled back againt the bar. she spit a little blood and cussed lightly under her breath seeing she had dropped her blaster on the floor. He came running at her now and she leaned back againt the bar kicking him hard between the legs sending him to the ground. She manged to duck and avoid another punch before getting hit in the face again and a third punch in the stomach sent her to the ground. She rolled out of the way of a kick to the face grabbing the man she had hit early leg bring her elbow down on it a loud snap could be heard as she broke his leg she rolled around bring a very small gun she had hidden somewhere on her and brought it to the side of his head. "Last warning leave or the nice barkeep will be cleaning up a body." The man put his hand up and she let go of his leg and his friend struggling to walk himself came over and took the man and they stumbled off. She groin sitting at the bar, she took out some credits siting it on the bar to pay for the damages. "Can i get something stronger over here."