Public Pieces of Eight (Port Borgo)

[Nero Drake]

"They say of Borgo, you'll rest well in a soft bed or a shallow grave."
- ancient pirate proverb​

---

"Is this thing...safe?"

Nero tried not to sound nervous, but he couldn't keep his eyes off the dinghy's fragile looking hull. A thin layer of transparent plastic was all that separated him from the void. His tiny little teek pilot chittered a response that didn't comfort the young wastrel since he couldn't understand a word. Drake let go of a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding in once they passed through the magnetic field that kept the infamous shadowport afloat.

"How much do I owe you?"

He traded a few measly credits in exchange for spit on his mask and a rude gesture as the teek scrambled off. Nero couldn't blame the creature since he'd spent everything else bartering passage from Coruscant. Pirates rarely ventured into the core but he'd been fascinated by the legends since he was a child. It only took a few steps onto the docks before he was surrounded by the real thing.

Crews unloaded stolen cargo to be fenced on the local black market. Some were scarred while others bore cybernetic replacements. Fights broke out. Most of them ended bloody. In a strange way it reminded Nero of the undercity. He wasn't a complete fool though. To survive in a place like Port Borgo he needed to make friends fast. Rumor was that the notorious pirate king Diodoros might be headed to this system. If that was a wild bantha chase, then there had to be a captain somewhere on this rock in need of fresh crew.

His stomach grumbled as he lingered by a menagerie of fried critters Nero had never seen before until one of the market cooks cursed at him in huttese and he quickly moved on to avoid a fight. A place like Port Borgo sold anything you could imagine for the right price, but Nero needed to earn his fortune before he could spend it. Piracy's last golden age died at the end of the Hyperspace War when the galactic powers were no longer distracted by conflict, but now with tensions on the rise again their attacks were beginning to grow bolder. Some crews were even working together to take larger prizes like the old Kraken Coalition used to. Such fragile alliances could be very profitable yet weren't fated to last.

"Watch it, sleemo."

He knew it was a mistake even though the weequay had roughly shouldered Nero aside, but he was still surprised by the speed at which the pirate turned and drew their blade. It was over quickly. Somehow the young kid's vibroknife had buried itself in his attacker's ribs. He clutched at his bleeding arm, stooping to pick up the weequay's fallen sword before pushing his way through the crowd. No authorities would be coming. Just another argument resolved on Port Borgo, but that dead pirate was bound to have friends.

 

[Kaljak Rakham]

Port Borgo

A place of absolute anarchy and underworld tendrils. The air was filled with the smells of various foodstuffs being cooked on ramshackle ranges, the chatter of crews swapping stories, and clinking of credit chits passing from one hand to another. The wounding of one buccaneering warrior to another. As soon as the Weequay dropped, a man dressed none too dissimilarly to Nero stepped forth. His outfit was red like human blood, face obscured by an equally red-marked helm. He knelt to the fallen Sriluurian man.

“Now, tisn't that a damned shame?” The mysterious man spoke with chiding, gravelly tone, “Aye, but what can ya do in Borgo? Ye weren't one fer manners, tho, were ya, Sledge?”

The man in crimson gestured to a couple of his lackeys. His helmeted face scanned the crowd, looking for the emboldened twit who had felled his man. He took notice of the young man grasping at his arm, to which the red-coated man grunted. He motioned to his crew, who stood and readied their blasters in case their crimson captain decided to call the order.

“YOU THERE!” He roared at Nero, “Seems I'm a short a bosun because yer blade.”

The air began to become tense. Port Borgo was indeed a place of violence and treachery. Thusly, its denizens were always at the ready to be a crossroads of crossfire between arguing factions of pirates and their crews. The red-coat stepped carefully forward, having an authoritative swagger in his step. This was indeed a captain of man years.

“However, I can fergive ya. He was a kark-poor bosun at that.” He started to hoarsely laugh, “Instead of stabbin' yer way cross this place, friend, come join me and my lads for some hot food. Call it....a parley.”

He carefully pulled his helmet off, revealing the rosy, splotchy skin of a Theelin-blooded man. A single eye stared Nero down, the other covered by a leather patch. A roguish grin came to the man's face.

“Captain Kaljak Rakham, at yer service.” He bowed, if only half-heartedly, “C'mon, lads. Time for some shore leave.”

Captain Rakham and a small retinue of his Scarlet Armada moved toward the direction of the nearest cantina in this place. The glint in Kaljak's eye offered Nero the chance to join in some misadventure, or at very least some friendliness....as one could get in shadowport of pirates.

Nero Drake ​

 

[Vreegan Fett]

Nero Drake Kaljak Rakham

Vreegan held a profound disdain for pirates, viewing them as outlaws and wanderers devoid of any clan loyalty or noble cause, driven solely by the prospect of financial gain and the chance to acquire more infamy across the galaxy not seen since the fall of the Hutt Space Consortium and the death of Gorba the Hutt. ​

​

Nevertheless, with the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders preparing to confront the Galactic Alliance over the shipyards of Kuat, there remained a chance to converse with like-minded individuals who could effectively disrupt enemy shipping within the region for a modest kick-back fee in terms of salvage rights for any technology left behind in the wreckages. ​

​

Vreegan stood on the bridge of the Kandosii Dreadnought known as the Indomitable, as it transitioned from hyperspace into realspace around Port Borgo. This shadowport functioned between the territories of the Dark Empire and the Mandalorians, currently maintaining a state of complete independence from both factions. ​

​

Sensors were already detecting activity in the various dry-docks, with pirate vessels of all shapes and sizes, including those classified as battle cruisers. These ships were likely stolen from the shipyards of major powers, where corrupt inspectors would willingly overlook such transgressions in exchange for bribes, especially given the prevailing instability in the core and expansion regions.​

​

" Field Marshal Fett - we've secured landing shuttles in the hangers for your arrival. ETA 10 minutes. " A voice emanated from the bridge, indicating the imminent departure to the port to collect intelligence regarding the resurgence of pirate activity and to ascertain that they did not pose a threat to the authority of the Mandalorian Crusaders.​

​

" Very well then - let us inform these pirates that the Age of Mand'alor the Anointed is nigh. " Vreegan replied with a composed demeanor, maintaining an air of detachment beneath the helmet. ​

​

The shuttle made its entrance at the port, accompanied by the precise hiss of the landing craft and steam cascading down the ramp, revealing figures clad in beskar armor, poised to face any adversary foolish enough to confront them.​

​

 

[Rackham]

P I E C E S_O F_E I G H T

DARK EMPIRE
PORT BORGO, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

​

Pirates. They were notorious for their acts such as cargo theft, hunting and hostage taking, roaming hyperspace lanes in search of wealth to plunder and seize for themselves. They were ambitious, bold and reckless although were unstable as pirates often betrayed each other to get ahead and make a name for themselves, making more profits in the process. While Colonel Rackham never really liked Pirates, owing to their constant criminal actions, actions that went against the Empire's desire for order, they still had value for the Empire especially when it came with dealing with their rivals of the Galactic Alliance and the Diarchy.

Already, the Empire has tested it's ability to hire and mobilize Mercenaries at Mygeeto with it's raid on the N&Z Umbrella Corporation's facilities in the area with great effect so naturally it would seek to extend it's reach across the criminal underworld, making deals and contracts that would give them new advantages in their wars against the Galactic Alliance and the Diarchy. As such when word had reached the ISB of a resurgence of pirate activity around the shadowport known as Port Borgo near the Imperial-Mandalorian Border, they did not hesitate to move quickly to investigate seeing an opportunity that could be exploited for the greater benefit for the Empire.

Thus, Colonel Rackham would head for Port Borgo with a clear singular objective : Establish contact with the Port Borgo Pirates and enlist their aid against the Alliance and Diarchy by offering them the prospect of making massive profits from raiding their hyperspace lanes. Considering the Alliance was the largest power in the galaxy controlling most of the galaxy's super-hyperspace lanes, they would make for an enticing target for the pirates, a target that they couldn't ignore.

​

Colonel Rackham stood onboard the INV Thunderer as it emerged from hyperspace arriving in proximity to Port Borgo. As the Star Destroyer adjusted itself, the sensors blared with activity as they picked up various starships of all sizes, most likely warships that had been either stolen or produced by the Pirates often utilized in their many raids across hyperspace lanes throughout the galaxy. It was an impressive collection of warships, enough to stand up to the local patrol fleets of galactic powers. However the ship that caught Rackham's attention the most was a Mandalorian Warship, although he could not tell if the Pirates had stolen it or if the Mandalorians themselves had also taken an interest in this shadowport.

"Sir, your Shuttle is ready." the main bay officer said. Rackham simply nodded and proceeded to leave the bridge headed towards the nearest hangar where a single Command Shuttle awaited the ISB Officer along with his escort of SpecNav Commandos. Once Rackham and the Commandos boarded the Shuttle it would soon depart from Star Destroyer and make it's way towards the main entrance of the shadowport, making landfall not far from the Mandalorian Shuttle.

Soon enough, the Colonel would walk out, flanked by his contingent SpecNav Commandos as the Empire would make it's presence known for the Pirates to see. Depending on how things went, the Empire might be the biggest blessing for the pirates or their worst nightmare.

Tags | Kaljak Rakham | Nero Drake | Vreegan Fett | OPEN​

 

[Nero Drake]

Kaljak Rakham Vreegan Fett Rackham ​

---

“YOU THERE!” He roared at Nero, “Seems I'm a short a bosun because yer blade.”

Drake tried to ignore the fearsome pirate and keep pushing through a crowd of scum that no longer obliged him. Rough hands shoved the accused back like a tide breaking against rocky shoals. He clutched tightly at the stolen pirate sword's hilt but a dozen hands reaching for blasters convinced Nero not to raise it in challenge.

"They call me Nero."

When Captain Rakham removed his mask to reveal a horned near-human face the new arrival did not return this favor. At first he'd worn it just in case Jonyna Si reported his description to the Coruscant authorities, but now he kept himself faceless beyond the reach of Alliance law to disguise his young age. Instead he accepted the invitation with a silent nod seeing no other alternative for survival.

Borgo's local cantina wasn't much of a landmark. Scavenged neon letters marked it as the Dead Orbit Saloon. Nero started to follow the theelin pirate when there was some kind of commotion back on the docks. He turned back around to get a better look.

"Friends of yours?" Nero asked the captain, "I don't know much about mandalorians, but that looks like an Imperial officer."

He pointed out the ISB agent descending from a lambda pattern shuttle. Drake couldn't help but wonder if there might actually be something to old pirate superstitions about bad luck befalling those who invoked the Code with duplicitous intent.

"Maybe they're here to parley."

 

[Crane Baxa]

Damn Sith...

That was all the Chadra-Fan could think as he sat on top of a nearby cargo crate, his left hand still shaking as he felt a...rage that still had not left his body. Whatever this...Seed of Rage was supposed to be, he barely got out of the station alive at the time. The nearby remains so to speak of an old Corellian Freighter, parked in a haphazard way was all that remained of his grand escapade...aside from the copious amounts of loot he had acquired from his frenzied state. Some of the sounds from those lost days still echoed in his mind...and what terrors he did to others in that time.

Six crates in all was all he could remember taking...six crates of varying degrees of Jedi Artifacts, Armor, their Lightsabers along with trinkets from on board the station of varying degrees of jewelry and metals. Raising his right hand up, he would take another long drag of a cigarra, trying to calm his mind as it was uncontrolled, doing all he could to calm himself. The nub of the cigarra would drop to the ground, the Chadra-Fan trying to grab another from his jacket several nubs were littered along the crates as he had been smoking for several hours. With him lighting the next one, he would lean his head back to let the smoke roll back into his lungs, eyes opening to just see the two kinds of people he really did not want to see right now.

Imperials and Mandalorians.

They were the last, if not the last people aside from Jedi and Sith, he would want to meet at a pirates hangout. Letting the cigarra hang from his mouth, he would lean over and make sure his crates were closed, snapping them on and buttoning up the bottom part of his small trench coat. While he wielded a lightsaber, he did not need them to find out exactly he was one of them fancy Force Users if they decided on an inspection. When the words echoed out from one of the nearby pirates, he merely could only reply one thing towards Nero Drake while still sitting on top of his stack of crates.

"Parley with them be of flamethrowers. You best hope your ships engines are warm if things go south."

Tags: Rackham Vreegan Fett Kaljak Rakham

 

[Kaljak Rakham]

Kaljak looked to the younger man, who kept his helm on. A man who did not want to reveal his face meant he was trying to hide. The Captain could respect that, and gave Nero a nod upon giving his name. Yet, before any revelry and drinking could commence between the two parties, trouble decided to rear its head once more. A retinue of Mandalorians, clad in their precious beskar, coming from one entrance to the shadowport. Not too far away from that came a more egregious sight: a man clad in the pristine whites of an ISB uniform, flanked by Imperial troopers. The Captain of the Scarlet Armada sighed, placing his helm back on. So much for warm food and grog.

“Gentlemen! Welcome to Port Borgo!” He addressed both Mando and Imp alike, “Imagine my surprise to see both of yer fine selves here.”

He walked a careful pace closer to the middle ground between the Mandalorians and the ISB agent with his special forces. This was a proverbial coaxium barrel waiting to explode. Thus, before people decided to get jumpy, he decided to take the diplomatic route first. The near-human stood, helmeted vision looking from one party to another. If he played this right, nobody would end up shot.

“I am Kaljak Rakham, of the Scarlet Armada.” He nodded to each, “An' while I can only speak on behalf of me own crew, I be sure that my fellow Borgoans would want to know what business ye each are here for.”

He looked back at young Drake, and the Chadra-Fan who piped up. He prayed to the Force that those two would not kark this up and cause a turf war right now.

“To be transparent, ye are not exactly the types who usually find themselves here.” He chose a very delegated tone, “So my question be this....be ye friendly, or foes?”

The question was to the point. The tension was still high, with his own gang having lowered weapons yet ready to whip them at the ready. Several other patrons looked uncomfortable. This is where the winds of fate would blow. Parley....or violence?

Nero Drake | Vreegan Fett | Rackham | Crane Baxa ​

 

[Jin Zarr]

If you need to get away from all your core world problems, a pirate hideaway is not a bad option.

That's what Jin thought, but the events unfolding in front of him were beginning to shake that notion. From his seat out the front of the cantina, he had a front-row seating for the collision of the Mandalorians, Imperials, and Pirates. He wasn't planning on getting involved but he did hope it would shake out peacefully. He had recognised the head pirate as Captain Rakham, a man he was interested in speaking with.

But that would come later, for now he would sit and watch.

Nero Drake Vreegan Fett Rackham Crane Baxa Kaljak Rakham

 

[Feydrik Munin]

Their presence was marked by their strength. ​

Pirates.

Privateers.

Thieves.

Killers.

Murderers.

How he loathed them. How he hated them. They disgusted him on a metaphysical level. An antithesis to their discipline, their crusade. They were righteous, they were fair, they were not cruel. Pirates-

They were everything he was taught to destroy about himself. Greedy, disloyal, pathless, and without community, without brotherhood, without honor. But even fools, beggars, liars, pariahs, were useful at times. He stood tall beside his Field Marshal, Vreegan Fett . He stared as they approached, only to be met by a pirate and his crew- introducing themselves as the Scarlet Armada.

While he talked, pontificated, eloquent and long-winded, Feydrik's helmet darted across his compatriots. Each of the pirates was marked for his Whistling Bird system.

"You stand in the presence of Field Marshal Fett, ambassador to Mandalore the Anointed. I am Rally Master Feydrik Munin. We do not come with violent intent." A slight pause, while the Mandalorians stood tall, firm, unmoving.

"If we are not met with any."

His accent was strange- offworld. But he spoke like a leader now, much more clearly than he did before. But his words were deep-laden with his capacity for violence- along with the gathered Mandalorian flock. They were warriors of old, legend. And with that reputation, came truth. And the truth being-

It was more than likely that the Mandalorians could kill everyone in this room. But Feydrik didn't want that. No, they needed this alliance, this agreement, to a degree. So peace, as vile as that word was to him, was on the table.

For the moment.

Kaljak Rakham l Crane Baxa l Nero Drake l Rackham

 

[Diodoros]

“Pirate King Dio” had a certain ring to it that the Firrerreo could appreciate. Even if plenty of fellow freebooters might consider him to be a sell out. Given that he was a privateer for the Sith. Providing Diodoros with luxuries and opportunities most pirates didn’t have access to. Right now he thought that he could do a bit of showing off. Make it known that he wasn’t some pretender. After word got out about the acquisition of his new flagship most discredited it. Finding it impossible that Diodoros could have a dreadnought in his arsenal. After all, he'd never actually been seen using it. Mainly because maintaining such a behemoth vessel was biting off more than he could chew.

First came his much smaller (and currently more practical) ship, The Liberal Harry. A reasonably sized DP20 Gunship covered with gold and black paint. Popping out of hyperspace and moving to dock with the port. Not the most impressive vessel for a “Pirate King”.

But only a moment later did his second ship follow the first’s arrival. The massive would seemingly apparate into view of the shadow port, an ancient Invincible-Class Dreadnaught. Stolen after it had been left to essentially rot away in the Corporate Sector. Practically the size of Port Borgo itself.

Diodoros would never admit this, especially to anyone here. But the ship was little more than a paper tiger. Right now it was operated by so few people that even a skeleton crew would seem cramped in comparison. As something of a showman back in Hutt Space, Diodoros was like a magician now. Maintaining an illusion of power and grandeur and not revealing the secrets behind it all.

Funny enough there seemed to be another big ship on display as well at the port. Not that Diodoros mind. He wasn’t above a bit of an immature measuring contest. It helped that his dreadnought was bigger, and far more phallic as well.

Eventually the Firrerreo privateer arrived via shuttle. Giving his jawa chauffeur a few peggats for their work. The gilded brute wore his nice long fuzzy wookie overcoat draped over his shoulders like a cape. A pair of gamorreans flanked him from behind. One of which carrying a large wooden box for Diodoros incase things got dicey here. Hopefully with enough swagger his numbers in manpower would begin to balloon. He needed it, not only to be able to properly make use of his oversized dreadnought, but he did have special plans out in the Tingle Arm…​

 

[Vreegan Fett]

Nero Drake Kaljak Rakham Diodoros Rackham Crane Baxa Jin Zarr

Vreegan held only a slight measure of respect as another shuttlecraft arrived at the Pirate Port owned by the Neo-Imperials of the Dark Empire. It was logical for them to seek refuge here, aiming to forge new alliances in their struggle against rival factions like the Diarchy. ​

​

However, he perceived them as weakened since the vanishing of their "Galactic" Emperor, having barely succeeded in repelling the Alliance at Tython. ​

​

He would not completely disregard Rackham and his SpecNav Commandos, as they would offer a degree of amusement once a confrontation inevitably ensued. ​

​

However, this contemplation was interrupted when Kaljak Rakham appeared and identified himself as a member of the Scarlet Armada. He had heard rumors of this pirate organization, yet he considered them largely minor criminals in comparison to some of the other powers within the criminal underworld. ​

​

He allowed his associate and Rally Master, Feydrik Munin , to speak on their behalf. Maintaining an air of mystery served as a means of exerting control, a strategy that the Mandalorian Crusaders had long employed to navigate the complexities of the galaxy and close their minds to the machanications of force users. ​

​

"As my vode stated - we do not intend to disrupt the bountiful activities on this station. Yet there may be opportunities for violence against more impressing targets such as the Galactic Alliance. Whose hyperspace lanes are vulnerable and patrols limited " Vreegan said. ​

​

Not wanting to allocate resources towards suppressing the pirate operations in this region, as doing so would hinder their ability to launch a large-scale assault on the shipyards near Kuat, particularly while the Sith Empire had largely diverted the attention of the New Jedi Order.​

​

 

[Xearon]

Xearon lounged back in his chair, boots propped against the scuffed edge of the sabacc table, his gaze flicking occasionally past the crowd to the port's main entryway. The dockside glowpanels cast a hazy blue pall over the smoke-laden air, catching the silhouettes of hustlers, mercs, and traders slinking through the neon-lit concourse. Above, the skeletal framework of the orbital scaffolds crisscrossed against the star-flecked void, where freighters, blockade runners, and reaver ships nestled into the mooring clamps like carrion birds waiting their turn at the feast.

Across from him, Kite, dealt with a dexterous ease, fingers gliding over the cards as though he had all the time in the galaxy. Petty wagers clinked between them, credit chits and trinkets tossed into the growing pile with a casual disinterest, the game less about winnings and more about passing time in this lawless pocket of the Outer Rim.

A low murmur of activity filled the port around them, the crackle of intercoms barking berthing instructions, the distant whir of loading droids hauling smuggled goods, the occasional burst of raucous laughter from the nearby cantina. This was a place where fortunes were made in backroom deals, where stolen cargo shifted hands before the law even caught wind of its absence.

Xearon leaned forward slightly, picking up his cards with a lazy flick of his wrist, eyes narrowing with the slightest smirk. "Your deal, unless you're planning to buy out the whole table with that charming fortune of yours."


Kite only chuckled, the dim glow of a nearby lumen catching the sharp glint of his good eye. "Patience, my dear knave. The night is young, and the deck has its secrets yet."

 

[Kite 'Lord of the Night']

Kite's keen blue eye flicked across the ebb and flow of the port's arrivals, his gaze catching on a man gilded in wealth and confidence—too much for a place like this. He was no lost noble stumbling into the wrong cantina, nor some fool who had yet to learn that riches were an invitation to be fleeced. No, this one moved like he belonged, like he expected the room to tilt in his favor.

Kite exhaled through his nose, the ghost of amusement playing at his lips as he flicked his cards closed . "A golden gundark wanders into the womp rat nest."

Xearon, slouched lazily in his chair, didn't look up from counting his winnings, but there was a knowing lilt to his voice. "And the nest stirs when the sun shines too bright."

The game had run its course, and the marks had been bled just enough; not so much as to draw too much attention, but enough that the port's less-wise pigeons would be licking their wounds for a few days. Those who lost too much and complained had quickly learned why arguing wasn't wise, especially when Xearon's muscle didn't take kindly to sore losers.

With a smooth motion, the two swept their credits and trinkets into the folds of their coats. From the corner of his eye, Kite noted the shifting tide of the port's more attentive inhabitants; men who weren't just here to drink and deal, but who watched the way a pickpocket watches for an unguarded purse. Interesting faces, interesting players.

As they sauntered toward the gathering, feigning nonchalance, Xearon rolled a cred-chip across his knuckles before flicking it into his palm with a smirk. "Happenings are afoot."

Kite hummed in agreement, his fingers grazing the hilt of a hidden blade beneath his coat. "And a wise man keeps an ace tucked up his sleeve… sometimes even in plain sight."

It would seem the King had graced them with his presence.

 

[Nero Drake]

Kaljak Rakham Vreegan Fett Rackham Crane Baxa Feydrik Munin
Diodoros Xearon Kite 'Lord of the Night' ​

---

"Parley with them be of flamethrowers. You best hope your ships engines are warm if things go south."

"Got no plans on seeing the rope's end today," Nero murmured softly back to the chadra-fan, "If it's to be swords and blasters, might be we can play one against the other."

Despite not being invited and fresh off the boat, the masked pirate recruit followed Captain Kaljak back to the docks to meet these latest recruits. He tried to emulate the theelin's confident swagger. One of the mandalorians said a lot of words an undercity street punk like Nero didn't understand but gathered was some kind of formal introduction.

"Bountiful sounds friendly enough to me," Nero's mask tilted as he studied the unspoken tension between Field Marshal Fett and this mysterious Imperial agent, "I've got a good feeling about this, cap'n!"

Relief that the mandalorians weren't here to hunt froze in his veins like ice when young Drake noticed the bronze humanoid flanked by a pair of gamorrean life wardens stepping off the latest shuttle to arrive upon a bustling port like Borgo. His mask disguised the look of shocked recognition on Nero's face but not in his voice.

"That's the Dread Pirate Diodoros!" he told Kaljak loud enough for the mandalorians and Imperials to overhear, "Legends tell the Sith have paid him a fortune to raid outer rim hyperlanes and fight in their bloodsport games."

Nero had to admit Port Borgo was living up to its reputation. Only a few hours since landing he'd killed a man and now found himself surrounded by myths and nightmares. Maybe the chadra-fan was right and this parley would end with the port in flames...or maybe the deals to be made here would mark the dawn of a new age for piracy.

 

[Rackham]

P I E C E S_O F_E I G H T

DARK EMPIRE
PORT BORGO, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

​

As the ISB Officer and his Escort made their arrival, they were approached by a group of Pirates with one particular individual stepping forward and addressing both the Imperial and Mandalorian Delegations.

“So my question be this....be ye friendly, or foes?”

"The Former" Rackham simply responded. "Like the Mandalorians, the Empire has little intention of disrupting our activities in this region of space." the Colonel explained. "Instead we seek to establish a working partnership with the Pirates of the Outer Rim, one that may prove to be beneficial to both the Empire and you Pirates, weakening the larger and more wealthier enemies of the Empire such as the Galactic Alliance while enriching you pirates in the process." he continued.

Once Rackham finished speaking, a large Invincible-Class Dreadnaught emerged from hyperspace soon launching a single Shuttle that soon made it's way towards Port Barga. The Dreadnaught was an old model, centuries old although it was still a formidable warship capable of going toe-to-toe with Star Destroyers and even smaller Battlecruisers, and Rackham knew only one major Pirate Lord who possessed such a warship at his disposal.

"That's the Dread Pirate Diodoros! Legends tell the Sith have paid him a fortune to raid outer rim hyperlanes and fight in their bloodsport games."

"Ah yes, the great Pirate King Diodoros. I've heard alot about him and clearly his reputation proceeds him." Colonel Rackham responded. "I do look forward to further conversing with him, after all there is alot of potential for deals that may benefit all of us, Mandalorian, Imperial and Pirate."

Tags | Nero Drake | Kaljak Rakham | Vreegan Fett | Diodoros | Feydrik Munin | Kite 'Lord of the Night' | Crane Baxa | Xearon | Jin Zarr | OPEN​

 

[Toby Russen]

Port Borgo
Tags: Nero Drake , Diodoros , Kite 'Lord of the Night' , Vreegan Fett , Feydrik Munin , Kaljak Rakham , Crane Baxa , Xearon , Rackham

Disguise​

"That's the Dread Pirate Diodoros!" he told Kaljak loud enough for the mandalorians and Imperials to overhear, "Legends tell the Sith have paid him a fortune to raid outer rim hyperlanes and fight in their bloodsport games."

The king in the flesh.

Toby grinned beneath his helmet, taking in the site of the gathering he had found himself amidst. This was a jackpot of information, the sorts of stuff any investigator would probably kill to get their hands on. From the words of Colonel Rackham of the Dark Empire, it seemed they were looking towards some sort of mutual alliance between the pirates, Mandalorians, and Empire. The lore here was juicier than a steak cooked rare.

But Diodoros? He was the grand prize. A perfect opportunity to observe his patterns. After all, Mr. Nine was in the business of putting his boys away in brigs across the Rim. He needed every last detail he could scrounge up.

"I's ain't likin' these proper folk roun' here," the Devaronian pirate beside him grumbled, clearly itching to attack the imperial. "We should just blast'm an' git th'feth on wit business."

"Don't be a moron," Toby remarked.

The Umbaran lifted up his helmet a little removing the lollipop from his mouth and sticking it to the pirate's bald head.

"A dent head like you's gonna wind up killin' a good deal," he scoffed. "Grow some blasted braincells."

"Oi! What th'feth!"

The Devaronian began frantically trying to remove the lollipop from his head, far too distracted by the unwanted accessory to start swinging just yet. Toby wasn't worried. He'd just shoot the guy if he tried to start a fight. It was pretty normal around these parts. He'd keep his cover for now, just to see if he could glean anything else from this encounter...

 

[Kite 'Lord of the Night']

Nero Drake


Kite materialized out of the shadows and swung an arm around Nero's shoulders with a wide grin, practically bouncing with excitement.

"Aye, ye can bet yer arse on that one, mate!" Kite said, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm. "Not only did he do that—but ye wouldn't believe the stories! One time, the man single-handedly held off a whole fleet of bounty hunters, and they say he even laughed while doing it." His eyes sparkled, his grin beneath the mask turning sly as he leaned in closer. "Oh, and ye know how they say he's got the strength of a Rancor? Well, what they don't tell ye is how the man practically heals with a glance. Some say he's got a deal with the devil himself! Some call them legends but I says they are true. " Kite's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, though it was clear he was enjoying the theatrics as he leaned in briefly.

He stepped back, his energy surging again as he threw his arms wide. "But hey, a strong back like yours might be just what the king himself needs! So what d'ye say, eh? Care to set course with Diodoros? Can I say yer welcome aboard? We're all gonna make a name for ourselves with him leading the charge!"

Kite's grin was pure mischief, his whole body alive as she shot the look.

"Ah, ye see, the king himself, Diodoros, is always on the lookout for fresh blood to add to the crew." He gave Nero a playful shove with his shoulder, "How about it, mate? Care to make yer fate and fortune with the best of the best?"

He winked, his tone shifting to something more persuasive, almost coaxing- or was that a blink? "With Diodoros, it's all share and share alike. Power, riches, glory—all of it's up for grabs if ye're willing to play the game. And trust me, ye don't want to miss out on this one. This is the kind of crew that makes legends. Fortune favors the bold, my friend. Join up, and let's make history together!"