[[ Uh, the abandoned mining station is just an abandoned mining station. No living areas. It isn't a Death Watch hideout. Also, sorry for the late response. Got caught up in Roche. ]]
"Captain Ironwolf, I am pleased you could attend." Tyrin said, ecstatic that another one of the major players had arrived. Perhaps there was some hope for this little meeting after all. He shook the captain's hand, and was prepared to introduce him to the others present, and greet the man who appeared to be Ironwolf's lieutenant, when RC made his appearance. Well and good, it was probably about time the meeting got underway. They had waited long enough, after all.
"Yes, I suppose now is as good a time to start our meeting as any. Follow me, gentlemen." Tyrin beckoned, leading them through a scorched and mangled corridor to his makeshift meeting chambers.
The meeting room was spartan, to say the least. A half-circle table with enough chairs for the current attendees and anyone else who might show up. Before the table sat a pedestal upon which a barely functioning holoprojector was seated. The image of the Tortuga station flickered rapidly, and small sparks occasionally shot out the right panel of the device. This was the same holoprojector that had been on Raxus Prime, in the buried frigate. Tyrin had brought it here instead of purchasing a new one. "Frugality is a virtue," his adoptive "father" had always said. Seemingly from nowhere, Tyrin produced the holoprojector's corresponding remote. He slid to the front of the room, standing next to the holoprojector.
"Now, to those pirates attending, congratulations. You are about to bare witness to a deal that your peers will be begging to be let in on in the future." Tyrin said, giving the holoprojector a light smack. The image stabilized after that, and the sparks ceased.
"As I'm sure you're aware, Tortuga station opened up fairly recently. A grand station it is, the sole sanctuary for pirates throughout the Galaxy, I'm told. It is a marvelous station, but I can't help but feel that it is... Limited. While it is a very big station, there will only be so many markets to sell your plunder, only so many hangars to dock and make repairs. Limiting: just as most giant hunks of floating metal in space are."
Tyrin clicked the remote, and the image appeared to zoom out, now showing a picture of Hutt Space.
"I've heard rumor the Hutts give you free reign to move about their space as you see fit. Very kind of them, but how much space is Hutt space? It's very small and very crowded. This is not to offend the Hutts. I intend on speaking to them as well, but that is for a later date. The point is, while you do have access to a good assortment of planets to hang around, it isn't that good. Hutt space is also fairly far from those juicy Republic and Imperial trade ships. So what if you were able to go somewhere else?"
Another click of the remote and the image panned to a view of Mandalorian space- all the planets it encompassed with the names written neatly under them.
"I am sure you are all familiar with the Death Watch, of which I am affiliated. If not, I won't be terribly offended. We are a new force in the Galaxy, but we are gathering strength quickly. We in the Death Watch are seeking to change things. By which I mean, we intend to weaken the current Mandalore's regime, remove her, bring our leader in as the new Mandalore, and construct a new regime from the ground up. Have any of you heard the current Mandalore's stance on pirates? Dreadful stuff, completely irrational. The Death Watch, you will find, are much more reasonable."
"The deal is simple. The Death Watch would like to encourage pirate activity in Mandalorian space. For every Mandalorian trade ship you raid, capture, destroy we will pay you. For every wound inflicted on the current regime, we will also pay you. Why? Because it demonstrates weakness. If Mandalore can't deal with pirates, raiders, and marauders, how can she be expected to deal with the Sith? The Republic? Or those weird folk just the other side of Republic space? Omega-something-something. I don't pay them much mind, frankly."
"In essence, we will be paying you to disrupt Mandalorian shipping. When you make a successful raid, we will pay you proportionately to the amount that you raided. Then you keep your plunder. I honestly don't believe I need to sugar coat that. We are paying you to do what you've all been doing for a fairly long time. This, of course, isn't the best part of the deal."
"Once we assume control of Mandalorian space, you will be given free run of our planets. Every single planet you see before you will be your own Tortuga station. You will all have your own personal sanctuary between the Empire and the Republic, from which to launch raids at your leisure. Further, for ten standard years following our victory, any repairs or modifications you need will be covered by us, so long as they take place at a planet we control. Our markets will be open to you as well."
"In return for all this, we will ask only one thing. Should it come down to a final assault on the planet Mandalore, we would ask your support. Then, following our victory, you would be free to run amok Mandalorian space as previously described. As expected, you won't target any Mandalorian shipping any more, but from such a lofty chunk of space to rest and be secure from regulators, it will hardly matter."
Tyrin coughed into his hand. A strange gesture, considering his mask. "Of course, as a Sith, I am obligated to say that you should only raid Republic shipping following our victory, and completely abstain from raids against Imperial vessels and stations. But that's just me. You are pirates, after all, and in the end such a decision is yours and yours alone."
"Any questions? If elaboration is needed, one needs to only ask."
