Private A Pirate With A Voice And Purr-Ates, Ahoy!

[Sag'etare Baracco]

Spoiler: Music OOC

“They’re gonna hang me in the mornin’...”

It was a somber voice, baritone, slow and rhythmic, if fitted with a bit of a depressive. Or did it just drip with indifference? It was hard to tell from his cell. The listener couldn’t see the face of the singer. How O so dreadful though.

“A’fore the night is done…”

It wasn’t a bad sing, it wasn’t a bad song, it just wasn’t his cup of tea given they were in a ship where they didn’t belong. So, on that note, the lyrics did fit the occasion—but why be so blatantly morbid?

“They’re gonna hang me in the mornin’...”

They were the crew of the Endless Song, a pirate ship and freighter, but the ship they were on was another bigger pirate ship, the Filthy Beast, a corvette, and the members of the former had become passengers of the latter, only their quarters were little more than the brig.

“And I'll never see the sun…”

Right. That’s it. I’ve heard enough. “Oh will you shut up with it?” The listener offered, one in a number scattered across private cells. No, commanded, given he was the captain of this imprisoned pirate outfit.

Captain Sage, they call him, though Sag’etare Baracco was his full name. The Zabrak rested on his bed, or some sorry excuse for one, arms behind his head, gazing at a ceiling that was as suspiciously depressing as his companion’s singing. “Sing something with a little more bounce to it.”

“Aye aye, captain." There was a moment. "I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts! There they are standing in a row! Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head! Give ‘em a twist! A flick of the wrist!”

“THAT’S IT.” At that, Sage clapped his hands in forfeit, got off his bed, stood before the force field of his prison. He wasn’t naked, had his outfit, but his beastly captors had deprived him of his instruments: weapons, violin, even coin included. “I’m taking over.” He still had his voice.

“If I had a heart, I could love you…”

The Beast had since ambushed the Song like a bat out of hell and who knew what happened to Captain Sage’s ship? His enemy was a makeshift family of Trandoshans, Weequay and Barabels. Unlike their captives, the captors had no essence of life, never mind their element of surprise. They were dry. Lifeless.

“If I had a voice, I would sing…”

“Sounds a wee bit depressing too, me thinks, cap’n,” some other crewman shouted.

“After the night, when I wake up…”

Sage sang anyway, unable to be interrupted, for he knew his lyrics dripped with truth. They weren’t so melancholic.

“I'll see what tomorrow brings…”

He had confidence. He was in prison but he still had a position within this void of a universe. You're gonna get yours. A due punishment. Surely, someone would rescue him and his, even unwittingly. There was a chance, even without a coin flip.

Sorr Kortu Alora Kamari

 

[Sorr Kortu]

Location: Tiaza's Purr, somewhere in the Kessel Sector


Smuggler Outfit

It didn't take long for Alora to get acclimated to the Tiaza's Purr, already her room was practically a garden of flowers to the point where the entire ship smelled like fresh cut flowers. It was a stimulating change from before which often smelled like rusted metal and Coffee. Alora also created some sort of gauntlet that according to her will heal Sorr and the rest of the crew of the Tiaza's Purr. She expressed a desire to explore and help out in any way she can even though she preferred garden rather than fight. In the world of Smuggling however, fighting is just as common as breathing. Despite the common saying that: "The best Smugglers are the ones who don't get caught." In today's Galaxy, there are plenty of factions and other Smugglers with advanced tech that can and will intercept you. Best be prepared for a fight.

Sorr held Alora's Blaster Pistol, the small weapon fitting into the palm of his hands. She'll need to learn how to fire the weapon before going into Smuggling jobs with the rest of the crew. It was only her and Sorr in the ship since the rest were taking care their own personal dealings. Sorr himself was taking a small break from doing multiple jobs. The young man strode through the hallway approaching Alora's room taking a deep breath. "Hey Alora!" Sorr's knuckles gently tapped the metal door. "Are you all right? Can I come in? I got something for you?"

Alora Kamari

 

[Alora Kamari]

⠀⠀

Sorr Kortu | Sag'etare Baracco​

Her mother loved the small garden, tending to it often and ensuring its survival as if it were her child. There had been multiple stories behind its creation, like her father had helped make the little patch bloom, and it was a fond memory of a relationship cut short. The other story was almost similar; Alora's mother had made the garden in memory of her late husband. Alora believes that no matter the reason, it involves her mother's love for Alora's father. It's probably why it was constantly in bloom, an envy amongst the small village.

Within her room, Alora recreated a smaller version of the garden from back home. The flowers were tended and loved, and the herbs were left to mingle and roam; she tried to have a proper mix of things in case they needed to season a soup or tend to a wound.

"Come in!" she yelled, the doors opening on command to allow her guest entrance.

Sorr would step into a different world. Various vases filled with flowers and greenery freckled her room; crystals of varying sizes glowed randomly through the space, creating a comforting mood. Off to his right, he would see her garden rife with blooming pink florals that had a strange golden glow about them. She's created a warm space often visited when the crew needs a place to rest away from their worries and trials.

"Hello, Sorr," a broad smile painted her face upon her approach. She had been tending to a wild-looking plant at the base of her garden when he knocked and entered. The last few days have been quiet and productive on her end; who knows when she'll have to leave behind her little sanctuary. Any moment of freedom is filled with caring for her little creations. "What brings you here?" she asked, standing to her feet and swiping at the dirt across her knees.

"Hopefully, not trouble." It came as a tease. Sorr had a way of tempting trouble in the most peculiar ways. "I'm not dressed for the occasion." No longer a slave, Alora has opted for a more comfortable outfit of a billowy top and fitted pants paired with boots to her knees. She wore belts equipped with different devices most of the time, but today, she did not.

"What did you bring me today?"

 

[Sag'etare Baracco]

Spoiler: Music OOC (Recurring)

“Crushed and filled with all I found
Underneath and inside, just to come around.”

The man sang, there in his cell, behind a barrier of energy as pink as it was pretty. Hues of magenta blended with fuchsia, mixed with razzle dazzle rose. He was no color aficionado but he had little else to peel his eyes at as he stood behind that force field.

“More, give me more, give me more.”

Sage closed his eyes, a lone finger tracing imaginary lines just behind the burning barrier, as if it was a wall that would soon fall.

“Ahhh ah-ah-ahhhh ah-ah-ahhh.”

His voice was joined by the other singer’s.

“Ahhh ah-ah-ahhhh ah-ah-ahhh.”

And two voices were rewarded with another.

“Ahhh ah-ah-ahhhh ah-ah-ahhh.”

And then everyone sang at once—together.

“If I had a voice, I would sing.”

And the Captain of the Endless Song flipped an imaginary coin. Heads? He opened his eyes, opened his palm, watched as it landed in emptiness. Tails.

“I have good news, crewmen.” Sage smiled wide, brushing a long lock of hair away from his face. “The great river of time and space flows our way. We will not die today.”

“HOORAY!”
“YAY!”
“Wait…what about tomorrow?”

“I…” Sage scratched his nose. “...Dunno.”

“HEY!” Called a Weequay. The guard walked across the corridor of hell toward Sage’s cell. “No lollygaggin’!”

Sage scratched his head. Apparently he was itchy. “I’m in a jail cell. What else is there to do but dawdle and idle, Sir Guardian?”

“NO TALKIN’!” The Weequay slammed his vibro-voulge against the wall. “OR I’LL HAVE YER INNARDS FER SUPPER!”

With salt and pepper, I hope. Sage sighed, and wondered. “On that note, will we be getting any breakfast, at least? Please?” He rubbed his stomach. "It feels like I haven't eaten for weeks, and my last meal was bean paste with a pea taste."

Sorr Kortu Alora Kamari

 

[Smuggling Crew NPC]

(OOC: Somewhere in Wild Space, aboard the large Pirate Ship: The Meeseeks)


"AYY!" A booming voice howled through the hall way accompanied by loud thumping steps which became louder as he went closer towards Sag'etare Baracco . A Dowtun stormed in front of Sage's cell his rough orange face tinted with a dark red hue glowering at the Zabarak looking as angry as a Gundark. "Why are you continuing to fill this hall with infernal singing?!" the Dowtun slammed his large, boulder like fist onto the metal door, the door briefly vibrated with the hinges nearly flying off. When he let go, there was small dent left.

"If you don't shut the frack up!" The Dowtun growled. "I'm going to drag your horned ass out of that cell, and will you kick you in your fracking mouth so hard that you'll tasting the chit that grows between my toes!"

"Hey Snaak!" A voice called out from the intercom. "Stop flapping your yap and bring the prisoner to me! I wanna give him an offer that he can't refuse."

"If he refuses can I kill him?" Snaak asked his tone laced with eagerness as he reached for the large Vibroblade that was slung over his shoulders.

"Frack no!" The man said. "I'm the one doing the killings around here not you clayface! Now take him to me!"

"Yes sir," Snaak opened the door and immediately placed shackles around Sage's wrists. "If you even utter a syllable!" Snaak muttered. "I'll rip your fracking tongue out. Boss didn't say that I can't maim ya a bit!"

 

[Sorr Kortu]

"Well since you're still new," Sorr said to Alora smiling. "I figured I teach you a thing or two about how to shoot. We have a tendency to attract trouble so it's best that you know how to defend yourself Alora. Even though you're the type of person who tries to avoid violence."

So did Sorr but everytime he tries to get out of a situation, it always ends in a gunfight. Brinna Dara would say he was born with Smuggler's luck. Hah! If anything, Sorr had the luck of a man who saw a pack of black cats. He handed the blaster pistol towards Alora making sure that the handle stuck out so she can safely grab it. "Take it," Sorr said. "It's your personal blaster pistol, I calibrated myself to make it powerful but also safe to use since it'll be your first time."

He turned to the gauntlet that was lying next to a bed of flowers. "So what's this?" Sorr said. "Is that some sort of device you made? It looks neat!"

Alora Kamari

 

[Sag'etare Baracco]

Spoiler: Music OOC

Filthy Beast. The Meeseeks. Truthfully Sage couldn’t remember the name of this pirate ship that wasn’t his but which kept him captive. All he really wanted at that moment was a dish to fill his stomach—provided it didn’t consist of rodent droppings, though he’d settle for porridge.

Trade a Weequay’s face for a Dowutun’s. His species generally looked as mean and menacing as a Herglic with a penchant for murdering. Infernal singing? Did Sage just hear him right? Is that what this buffoon actually considered the chorus to be!? I can’t even believe it.

“We’re a choir.” Sage shrugged innocently at the question. “If we don’t practice singing then, really, what kind of a choir would we be?” Did his lips drip with sarcasm? Probably.

Yet even an idiot ought to appreciate a good song. Then again, these pirates were…idiots. Chit that grows between toes? Gross. Queue a loose hinge or two, though, and the captive pirate was beginning to think that he might just sneak his way out of this past the force field and the metal door.

No need of it. Entrance opens. Shackles come on the wrists of the Captain of the Endless Song in this pirate ship that isn’t his. Thank the stars. This lot reeks of piss. So, someone above Snack wanted Sage with his face intact, is it?

Then came the threat over uttering a single syllable. “Okay,” Sage shrugged. Wait, that was two syllables, wasn’t it? Hey. “Boss wants to give me an offer which means I’ll need to speak to offer a response in return.”

Sage took note of the Weequay to the left of the Dowutun who was suddenly distracted by the ceiling as if it was his best friend. “Lead the way,” Sage beckoned, further noticing that these shackles could be broken in the middle with a swift and decisive strike from a blade—if the occasion came to it. “You lead, amigo, and I shall follow.” He grinned.

Smuggling Crew NPC

 

[Alora Kamari]

⠀⠀

Sorr Kortu​

"You have a willing student."

Her choice of protection came in the shape of a staff. She's somewhat helpful when it comes to protecting herself. Life as a woman left alone forces one to be on high alert while trying to stay under the radar. There had been a few too many times when someone got handsy or mouthy with her. Fed up, she had made it a goal to take up some type of weapon, that weapon being a staff given to her by an unknown traveler. He taught her, she learned, then he left.

Blinking away the memory, Alora looked at the blaster before taking it. It felt odd in her hand; this was her first time handling such a weapon. Back home, you rarely saw these types of weapons, as their worth was more than what most could afford. Archaic or barbaric weaponry, such as wooden staffs and swords and other such things, were more prominent as anyone could make them with materials that wouldn't eat a hole in your pocket. Lastwall had that kind of rough charm you read about in long-way stories young women kick their feet at and giggle.

"It is neat! Here, let me show you," she gently put away the blaster in one of the many empty belts thrown around her waist.

"I think I got it how I like it." She slipped the gauntlet on and began to glow and hum upon making a fist. "This will come in handy - pun intended." The gauntlet was active; around the wrist, golden petals opened up, and a slight hum came from her palm. "Now for the fun part," she said, extending her arm before her.

A pink flower with a soft, golden hue appeared in her hand. It was small and closed, not yet blooming. "I know I'm more use as a supporter, so I want to do just that." Widening her fingers, the flower opened up and was completely illuminated. "If I see any crew needing a pick-me-up, I can use this. Watch," she stepped away from Sorr to throw the flower at his feet. He would feel a warmth cascade across his body, easing any recent aches and woes that may have plagued him.

"What do you think?"

 

[Smuggling Crew NPC]

"Stop talking!" Snaak growled shoving Sage forward. "Otherwise, I'll do to you what I did to your crewman!" Snaak pointed his sharp finger towards the flayed man that was tied to a chair. Large pools of blood surrounded him as more blood dripped from his exposed muscle tissue. "Had a fun time carving that chit head up!" Snaak snarled. "I don't know why the boss wants you alive but me and my people had a hell of a good time carving your people up slowly and painfully!"

After about an hour of walking across the large halls of the ship, the group approached the bridge. It was dirty, rusted mess filled with spikes that protruded from the metal walls. Across from Sage was a light blue skinned Partorean, his white hair just as spiky as the ones on the wall his knobbly knees crossing over one another as he leaned back on his chair. "So, it's the infamous Sage!" The Pateorian said as the mercenaries surrounding his throne raised their weapons towards the Zabrak. "Bring him to his knees Snaak."

"With pleasure Captain Osor."

Snaak kicked Sage in the back of the knee forcing him down. "You see Sage." Nurr said a simpering smile forming across his face. "I've destroyed your ship and killed your crew with a deep satisfaction I might add! So why don't you actually start talking and tell me where you hid the trillion credits?!"

Sag'etare Baracco

 

[Sorr Kortu]

Alora didn't seem to mind being part of a Smuggling crew, every day she would poke and prod crew members, asking them questions about how the ship worked and what she can do to help. In many ways, Alora was like Sorr: They both came from a privileged background, and they were essentially fish out of water in the dangerous place known as the criminal underworld. Yet, they keep trying to adjust to the harsh realities and make as many connections as possible. At least Alora doesn't have the burden of being a Captain, Sorr was still learning on how to be a leader and to say that he had setbacks would be a major understatement.

Sorr was lost in thought when Alora released a small glowing flower towards him. Sorr blinked as the object dissipated as soon as it connected to his chest. He immediately felt a warm and relaxing sensation slowly spreading across his body. His sore shoulder which was caused when Sorr accidentally bumped into some power converters while he was fixing the Hyperdrive immediately went away as if Sorr never injured it. "Oh man!" Sorr exclaimed rolling his shoulder. "I feel invigorated! My shoulder was killing me all day I thought I would be in pain forever!"

He gave Alora a wide smile. "Thanks Alora!" Sorr said walking towards the young woman and gently patting her shoulder. "You're already a valuable member of the team! Now come on! Let's take you to shooting range!"

A few minutes a later, Sorr arrived at the lounge and entered through a door located in the far left corner. "Right," Sorr said pulling out his Blaster Pistol. "Let's start with basics, be sure that your weapon's safety is on."

Alora Kamari

 

[Sag'etare Baracco]

Spoiler: Music OOC

Sage fought back a comment as he was shoved forward after being ordered to stop talking. Oh, he had a million many more insults for this dim-witted skull as before. After all, the Weequay couldn’t exactly take his tongue if it was needed by his captain.

You’ll what? The captive captain snickered at the threat of his captor as to what will be done to him. You’ll piss in my boots? They had passed the filled prison cells with the breathing, singing crew of the Endless Song, to whom their captain promised to be strong, and stopped farther down the corridor.

That is when the Weequay pointed toward another chamber. Oh. Sage just stood there, staring into the room whose door no longer covered, and had earlier hid the screams from the victim’s companions. So that is what became of you, Maldred the Blue. Him, and others too.

Suddenly this whole situation just went from a bad joke at Snaak’s expense to something a bit more twisted and serious. I will avenge you. Sage didn’t make a move, didn’t flinch, didn’t blink, but bit his lip. I promise.

He kept his breath. He held his tongue. He knew better than to mouth off at this point, and he needed his voice when in the presence of the captain of this ship. Finally, Sage arrived. To be honest, he could pin the spikes for a pirate’s kind of life but not quite the captain’s skin. Human? Pantoran?

Infamous. Sage stifled a grin. And you’re the shithead captain who I— He was brought to his knees just then. On the floor, hands bound, it was all he could do to look Captain Osor right in the eye.

Killed my crew. Destroyed my ship. He didn’t flinch. My men. My women. My song. Didn’t blink. And now he wants to know where the hidden treasure is…

“Somewhere you’ll never find it,” Sage promised. “Not with the greatest navigator this side of space, not with the time of the biggest and fastest ships, not with the wisdom of a thousand sages, and if you think you can pry it from my lips before they go cold and bloody from all your flaying…”

Sage shrugged, and finally smiled. “Well…my predecessors didn’t give you what you wanted, and a good captain keeps no secrets, so have at it.”

Whatever happened next, revenge, in the end, would be his.

Sorr Kortu Alora Kamari