Drinks with the Golden Rancor Company

[Ryss Ankarr]

Tattooine
Javaas the One Eyed Hutt's Pleasure Palace
Portend's Edge Bar
Scene Music

​

[member="Jansal Corego"] [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"] [member="Ishana Pavanos"] [member="Ghorua the Shark"]

"It's yours now, do what you want with it."

The words of old man Kragg echoed around in the head of Ryss Ankarr. She couldn't fathom why she was its heir. Long ago, when she was but a kid lost in space - it was Kragg who found her and raised her within the ranks of the mercenary group the Golden Rancor. A name that once meant something, but, she left to spread out into the smuggler and bounty hunter business it had fallen into disrepute. Maybe it was nostalgia? Maybe it was what was left of her sense of honour? But, here she was seated in a back booth of Javaas's pleasure palace at one of the bars, called the Portend's Edge, awaiting to see who would heed the call of recruits. She was either crazy, stupid or both - but, she tightened her fist around the coin that was a sigil of the company in her palm. She'd rebuild it and send it across the galaxy to regain the name it lost.

Now she just had to find folks who were crazy enough to join her.

A Zeltron male prostitute whom she had gained as a personal lover came sauntering next to her. He leaned over and let his neon pink skin rub against hers. Ryss was slouched over the booth cushions wearing a tight form black leather trousers with red stripes down the sides and a blue button up shirt underneath a black jacket. The Zeltron looked at her and poked her cheek with his index finger. With his finger still in her cheek Ryss turned to face her old confidant and lover with a cocked eyebrow and wrinkled grin.

"You look preoccupied dear." the Zeltron joked.

"I am, beat it." Ryss joked back.

With a sly play of his fingers down the opening of her shirt he hissed at her, "Say that again and I may never come back."

"Fair enough."she said

Displeased the Zeltron straightened up and dropped the sexual pretence and sat beside his most loved customer with two drinks in his hands. "You really are somewhere else today huh?"

"Its about Kragg." Ryss said, having for once a serious look in her face. "I just can't help but, feel I'm not cut out to lead this company, Zath."

"Listen to me babe. I know you. You're a lot of things, but, a coward or an idiot is not one of those things. This Kragg guy and the Golden Rancor mean a lot to you, do they? Zath said.

Ryss nodded and thumbed the image of a rancor skull on the coin that Kragg had left her.

"Then do it. If you care, then do it." Zath smiled while rubbing Ryss's shoulder. Ryss cracked a grin and flipped the coin into the air and caught it. She tucked the coin away and then suddenly lunged at Zath placing her lips on his for a quick smooch. A bar maiden interrupted their moment, "Ryss hun, your recruits are here."

Ryss pulled away from Zath and gave the bar maid the go ahead to show them to her booth. Zath stood up and taking his drink turned away to leave his love to her work, but not before he felt Ryss's hand smack across his butt.

"There's plenty more where that came from once I'm done" she said with a wink. Zath shot her a suggestive look and then walked off. Ryss cocked her head as he watched him leave. Then her whimsical grin died and a stern look crossed her face.

"Don't worry old man." Ryss whispered to herself. "I'll make the company a legend again."

 

[Jansal Corego]

[member="Ryss Ankarr"]

This place felt sleazy, to say the least; filthy, where the lonely went to die - to him, it was the drudge of society. The fact it was ultimately owned by Hutt did little to undermine his predetermined bias towards the pleasure palace, neigh, it sunk that ship like cannon fire; he didn't even perform the common courtesy of removing what heavy armor barred his flesh from the world, to expose himself in honest identity. His distaste was so strong it manifested in an amalgamated disease of contact, one which lingered in this place; he felt far more comfortable trudging about through the place in heavy armor than he would in a battlefield. Of course, this earned a few wandering gazes from patrons and employees alike, for this was a place to do the exact opposite; still, he cared little - he was here on business, a venture between additional business. He needed credits, he intended to earn them; this was one more brick in the wall, as far as he was concerned - so long as the pay remained un-eclipsed by that he was now used to.

There she was, smooching up some gigolo; he supposed women were not at all that far different than men, it could only lead him to wonder where such stereotypes came from. Equally broken, he mused; though, he supposed, there were some exceptions. So far, however, his respect remained tied to coin, and nothing more; though his ominous presence seemed to radiate through the rather soft environment - where lovers expressed their intent in booths, or sought each other out - he was a walking wall of artillery. Any approaching escorts were quick to scuttle out of his path post-approach, when to realization dawned on them that, no, this was probably not a customer; he practically breathed bounty hunter - the only way he could be more obvious in his craft, short of the beskar'gam he wore, was perhaps if he had marched in, one hand pounding a drum, the other firing shots into the crowd while he shouted, "Hey, look at me - I'm the last person you'd want to be in here!" With that thought came a chuckle, and a very serious realization that, sooner or later, security might try to remove him. He'd have to make this quick.

"Ryss Ankar?" he inquired, approaching the table; his posture stiff, unrelaxed - it helped hide his distaste, he figured, as well as the overwhelming discomfort that came with prolonged wear. He'd have to wear this even longer, if this didn't keep up - he had a job set up halfway across the Galaxy, once this was established. He wasn't one to idly chat about such things though, for this was also based on business; he'd rather their minds didn't wander. Her lover, speaking of which, he noted, might be an additional unwelcome distraction; he'd better do his best to keep their attention fixated. He placed a hand on the butt of his rifle, oddly sheathed at his side, like one would a pistol, despite its bulky body; the stock extender out, like the haft of a longsword, spilling out at an angle, held royally by his own hand as support. "My name is Jansal Corego, here about the offer for recruitment." He was only human, hardly towering over the pair, but he was stalwartly built and encased in Mandalorian plate. However, he seemed more inclined to ask questions than answer them: "Do you have experience leading a mercenary band of this caliber?"

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

LOCATION: TATOOINE, THE PLEASURE PALACE
EQUIPMENT: IN BIO
CURRENT MOOD: IRRITATED

Thump. Thump. Thump.

All in the establishment could here the cascading booming of something, but most assumed it was the heavy bass of a nearby cantina. The sound was persistent, a constant rumbling of pure force. Light glasses vibrated on tables, their contents rippling. But as the dull thumping slowly grew louder, and the cups shook more violently, patrons began to take notice. They looked up from their various tasks and pleasures to identify the noise, but all they saw were each other. Eventually, the thumping came to a stop. The people, thinking the disturbance was over, went back to their games and drinks.

The door to Portend's Edge opened to reveal quite the sight; the lower body of an immensely-large being, plated in a thick matte-black armor. Ghorua the Shark crouched to enter the doorway, having to squeeze to fit through the entrance, standing up to full height again when he found his way in. The Herglic was impossibly tall, thick black Koodan-class armor protecting his girth. Ten feet off of the ground, pitless void-like eyes surveyed the area. Under the two black orbs, rows and rows of serrated teeth curled back into a strangely warm smile.

Ghorua had always felt at home in cantinas. Perhaps it was due to the drink, or the people that resided in them. The sight of Tatooine's bars having little or no difference to the ones he was used to was a good sign. Perhaps he could eventually learn to love this planet. Not in the near-future, but eventually.

The 10'5'' genetically-modified hunter plodded into the room, each foot shaking the ground slightly. Men and women looked up at him in awe, or fear, or a mix of both. He walked forward until he came to the table he was directed to, where he crossed his arms at the sight. A Mando, a woman, and a whale met in a Tatooine cantina; sounded like the beginning of a terrible joke.

While Jansal didn't tower over the two sitting forms, Ghorua certainly did. Pearly white teeth grinned over the table, as a dark, smooth, impossibly low voice washed over them all. "Good day, everyone. Quite the meet-up spot you picked here. I like it. It screams professional." Rumbling laughter could be heard, smooth like honey. "You all can call me Ghorua the Shark. I heard you were looking for a team?"

- [member="Jansal Corego"] - [member="Ryss Ankarr"] -

 

[Zef Halo]

The Wolf of Myrkr had certainly not grown up as most of his peers had. Spending more than half of his life on Felucia and the other half on Myrkr, Varian was not used to common codes of conduct and exemplary behavior. This was noted in his primitive leathery and duraplast 'armor' with no helmet, he had dropped his Mandalorian attire for this. The little conversations Varian had with his father was that Hutt palaces were not a place to relax. Having the helmet on would probably prove more of a hassle for him than a help, staying with Mandalorian armor and without a helmet was not a good idea, according to his father.

With the beskad and rancor bone blade sheathed on his back, the Wolf of Myrkr made his way through the crowded bar towards where the supposed meeting of this 'company' was. Varian felt the looks on him due to his barbaric attire and looks. His hair style and beard were not something common at all in this wide, wide galaxy.

The Mandalorian soon approached where the troupe was apparently gathering - a young lady, an excessively large tank-man, and a Mandalorian. Varian took a few steps to the side, positioning himself a bit further from the rest but still in talking distance. A survivalist's habit.

"Greetings. The company, I presume ?" Varian spoke calmly. He would acknowledge his Mandalorian heritage to the other Mandalorian when he felt the time was right.

He awaited the company's acknowledgements. Joining this company for the meanwhile would be of great experience to him, it would open so many opportunities for him to fill his compendium. The sponsorship from Mara D'Lessio Merrill was certainly quite helpful on top of this.

[member="Ghorua the Shark"] [member="Jansal Corego"] [member="Ryss Ankarr"]

 

[Ryss Ankarr]

[member="Jansal Corego"]

A scary armoured looking Mandalorian marched up to her booth. Ryss looked up at him with a straight look. Yellow eyes studied him, eyes that had her catch the nickname "snake eyes" around the palace. His gruff inquiry began with a demanding question. Ryss leaned forward, placing her crossed hands on the table. Mando's were straight forward bunch and sticklers for cutting to the chase. Best not play words with such a warrior.

She smiled and shook her head. "No." Ryss then stared at her fingers as she rubbed the thumb and index finger that were holding the golden rancor coin. "But, I was apart of it. Back when. The old man who used to run the gig once told me, 'no man leads a company, a company leads the company'. You look like you know your way around a battlefield. If you were to join then I would have to change my answer - yes, yes we do. We have lead a company of this calibre before."

Ryss feeling like she needed a charm to help her guide negotiations retrieved the golden rancor coin from her pocket and she slammed it rancor skull head up on the table. "I may be a scoundrel, but I know my way around blasters and debts."

"Old man saved my life, so I must repay his debt and rebuild is company." Ryss said in a low retort. She said nothing afterwards. No need to go on, the warrior would make up his mind soon enough.

Their showdown however, was interrupted by the entrance of a boisterous monster of a man beast and a reserved well spoken warrior coming up behind the Mandalorian.

[member="Varian of Myrkr"] [member="Ghorua the Shark"]

Ryss eyed the new comers, snake eyes watching with precision and intent. She then eyed everyone who had showed so far.

A steel encased mandalorian with what seemed a personality as sharp as the steel he wore, a battle tank with the heart of a man and the form a beast and a mysterious warrior with calm word but, ambition in his look.

Ryss smiled.

"Aye, this is the Golden Rancor, once the force of a one Dalos Kragg. This company has fought in wars I wasn't even born to remember. But, this company was that man's life and when I was young, when I tended to his blasters and accompanied him into conflict I made my promise to uphold his legacy when he passed on."

"And now I am repaying what is owed - just like our motto ' Our Word Is As Good As Gold'."

"Can't guarantee credits now. But, with the name this company once had and a galaxy out there full of battle that craves warriors - I have no doubt the name of the Golden Rancor will sing in bars and enemy camps once again -- that and a star destroyer's worth of credits to come."

 

[Nate Phantoms]

After watching the beast of a man, Ghorua, walk into the bar, shaking glasses and condiments, he knew any other entrances would look, rather small and insignificant, so he stayed in the shadowed corner of the bar, listening intently to [member="Ryss Ankarr"]'s words. This wouldn't be much different from some of the other groups ands clans he had worked with, aside from the fact this certain one was well anchored, and at least was still rumoured about.

Knowing only one of the newcomers, he decided to stay quiet, and only speak if spoken to , or when it called to be. He wasn't short by any means, but as he approached the table, he looked like a dwarf next to [member="Ghorua the Shark"], who stood nearly three feet taller than him, and had arms as thick as his torso. The hilt of his Vibro sword peeked over his shoulder, while the butt of his rifle stayed in it magnetic holster, also on his back. Standing besides the one person he could at least call an acquaintance, he listened, and remained quiet, scanning the four before him.

[member="Varian of Myrkr"], [member="Jansal Corego"]

 

[Jansal Corego]

Spoiler

[member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"] | [member="Ryss Ankarr"] | [member="Varian of Myrkr"] | [member="Ghorua the Shark"]

"Ni'll edeemir par jii," Jansal responder, his voice slow, in a drawl; he wasn't entirely sold - not so much out of etiquette but, rather, simple concerns left elsewhere in his mind. Goals and ambitions, all left to the whims of fate; who knew what steps would lead him through the door, or leave him tumbling over the edge of a cliff. "I'll bite for now," he repeated, this time in Galactic Standar; he had an odd habit of that, though not entirely unfamiliar - some culture prefer to mix their own tongue with that of common communication - he, however, tended to speak in Mando'a, then repeat himself. It felt, to him, he was testing his word against himself, how it sounded, how his heart beat in response; to taste whether or not he was sincere and, when he was certain, then, and only then, would he announce his intention. "Gar ganar ner baar sha gar eso, a ni trust gar kelir keep gar miit. Ni linibar te credits." That, he did not repeat; instead, he drew his arms behind the small of his back, allowing his rifle to fall slack at his side. "You'll have my rifle, then," he swore solemnly.

It was, in this moment, he allowed his attention to wander; more accurately, his fixation to dance between the others gathered here. Two men and a thing. This would be interesting. The two that stood out to him, mainly because they weren't a bipedal fish monster, appeared human, or humanoid - near-human, at least; doable, though that didn't mean they were either experienced or skilled. If not, he figured he would not have to mind their presence long. Perhaps they had Mandalorian heritage? That would make for an interesting conversation, consider his history with his kin; though, efforts to rekindle had been progressing swiftly, smoothly even. Perhaps it would be an ample opportunity to unite with his brethren. The whale, though - what in hell's name was that thing? It was massive, black as ink; it was like he was staring into a stumpy rubber tree with fangs. Stumpy, that only referred to his dimensions by comparison in of itself - it seemed wider than it was tall but, damn, was it tall. Thick and tall, probably at least four feet higher than Jansal himself, as well as the others. It's voice, too; Jansal felt fascinated.

"Can't guarantee credits now. But, with the name this company once had and a galaxy out there full of battle that craves warriors - I have no doubt the name of the Golden Rancor will sing in bars and enemy camps once again -- that and a star destroyer's worth of credits to come."

"Works for me," he responded. "Patience is a virtue, as they say; thought I'll keep you to your word, dala." He crossed his arms over his chest, an awkward posture, with the heavy case laden out over his breast, with rubbery piping running up along his shoulders, fastened into his helmet. "Though laaran- er, singing; unless I'm being paid for that too, you can go ahead and count me out for that."

 

[Ishana Pavanos]

Tatooine, Pleasure Palace...

Well, well, well Ishana thought to herself as she tugged on her new clothes. Part of the money she'd earned as a dancer for Sotta and then running that little gig for Kossak, actually paid the feth off. She walked in wearing something comfortable. "Gotta say, girl wouldn't mind dancing here." She's danced at more than her fair share of palaces and cantinas but this wasn't that bad considering where they were. Portend's Edge Bar was somewhere within the palace and as she looked at the Zeltrons both boys and girls. "Fething..."

Ishana only wished her Mandalorian girl [member="[/FONT][/SIZE][SIZE=14px][FONT='lucida sans unicode']Ashtah[/FONT][/SIZE][SIZE=14px][FONT='lucida sans unicode'] Ordo"] had gone with her. "Remind me to tell Ash about this place," she shuddered with the thoughts of the things they could do in a place like this. "Business first, Ashtah later." She told herself as she winked to the bouncer outside the bar, or he looked like one anyway. The music was definitely attractive, pretty good for a 'classy' joint like this. She enjoyed the bass, the vibrations that she could feel with her feet as she walked toward the meeting spot.

She was here for a gig, perhaps one that would be more steady and keep her out of every other Hutt's slimey hands for awhile. The Golden Rancor company or something like that, she'd gotten a tip off of somewhere or maybe someone. They were looking for a pilot, and while it may have been a moon or five since she's had to fly anything. She was more than confident in her skills, sorta.

To be honest, Ishana wasn't sure what she was looking for but one thing was certain [member="[/FONT][/SIZE][SIZE=14px][FONT='lucida sans unicode']Ghorua[/FONT][/SIZE][SIZE=14px][FONT='lucida sans unicode'] the Shark"] stood out, and it looked like there was a gathering of folks, Two Mandalorians to boot as well, the former TIE Fighter sighed happily. "Should've gotten that tattoo." And with that she makes her way toward the group, and toward [member="[/FONT][/SIZE][SIZE=14px][FONT='lucida sans unicode']Jansal[/FONT][/SIZE][SIZE=14px][FONT='lucida sans unicode'] [/FONT][/SIZE][SIZE=14px][FONT='lucida sans unicode']Corego[/FONT][/SIZE][SIZE=14px][FONT='lucida sans unicode']"], [member="[/FONT][/SIZE][SIZE=14px][FONT='lucida sans unicode']Ryss[/FONT][/SIZE][SIZE=14px][FONT='lucida sans unicode'] [/FONT][/SIZE][SIZE=14px][FONT='lucida sans unicode']Ankarr[/FONT][/SIZE][SIZE=14px][FONT='lucida sans unicode']"], [member="Varian of Myrkr"], she slipped past [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"] as she squeezed between the big shark and whoever was next to him. "Hi." She waves to the golden-eyed lady, doing her best not to belt out a whistle or two about those eyes. Always a sucker for eyes, Ishana was.

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua stood silently as he watched people filter in, giving them curt nods and happy smiles as they joined the gathering. The Herglic was happy to see that [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"] had joined them. At least the group wouldn't be completely alien, figuratively speaking, that is. Everyone else seemed to be human, or near-human. That was pretty normal for the Shark, so he wasn't bothered much by it.

"Sounds like the Rancors have a respected reputation. I'd love to add to it." Ghorua the Shark bowed to [member="Ryss Ankarr"], grinning. She may have been new to leading, but everyone had to start somewhere. She'd catch on; at least she wasn't trying to herd around amateurs. From the looks of the people around him, Ghorua figured they all knew what they were doing. "... And get my weight's worth in creds." He smiled over in the direction of [member="Jansal Corego"] and [member="Varian of Myrkr"]. They seemed to be the 'dark and ominous' types of the group. Men like them tried to mask themselves with a calm persona, often hiding a soft heart in a hard body. The galaxy tended to cultivate this sort of action. It was a tough place out there.

Ghorua had moved to the side as [member="Ishana Pavanos"] pushed through the group. Taking another content glance over the table, the colossus huffed out through his blowhole, a soft hauum going over the hubbub of the establishment. "And, for the record, I'll sing our praises if he won't," he said, tilting his head to Jansal, his dark, silky tone rumbling in the chests of all present.

 

[Ryss Ankarr]

Ryss cracked a hearty smile and nodded softly towards [member="Jansal Corego"]. "I don't speak Mando." she said, "But, I appreciate the bite, I have a debt to repay so I will make it my mission to uphold this company." The great beast of man, [member="Ghorua the Shark"] then added his compliance to join. She gave him a nod as well and slumped back into her sit. That's when a fair looking lass of a woman ([member="Ishana Pavanos"]) walked up to her group. A short hello was her greeting. Had she not been already occupied with the Zeltron, she would have taken a pass on her. But, Ryss thought it unprofessional to hit on someone while conducting a business meeting.

"Hi yourself." Ryss said with a wink. She then looked around and noticed the awkwardness of her flirting and the grin dropped off. Coughing out a short "Ahem." Ryss changed the subject. She stood up and ushered the group to follow her to a local hangar bay, "Why don't I show you guys the hardware we will be working with. Oh and any of you know how to fly a corvette class ship?"

They walk out of the bar and down a flight of stairs. They turn the corner, Ryss makes jokes and sly insults to the riff raff she knows around the joint, until they reach an open hangar with the dirtiest, most beat up relic of a by gone era is seen parked in front of them. With most of its paint torn off and a barely visible emblem of the golden rancor near the bridge, Ryss unveiled the ship that was also her inheritance. There was an old Mandalorian Crusader Class Corvette. Ryss's partner, an IG-88 kill droid called Ziggy blarted a few beeps, conveying his suggestion that her group was unimpressed.

"Shut up Ziggy." Ryss growls under her breath. With her arms open she spins around and faces her new band of Golden Rancor Mercs with a wide open smile. "Haa? What yah think?"


[member="Varian of Myrkr"] [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"]

 

[Jansal Corego]

Spoiler

[member="Ghorua the Shark"] | [member="Ishana Pavanos"] | [member="Varian of Myrkr"] | [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"] | [member="Ryss Ankarr"]

"Beats the pleasure palace," Jansal snorted, hands crossed over his chest. He made no attempt to hide his distaste for vice, but, even now, he found himself drawn into thought; loosely self-aware, amalgamated with the mind, he pondered over what lay ahead of him. "Not a pilot - could fly it, but not a pilot; better off with someone more adept, try the others. Ni nayc vaabir copad at cuyir nor'be te gaan'arise," he muttered. (I do not want to be behind the controls.) Before he can be further inquired, he added, "Also, not a translator." Would this provide him with what he needed? He sure hoped so, coupled with the RCFC this may be a beneficial venture - but only if the woman could hold up to her word; he had his doubts, certainly, but he was always one to provide the benefit of the doubt. There were the others of course, the massive fish-creature, the other woman, the two men; nothing quite of note, he hadn't heard of them - maybe they'd impress. Maybe they'd get him killed.

"An ancient ship, it'll need modifications to keep up with current tech. A lot of modifications," he said. Inheritance, more like a bauble related to a time long-gone; this was more of a keepsake for nostalgia than a weapon for their use. Now he was starting to worry - or, at least, consciously became bitter; he felt strung out in the face of unprofessionalism. What if this left a paper trail? What if the prostitutes back at the palace talked? His grip tightened on his weapon, it didn't matter; either he'd make credits or leave, with no trail to follow. He'd make sure of that. He relaxed, "Big ship, though - monstrous; then again, small before the might of others. I trust you intend to not take naval jobs? Might as well slanar- go ahead and strap some rubber wings to our arms and flap them at a Star Destroyer if you maintain any ideas of grandeur involving that thing; I take my jobs on the ground - transport, yes. You expect me to sit through dogfights on there? Nayc." (No.)

 

[Ishana Pavanos]

Ishana thought [member="[/COLOR][COLOR=#0099cc]Ryss[/COLOR][COLOR=#0099cc] [/COLOR][/FONT][/SIZE][COLOR=#0099cc][SIZE=14px][FONT='lucida sans unicode']Ankarr[/COLOR][/FONT][/SIZE][COLOR=#0099cc][SIZE=14px][FONT='lucida sans unicode']"] was cute, she followed their fearless golden-eyed leader out to a local hangar bay, where she laid eyes on the bucket of garbage that she'd be flying. "Not the prettiest thing, but I'll manage." She remarked, "just give me a few minutes with her, I'll get her to sing." There's a wink toward Ryss as she crosses her arms over her chest, listening to @Jansal Corego, big guy had a point this thing was gonna need more than a few modifications, but she'll do.

There's a bit of a chuckle from Ishana, "that thing isn't gonna dogfight anything, I might've been a great TIE Fighter once but even my talents are limited in something like that." She lets out one long and low whistle, sweet lekkus on a dancer this thing was bulky and definitely fitted more into something that should be on a line. "I mean if we absolutely had to? Feth." She lets out, and then looks back over at her employer, "gotta start somewhere, right?" Ugh, one of these days she was gonna learn to stop gambling her starfighters away and just stick with them.

"Got enough guns to get us through most fights, but I don't think I could handle all that while trying to flying it, I'll leave that to you, and uh... him." She points to [member="Ghorua the Shark"], "and maybe you two." She gestures toward [member="Varian of Myrkr"] and [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"]. Jobs, a job, and the lady said she'd pay and credits were more than enough to get her to plant her rear into the pilot's seat for this. "Hope the inside looks better than the outside."

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua the Shark followed the troupe outside, to their ship. He had to push past patrons as he went, politely shoving men and women out of the way. He spilled a few of their drinks on the way, but they didn't seem to mind after they got a look at him. That's how it usually went.

Once the ten-foot hunter got a view of the ship, he smiled widely, revealing rows of serrated teeth. Exactly the kind of ship he was expecting; garbage. Part of the fun of starting a new company was the humble beginnings. Ghorua would enjoy this immensely.

"Haha, I like it! I call the cargo hold. I doubt the rest of this trash heap would fit me." The plated monster rubbed his hands together happily, and began to step forward, tracing one massive hand over the hull. "I have to say, I was expecting a bit more, but this will do just fine!" He chuckled to himself.

The Shark was almost comparable to a child watching a humorous holovid. He observed the rest of the company, sparks of life in his dark eyes. He turned to [member="Ishana Pavanos"], the designated pilot, as she spoke of weapons. "Can do, but we may have to mod the weapons systems for my, er, size." The Herglic banged on the reinforced durasteel, grunting affirmatively as the loud sound permeated the surrounding area. "But besides that, it is a fine vessel, for our first ship, that is."

- [member="Jansal Corego"] - [member="Ryss Ankarr"] - [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"] - [member="Varian of Myrkr"] -

 

[Nate Phantoms]

Oh, the pain. Not even acknowledged. No, that wasn't any concern of his, he had one associate there, and that's all he needed. Following at the back of the group, listening but not actually, they all came to a stop and he nearly ran into the newest person in the group, that pretty little [member="Ishana Pavanos"]. Looking right above everyone's head, aside form Ghorua that is, his gaze rested on the ship....for better or for worse.

Not the prettiest thing, but he wasn't piloting it, so he didn't even care. Then they discussed weapons, where they would bunk. When [member="Ghorua the Shark"] said He would sleep in the cargo hold, he cleared his throat, giving the beast of a man a hard look. "You'll be saving some room for me down there, right?"

[member="Jansal Corego"], [member="Ryss Ankarr"]