DOSSIER:
Race: Scatteran
Age: Forty.
Height: 5'8".
Weight: 190lbs.
Hair Color: Black.
Eye Color: Green.
Skill Set: Advanced weapons training(Heavy weaponry specialty) and years of experience, learned tactician, practiced hostage negotiator, familiar with demolitions, capable interrogator, intimate knowledge of advanced military operations, intimate knowledge of Van Leugen, and it's gangs, counter-terror training, Invictus training, well schooled in sabotage, logistics, and how to kill anyone dumb enough to get the in way. As well as all the perks and knowledge that comes with being a Scatteran.
BIO:
Gil was, and still is a survivor first and foremost. A potent member of the Scatteran race, he's a born and bred Dog of War. He'd seen and endured some of the worst shares of various conflicts and realized The Coalition just wasn't worth it. They sure didn't pay enough, so when things went bad he jumped ship, and fell in with The Invictus, much like Church. It was a good fit for awhile, but it didn't work out in the end.
Gil always had a mind for a little too much profit, and a little too much collateral.
Ariadne probably would've been happy to try and sway him into staying, but he just wasn't interested. He split for the outer-worlds, the rougher places of the galaxy. Places like Hera Prime, and places that made Hera Prime look like a sunny meadow. He endured, he marched on, he shot on. He fell in with a band of Mercenaries that called themselves The All-Consuming Snakes, it was based off some old myth or some shit.
Gil didn't care, he thought it was stupid, and cheesy, but the pay was good.
Only problem is Gil had no where to go, no position to rise too. The old man in charged was an iron-fisted bastard who only promoted the people who kissed his ass enough, or were related to him, this left Gil as a nobody. Despite his superior skills. He made do for awhile, though, took his time. Slowly gathered and convinced some of the equally unhappy members of the company to come around to seeing him as a leader. A better leader. All in all it turned into a coup, and a failed one at that.
Scatteran arrogance had lulled Gil into a false sense of security, and he underestimated the old geezer.
No, the old man didn't shoot faster, or hit harder, he just knew how to play the game better. Some of the "trustworthy friends" of Gil's weren't either. The night before the coup the loyalists broke in and straight up murdered everyone in their sleep, except Gil. They beat him senseless, stripped him of everything but his ratty clothes, and dumped him on the first backwater they ran into. After a solid month of nearly starving him, and routine beatings while in the brig.
Needless to say, he was pissed. Especially when he realized the "backwater" they had picked was none other than Terra. Stupid bastards.
They did however make sure to strand him in the biggest cesspit they could find on the planet. VL. Weakened and blinded by rage he survived like a rat in the deepest well of the Nillies. He was pretty much at rock bottom when he ran afoul of a local street gang playing at being crime bosses. The two thugs who cornered him demanding money, and to know where his allegiance was got a very quick, very harsh beat-down.
In fact, Gil was so impressed by their utter incompetence that he forced both of the young men to lead him back to their "base", a decent apartment, by Nillies' standards anyway.
Again he was impressed when he managed to subdue to doormen, despite being poorly healed, hungry, unarmed, and more than a bit tired. He decided to see how far he could push it, and fought his way to the very top of their food chain. The boss, surprisingly enough, was just as impressed with Gil's capabilities, as Gil was with his lackeys' uselessness. They struck a pretty quick deal once the haggard man stopped beating the ever-living shit out of everyone.
A hell of a lot of cash for his joining the gang, and his training of the other members.
It actually worked out, too well for old Bloody Nines, the gang's head. Gil quickly turned the wannabe bangers into an actual fighting force, he also set about bringing in other ex-military types. Scatteran, Gardenite, Ex-Invictus, you name it, he found them and pitched the "gang" to them. At first Nines was pretty thrilled at the thought of more warrior's blood in his organization. He was even more thrilled at the fact The South Nillies Gorgons were actually pushing back the upstart Triads, instead of getting turned to paste like usual. But he was smart too, just not as smart as the old merc. Nines say the writing on the wall eventually, but it was too late.
Most of the crew was now either people feverishly loyal to Gil, or ex-military types Gil had brought in. The coup was inevitable, bloody, and swift.
VL was beyond tense at first as Gil took over the Gorgons. The Triads knew it was over, and the Bratva, and Mafia families were getting nervous. The too ended swiftly. Gil had been giving a lot of thought on how to run things, on the dynamics of gang life, and VL. It just didn't add up, not in a way that netted enough green for himself, and everybody else that is. Why fight other gangs, and the police, and The Invictus, and whoever else showed up, all while paying through the nose for black-market weaponry? Why do that shit when you could do all of it, minus the cops, minus The Invictus, minus the markup on arms, all while charging three times as much?
It was simply, there was no goddamn reason to.
At the end of his first week in charge The South Nillies Gorgons were no more, and Gorgon's Watch Protection Services was born. That was ten years ago, and The Gorgon has been riding a wave of calculated violence, fame, and mad money ever since.