Decisions to be made

[Aedan Miles]

Aedan Miles strode towards his long time friends office lately he had been anxious to much time sitting around to little time out fighting. As such he had come to the point where either he had to leave for a trip or he would need to find a new sponsor. Turning the corner into the hallway that led to [member="Darth Metus"] office striding forward calmly his long sleeveless coat almost brushing against the ground as he opened the door and walked in letting it swing close as he dropped into a seat across from his desk. He was sure he was one of the only people that would get away with doing something like this he looked across the desk calmly before sighing softly and whispering a bit. "Metus I am not sure how much longer I can deal with sitting around this whole time. I need something more."

 

[Malok]

This was a conversation long in the making.

You see, [member="Aedan Miles"] and the Vicelord shared certain similarities. They both had a horrid addiction to things "society" would find abhorrent. In the case of the former, torturing souls into alchemical wonders wasn't exactly something to be featured on a resume. And as for the former, high piracy wasn't exactly the most attractive occupation in a democratic nation. But. Like any addict, it was only a matter of time before they needed a fix.

And Darth Metus had just come off making the Phobis Devices.

When his friend sauntered into the room, the Sith casually reached under his desk. His fingers found and claimed a pair of glasses before setting them before the Pirate King. "I'm surprised you didn't come by sooner." he began, taking a moment to procure a bottle of Corellian Whiskey. "Fortunately, we're in a position where I can comfortably feed your addiction."

Darth Metus generously served he and his old friend a sampling of the beverage.

"But first, tell me, are you in bed with any Imperials? Particularly, those next door?"

[member="Aedan Miles"]

 

[Aedan Miles]

Aedan looked at the man with an expression that almost screamed a single word which he shortly after muttered. "Really?" He chuckled and finally took a deep breath shaking his head as he grinned savagely at his oldest living friend. "No they didn't give me anything I was actually putting feelers out for noteable backers before coming here wanted to make sure I didn't leave with no where to go. Most likely options were the First Order of if I was desperate the Sith Empire. The scum that we call neighbors were never an option nor would they ever be safe from me." He moves one so the foot of his right foot was resting on his left knee as he leaned back casually his eyes gleaming savagely as he looked at the man. "So sense it seems you have an idea to appease what I need lets hear what it its Metus." He reached forward plucking the glass off of the table top and taking a deep drink of it letting out a sigh at the taste.

[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Malok]

"It's nothing new, old friend. The same deal I always offer."

This time, the Sith produced a datapad from within his desk and set it before the Pirate King. A simple tap of his finger revealed the contents of the screen: a Writ of Mark. This document was something that any privateer would salivate over when offered by a sovereign nation. And, for extended family, it was something that Darth Metus had no trouble offering. "Protect our ships. Prey upon the Imperials next door. Send schematics of anything worthwhile that you steal. Do this and you've got a consistent stream of credits and a nation at your back the next time you decide to make off with the Republic's fleet."

He grinned, unable to help himself.

"How many times was that by the way. Twice? Thrice? Losing count."

[member="Aedan Miles"]