Marcus woke early. The first light of dawn barely touched his apartment's grimy windows. Every breath he took was a struggle, but he ignored the pain. Today, he marched to the market.
His frail body ached, but his mind was sharp. He cracked his neck, took a deep puff from his wakeleaf pipe, and grabbed his cane. He needed parts for his robots, and the market was his destination.
The Market on Centari-IV wasn't like the ones of ancient Rome. It was a sprawling, futuristic bazaar. You could find anything there—from alien artifacts to the most advanced tech.
As he made his way through the crowded streets, people barely glanced at him. He was just another figure in the slums of this backwater planet. But that was about to change.
Marcus reached the Market and surveyed the scene. Holographic signs advertised all sorts of goods. The cacophony of haggling voices filled the air. He headed straight for a shop he knew had everything he needed.
Inside, the shop was filled with shelves of robot parts, some stacked to the ceiling. A middle-aged man with a thick mustache ran the place. He looked up from his counter, eyes gleaming at the sight of a potential big sale.
Marcus grabbed a levitating trolley and began picking out parts. Titanium plates, processor chips, energy cells—everything he would need to build his army. The shopkeeper watched in growing excitement as the basket filled.
Marcus tallied the cost in his head. It was a staggering 350,000 credits. It was enough to build one squadron: one captain, three workhorses, one grabber, one stabber and all the tools he needed to build them. He also bought a few cheap oversized black cloaks and the gas masks many inhabitants on Centari-IV liked to wear, the kind that covered the full face to reduce the impact of the pollutants and disease in such a compact city.
He felt amused; the total would be 50% cheaper if the titanium wasn't priced so high.
He reached the counter and stopped the trolly. The shopkeeper's eyes widened.
"Quite the haul you've got there," the man said, rubbing his hands together. "Working on something special?"
"Indeed," Marcus replied, a sly smile on his lips. "How much for all of this?"
The shopkeeper punched some numbers into his holo-pad and grinned. "350,000 credits."
Marcus raised an eyebrow. "That's quite a sum. Any chance for a discount?"
The shopkeeper chuckled. "For this amount? I'm afraid not."
Marcus leaned forward, his eyes narrowing, his voice taking on an authoritative tone. "Surely, there's some wiggle room. Perhaps 10% off for a loyal customer?"
The shopkeeper's smile faltered slightly. "I—uh, maybe 5%."
Marcus's demeanor shifted, his presence growing more intimidating, his intimidation III trait making his eyes like daggers and his shadow loom.
"Five percent won't cut it. Surely you can offer something better?"
The man hesitated. "I—I really can't. Maybe 10% at most."
Marcus's voice dropped to a menacing whisper. "You misunderstand. I want all of it for free."
The shopkeeper's face went pale. "What? That's outrageous! I'll lose my business!"
Marcus's eyes bored into the man's soul. "If you don't, you'll lose much more. Your life, perhaps."
Marcus was not a good person, he had grown up an orphan thieving on the streets and it was a lesson he had forgotten but remembered.
If you wanted to get ahead, you had to take what you needed. No one would give it to you.
The shopkeeper gulped. "You can't be serious. If I give you this, you'll never be able to set foot inside the Market again. They'll put a bounty on your head!"
Marcus smiled coldly. "Do you think that frightens me?"
The shopkeeper backed away, shaking. "Please, I have a family. I can't just—"
Marcus produced his laz-pistol and a roll of tape. He tossed the tape to the shopkeeper. "Tie yourself up. Now."
The shopkeeper stared wide eyed at the roll then back at Marcus "Y-you wouldn't shoot me! You're bluffing!"
Marcus stared at the man, eyes glinting with threat "Want to find out?"
The shopkeeper swallowed and after a moment shook his head and reached out. His hands trembled as he began to wrap the tape around his wrists. Marcus watched, his gaze icy and unyielding. After Marcus finished taping the shopkeepers mouth and limbs fully.
It would take some time for him to get out.
Once the shopkeeper was secured, Marcus took the levitating cart filled with parts and tools. He pushed it out of the shop and into the Market, his identity no longer hidden, his presence unmistakably menacing.
As he walked through the Market, people moved out of his way. No one dared to stop him. The merchant's earlier excitement turned into hushed whispers behind him, but Marcus paid them no mind.
He had what he needed. A captain, three workhorses, a grabber, and a stabber. The beginnings of his army.
The journey back to his apartment was slow. The levitating cart resisted, his body was weak, his legs cried out in pain but Marcus pushed on. He knew he had to work fast. There would be consequences; there always were.
But he could deal with them if he was ready.
Once inside his apartment, he examined the parts closely. They were exactly what he needed.
"System," he said, "pull up the blueprint for the Captain bot."
[Blueprint initiated.]
In his mind, the blueprints came alive. He saw every component, every wire, and every connection. Hours passed as he meticulously assembled the Captain Bot, his hands moving with precision.
By the time he finished, the room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of his medical equipment. The Captain Bot stood before him, a silent testament to his determination. He plugged in its Automation Soul, a slightly modified version of Shadow's, less inclined towards imitation and more inclined towards militaristic behavior.
The Captain bot saluted Marcus as it came alive and Marcus nodded telling it to wait.
Next, he worked on the workhorses. Their bulky frames were easier, less complicated. They didn't need the sophisticated AI of the Captain Bot.
The grabber and stabber came last. They required specialized parts, but Marcus knew their importance. They were his enforcers, his tools of intimidation and control.
By the time dawn broke again, Marcus had finished. The squadron stood ready, waiting for his command, Marcus had covered them all with the cloaks he had bought and they wore the gas masks he had bought. He could communicate and see video through his wrist-holo which was linked to the Captain bot just like it had been to Shadow.
There came a banging on the door.
"Marcus Crassus! OPEN UP!" came a gruff voice outside, Marcus checked the time, it had been about 14 hours since he robbed the Market. The shopkeeper must have got free and reported it, a bounty no doubt had been placed on his head, likely not a huge one yet.
"We can do this the easy way, or the hard way! You got 10 seconds to open up before we break in there and break your legs!" came the voice, a bounty hunter no doubt.
Marcus smiled and sat in a chair in the back of the room, he looked at the Captain bot and it's squadron.
This would prove to be an excellent test.