The Market was a bustling place, a labyrinth of stalls and shops where anything from exotic spices to advanced technology could be found. It was here, amid the chatter of bartering and the clink of coins, that the Merchant thrived. He was a plump man with a perpetual grin and eyes that shone with a gleam of mercantile cunning. He had been in the business for years, and his affiliation with the Black Hoods only added to his lucrative dealings.
Ever since his last encounter with Marcus—which had left him humiliated and lighter by a considerable amount of inventory—he had beefed up security. Today, a new guard stood by the entrance, a burly man with a scar running down his face. His eyes scanned the crowd with the trained suspicion of a seasoned thug.
The Merchant sat behind his counter, flipping through a ledger and muttering under his breath. "Stupid cripple... thought he'd get away easy. The Black Hoods will get him soon enough," he sneered as he glanced up at the door periodically, hopeful for new customers.
It was a cutthroat business working for the Black Hoods; they had quotas to meet, and the Merchant regularly upped the prices on his goods. He could get away with it because they owned all the supply on the planet. It screwed over most people, but the Merchant didn't care; he only cared about filling his pockets.
Just then, the bell above the door chimed, and the Merchant's eyes narrowed. A group of cloaked figures entered, walking in a surprisingly orderly formation. Their gas masks and slow, methodical gait concealed their true nature. One figure led the squadron, it scanned the room silently. Behind it, larger figures that almost lumbered in comparison followed, while two slimmer, more angular ones brought up the rear, but to any observer, they appeared as humans shrouded in heavy cloaks.
Lanky ones, weak and poor looking.
"Another big order," the Merchant thought, his avaricious nature kicking in despite his weariness. "This could help make up for my losses."
Seeing the customers approach, the guard scoffed, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Don't worry boss, I can't tell these folks hardly have any equipment, not a gun holster in sight." he muttered.
The Merchant waved him off dismissively, although he made a mental note to stay cautious. The lead figure reached the counter, placing a data chip revealing a lengthy list of items.
"Quite the order," the Merchant said, faking cheerfulness. "Let me see here... Hmm, this won't come cheap, mind you."
"Price isn't an issue." the man responded, his voice sounding odd and slightly distorted. The Merchant thought it must've been the mask.
The Merchant's eyes gleamed with greed as he started tallying the order. "Well, if price isn't an issue, you'll find we have everything you need right here."
The Merchant got up and walked around the store collecting the various equipment onto multiple hover trollies. He had the passing remembrance of being robbed not long ago but shook his head, messing with the Black Hoods was a death wish.
Not many fools like that cripple would be insane enough to do it.
He returned back to the front and noticed the group had hardly moved, infact it looked as if they hadn't even moved an inch from before. The Merchant shook his head, odd folk.
"Here are the goods, you'll find-"
The Merchant was ignored by the man who instead turned and began reviewing the carts for some time. The Merchant scowled making a mental note to give them a nasty price. When the man finally turned back it made no motion to nod.
"All goods are accounted for."
The Merchant rolled his eyes and nodded "Yes of course, now for the price this would tally up to..." the Merchant thought, in reality these goods hardly cost 100,000 credits to produce and a fair markup would be around 3X, but he smiled instead "...700,000 credits should do."
The lead figure then spoke again, its voice carrying an unsettling mechanical undertone. "Requesting a 100% discount."
The Merchant barked out a laugh, his veneer of politeness dissolving. "A discount? You must be joking! If you can't pay the full price, you can buzz off!"
He gestured to the guard, who stepped forward, baton in hand, with a smirk of overconfidence. He struck the nearest cloaked figure with all his might, only for the impact to echo loudly without so much as a flinch from the recipient. The hooded figure swayed slightly but remained otherwise unaffected.
The guard's face twisted with indignation. "You bastards, he said get lost!" he shouted.
Before the guard could strike again, one of the slimmer figures moved. With a jank unbalanced motion, a metallic arm shot out from beneath the cloak, plunging a blade into the guard's torso. The guard's eyes widened in shock and pain before he crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
The Merchant's face turned ashen. "W-What are you?" he stuttered, fear gripping him. He peered closely at the lead figure, the cloaks shifting slightly to reveal the faint glint of metal beneath.
The lead figure stepped closer, its red eye glow now visible despite the shadows of the hood and lenses of the gas mask, it's head tilted left and then back in a ticking motion "Stating request again: 100% discount"
The Merchant gulped.
He truly was not lucky.