Nestled in the skeletal remains of a crashed spaceship that had plummeted to the earth half a century ago was the "Rust Market". It was a thriving underground bazaar where you could find everything, from contraband microchips and stolen organs, to a piping hot bowl of radioactive soup.
Zeph tugged at his hood uneasily. "The air quality here is borderline toxic, according to my AI. I should probably hold my breath."
"Just take shallow breaths," Kaelen grunted, pushing through the throng of scavengers and outlaws.
They came to a halt in front of a makeshift booth, hammered together from salvaged scrap metal. Behind the counter sat Grix, a creature resembling a goblin, his four mechanical arms hard at work polishing a laser rifle.
"Grix!" Zeph called out, grinning as he leaned on the counter. "My favorite four-armed rogue! How's the family? Still as homely as ever?"
Grix looked up, his cybernetic eye zooming in on Zeph. "Vane, I heard you were either dead or rolling in cash. Which one is it?"
"Rich," Kaelen interjected, unceremoniously dropping a bag of pilfered gear onto the counter with a loud clank. "We're looking to unload this stash. ASAP."
Grix curiously peeked into the bag, whistling in surprise. "Police gear. Top-tier scopes, stun batons, and... is that a thermal grenade?"
"Lightly used," Zeph quickly added. "The previous owner kicked the bucket from natural causes."
"Lie Detected," whispered the AI. "Grix's heart rate has spiked. He's interested in the gear. Estimated Value: 15,000 credits."
Grix scratched his chin thoughtfully with a metal claw. "This is hot stuff. Too hot. I can part with... two thousand."
"Two thousand?!" Zeph retorted. "That grenade alone is worth three! Give us a fair price, Grix. This is quality merchandise!"
"Negotiation Tactic suggested: Mention 'Big Tony', a competing dealer. Probability of price increase: 65%."
"Oh, and by the way," Zeph added smoothly, "Big Tony down the street was ready to shell out five thousand just for the scopes."
Grix squinted suspiciously. "Tony's a cheat."
"Maybe," Zeph shrugged nonchalantly. "But his money is as good as anyone else's."
Grix grumbled under his breath, tapping on a calculator. "Fine, fine. You're bleeding me dry. Four thousand. That's my final offer."
Zeph smirked confidently, ready to push for six thousand. His AI had tipped him off about Grix's tell -- his third arm twitched when he was bluffing.
"Actually, I think—" Zeph began.
SLAM.
Kaelen's hand came crashing down on the metal counter.
The booth was suddenly enveloped in darkness as the lights flickered and died. The only illumination came from Grix's cybernetic eye, which darted around the darkened booth in a panic.
"Ten thousand," Kaelen whispered, his voice echoing eerily from the corners of the room.
Grix swallowed hard. "Now hold on, Thorne, I'm running a business—"
A shadow coiled around Grix's throat, not tight enough to kill but cold enough to sear.
"Ten. Thousand," Kaelen reiterated, leaning forward, his eyes an abyss of darkness. "Or I liquidate you."
Grix gasped for breath, his mechanical arms flailing in panic, knocking over the laser rifle.
"Kae!" Zeph hissed, grabbing Kaelen's arm. "We're negotiating, not strangling our clients!"
Kaelen didn't look at Zeph. He kept his gaze fixed on Grix. "Do we have a deal?"
"Y-yes!" Grix squeaked. "Ten! Just take it!"
Instantly, the shadows vanished and the lights flickered back on.
Grix slumped onto his stool, clutching his frostbitten neck. With trembling hands, he transferred the credits to a chip and flung it at them.
"Get out," Grix croaked. "Don't come back. You two are nuts."
Kaelen snatched the chip out of the air, turning to leave without a word.
Zeph glanced apologetically at Grix. "He's not a morning person... Sorry about the neck."
Zeph hurried after Kaelen.
"What was that about?!" Zeph demanded, catching up to him. "I had him on the ropes! I was playing it smart! I had the upper hand!"
"I used fear," Kaelen replied, pocketing the chip. "It's more efficient."
"Analysis," the AI chimed in. "Fear is a short-term motivator and breeds enemies. Logic fosters partnerships. Kaelen is prioritizing efficiency over stability."
"He's choosing to be a bully," Zeph thought, frowning.
"We got double what you were aiming for," Kaelen said, stopping to face Zeph. "Results, Zeph. That's what matters. You're the one who taught me that."
"I was giving you advice on dating!" Zeph exclaimed. "Not how to strangle our contacts!"
Kaelen stepped closer, the air growing cold again. "We're being hunted, Zeph. The entire city wants us dead. I don't have the luxury of being nice. I need to be terrifying. Because if they're not scared of us... they'll kill us."
Zeph met his friend's gaze. The darkness was gone, but the intensity remained.
"You're scaring me," Zeph admitted quietly.
Kaelen flinched, a flicker of the old Kaelen showing through.
"I..." Kaelen began.
Suddenly, a siren wailed in the distance.
Kaelen's face hardened once more. "Good. If you're scared, you might just survive."
He turned and disappeared into the crowd.
Zeph stood there for a moment.
"Warning," the AI said softly. "Emotional distance between subjects increasing. Probability of betrayal: 15%."
"Shut up," Zeph snapped at the AI. "He's just stressed."
"Stress reveals character," the AI responded. "It does not change it."
Zeph shuddered. He looked at Kaelen's retreating figure and for the first time, he wondered if the real threat wasn't the bounty hunters.