TFP: Legends Never Die

Prologue: Into the Darkness

"Here they are," the bounty hunter said, bringing with him his precious cargo. He was paid quite handsomely for this particular job, but the money would be gone within the deca-orn, blown off as usual before he hunted for more work. His shoulder pauldrons created sharp shadows as he entered the new room, giving him a sinister look that matched his work.

"How many?" The mech asked, intrigued with the covered cage but careful not to show his excitement. He couldn't pretend he was too attached to the cargo, less the freelancer charge a small fee for 'inconveniences' along the way. Too many mecha had swindled him before with this method, and while he understood the business aspects of it, he was not a fan. If he enjoyed the cargo and was satisfied with the business transaction, he would tip. It wasn't nearly that simple, but the mech refused to complicate matters.

"Six. One's injured, but the other five are fine," the bounty hunter said. "7,000 credits per helm and half off for the injured one."

"Let me see them first."

The bounty hunter knelt down before he unveiled the cage. "Turn the lights up to 80%," the mech commanded, and it was then that he could see the green and black hues of the bounty hunter. His bounty hunter was younger than he thought, but already building a reputation for fast results with the desired outcome.

Young predacons. The mech was impressed and nodded his approval. They were small and could barely dent his servos, but when they were fully grown he knew they would be a force to reckon with. Hopefully, they wouldn't be too difficult to manage, but he had the means to keep them under control if they became too unruly. The injured one would be seen too, and if he didn't fully recover then the mech knew a separate buyer that would be interested in a tame pet.

"Impressive," he said, standing up and approaching the cave. The snarls that he was greeted with were promising, and the whimpers of the more docile predacons would be trained out of them. If all went according to his plans, he would be a rich mech. Rich enough to buy out half of Kaon, and certainly enough to snub the higher classes by beating them at their own games. They were not the only mechs who could do business and hoard credits, not for long.

"Take them away," he said, and the guard that was posted by the doorway hesitated for half a nanoclick before he wheeled out the dingy cage. "Who am I making out the credits to?" The mech asked, looking down at the young bounty hunter as he pulled out a datapad.

"Lockdown," the mech said, his optics watching the datapad greedily.

"Lockdown, Lockdown," the mech said. "That is 39,500 credits for the six of them, and a small tip as a thank you," the mech said. Lockdown's optics lit up as the credit transfer went through, and the mech almost snorted in amusement. The purchase barely made a dent in his funds, and the tip would ensure the loyalty of his new favorite bounty hunter.

"And who do I owe the pleasure of working for?" Lockdown asked, giving the mech a respectful half bow before he stepped back.

The mech barked a laugh. "I am no Lord," he said, although if all went well his name would carry a certain weight. "Please, call me Neo." The two mechs shook servos, the blunt digits of the half praxian meeting the sharper digits of the bounty hunter.

"Very well, Neo," Lockdown said. "I wish you a good orn, and do not hesitate to contact me if you require my services again," he said, ending the handshake and stepping back.

Neo simply nodded, and the bounty hunter excused himself before leaving. Yes, his name would be known soon, and while he had a decent reputation now he was hoping to extend his business. He glanced down the hallway that the cage had been wheeled down before he left his parlor.

Parlor was a stretch, although it was the closest equivalent to the space where he held business negotiations. It was sparsely decorated, but what decorations were there were rare collectibles and other memorable relics. The space was well lit, and as he traveled through his tower the lighting changed, becoming softer and dimmer. It suited the darker mech well, he prided himself in being approachable enough to conduct business while secretive enough that no one would ask questions.

He headed to his favorite room, the observatory deck. It took up an entire floor, and the carefully planned space allowed him to look out at the wonders and slums of Kaon without passing fliers being able to peer into his business. One particular section of Kaon caught his attention, brightly lit in the middle of the night. He looked over to the sector and smiled. The Kaon gladiatorial pits were always so festive while the games were ongoing, and the sparks that extinguished with it were simply poetic justice for those beneath him.