“What happened? We saw that there was a Cybertronian ship, but we didn’t get to know what happened.”
“You haven’t heard?” Phaser replies. “It’s practically the End Times on Cybertron, now.”
“We also saw a huge weird thing on Cybertron.”
He chuckled.
“I imagined that there is Unicron or stupid things like this. But that slag was threw in the pit a loooong time ago.”
“Well, his heralds have crawled out of that pit recently.”
He looked at them, confusion and shock in his eyes. He shook his head.
“I guess it’s a good thing that we are here. So anyway, are you going to accept the job?”
“What’s in it for us?” Phaser inquires.
“Well, seeing that you are the first ones that enter in our group, after we get more soldiers and helpers you would become a higher rank: general, soldier, whatever you want. But for now, you two will be guards.”
“Will we get paid?”
“There is no currency and/or money source here. Until money will became a thing again, no. But you will have power.”
“If you don’t have any money, you can see yourself off,” Tricorder says.
“What you want money for anyway? There is nothing to buy here!”
“Are you kidding?” Tricorder wonders. “This is Clemency, for spark’s sake.”
OOC: the black market thrives on the lost colonies, Clemency in particular.
Hornblow face palmed.
“If you help us repairing a money making place then yes, we will pay you.”
OOC: it’ll be fun bringing order to clemency
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“If you’ve got nothing for us upfront, then you can scamper off,” Tricorder says.
“How much do you want?”
He asked, annoyed. But the twos were remembering of him.
“Well, if you had nine hundred shanix, we’d take it.”
He sighed.
“Eight hundred.”
“Eight-fifty.”
“Eight-twenty.”