Shady Business

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Goa Offroad
Goa shuffles lazily down the main street here. The Decepticon occasionally disappears inside a building, then soon steps back out, looking either more amused or slightly disappointed. It seems to correspond to whether or not he's got a data chip or card in his hand. Hinged blades hang openly, glinting, from his shoulders. From the glares he throws at the dingy mechs on the streets and alleys that approach him, it'd seem he's not interested in being jerked around this cycle... whatever supplies it is he's on the hunt for.
A large black mech comes out of a building, having to step down just a bit to avoid hitting the low clearance of the door and mostly due to massive armor structure. It was easy to tell by his looks that he was a military model, by the color of his gold optics, to the massive cannons on his backside, and just everything about him, he wasn't an Autobot construct, but that of Polyhex.
Polyhex had a way of making their soldiers, this one was a prime example of it, however he had no marking on him, thus he apparently didn't serve anyone. He probably was the same height as Optimus Prime if not maybe just a tad shorter. However as he went to step around the bend, he almost, almost ran into Goa.
Though with a quick step back that avoided the situation and those gold optics looked at the mech before him, taking notice quickly of the Decepticon marking, before he gave a nod of the head. "Apologies sir." He said respectfully and with a deep, harsh voice.
Apparently this was also no young mech either.
Goa has his arm over his shoulder, trying to find something in his cab, and utterly distracted as he nearly plows into the far taller mech. "Watch it, buddy--" he hisses. Or maybe that's the sound of his tires scuffing on the ground. He stops mid-exclamation, at any rate, to shut up and look up. His mismatched orange-and-red optics meet the yellow ones overhead with a glare that's stern, then ... becomes inquisitive after a moment.
"... not sir to you." The Decepticon sidesteps out of the way, then finally finds the data pad he was looking for. He pulls it in front and cuts the stare off after a second to look over it. A smirk on the Con's face is visible in the glow from the device.
Offroad raises an optical ridge as he watches the mech pass him by. "You looking for something?" He calls over, "Perhaps I can be of assistance." Though he doubts the Decepticon would accept it.
Goa takes another look over at Offroad, evaluating that offer. Well, this mech had a few things going in his favor ... he hadn't assumed what Goa was looking for. That was a good start. He also was bigger than Goa. That could be useful if he headed deeper into Cubicron. Everyone seemed to think he was from around here for some reason, but he really was lost as anybody in the newer streets... 'Newer' having a rather wide definition for him. Oh, and he wasn't shooting at him! Couldn't forget that. Goa points at the data pad. "Looking for somebody's magnesium dump." He tilts one orange antenna forward from its dark slat in his helmet. He didn't expect the big guy to know anything, but he was here, so ...
Offroad walks over, people did seem to stay clear of the Mercenary. Then again he also helped keep the peace around in Cubicron and he had no problem punching crime-lords in the faces, or blowing up their buildings. What do you expect from a heavily armored half-track on treads?
"Magnesium dump?" He questions back, "There are a few, however the underground sector has better deals, but very shady business."
"If I wasn't expecting shady business, would I be in Cubi?" The short mech's tone is sarcastic, bitter, but amused, too. After rolling them a moment, he keeps his optics locked, tilting his helmet backwards as Offroad approaches. Unlike the rabble moving to and fro, this mech displays absolutely no fear, not even a subtle lean away. "Show me where you're talkin' about, I'll split the pay." A bold offer. But Goa mumbles as he turns back away to look at something. "However little Megatron decides that is, anyway."
"Megatron." Offroad repeats. "Bold name, bolder goals." Was all the Mercenary had to say about the Decepticon leader. "Do not concern yourself on payment, I need to check something out in that sector anyways." He then motions for the Decepticon to follow him.
Goa shrugs, and his stance becomes stiffer for a moment. In Cubicron, if a mech didn't want payment, they wanted something else. But he could cross that bridge when it came -- for the first time in a while, Goa is thankful for his stationing topside, away from here. "You're tellin' me," he chuckles, falling loosely into following formation behind the dark mech. He blinks to himself. Huh. Well, at least he wasn't the only design with an over-sized back plate running around. "If you're so eager to help out, you got a name?"
"Offroad." The black mech replies. "Former Polyhexian military tactical unit. Serial Number J-0187" He then heads into a much darker area of Cubicron, it was very quiet here, almost too quiet for some.
Goa has his hackles up, literally to some extent; the blades at his shoulders fold up closer against his steely back plate. No hesitation from the li'l green guy beyond that, though. "Goa. No fancy number or position." The slight tension isn't from the change in scenery. Ex-'con? Probably a reason for that. Goa surprises himself, finding he doesn't particularly care. But survival programming urges him to keep an eye out nonetheless. At least for now, in the wake of this Offroad character, nobody was giving him trouble.
Offroad walks around the corner with two mechs standing in the way to a rather large building, "Step aside."
"What business could a merc like you have here?" One of them says with a smirk.
Then with a whirl of one of the massive cannons swinging around to rest up on his shoulder and point down at the random mech it starts to glow inside the barrel, which the color of red is easy to see on the mech's chrome plated face. "I make my own personal business. Now step aside."
"Y-yes sir.."
The two move aside, and the cannon swings back into its down position. He glances over to Goa, "By the way, it is a pleasure to meet you Goa." He then leads the smaller mech inside.
Within is several shops, selling many black-market items, along with willing to buy if someone has the stuff to offer as well.
From weapons, equipment, armor-upgrades, anything and about everything was here.
Goa sneers at the guard-of-sorts as he passes by in Offroad's shadow, observant under the expression to see if he knows that guy. No, not familiar. Good. He probably could've gotten by with his own credentials ... but he has to admit to himself, it would've been a pain. And Goa knows as well as any black market goon that a cycle can use the occasional ruffling-up.
"Huuuuh," Goa ogle-scans the closest shops, another check for familiarity. He stops himself. If somebody was gonna stop him, they'd stop him. "Back atcha, Offroad." This was a greater favor than the ex-'Con likely realized -- Goa had been avoiding the Market and Cubicron in general for a few reasons, not least an inflated sense of paranoia, so he wasn't sure quite where to look for them. Hence his snooping. And his pocketbook was starting to suffer for it. "Dunno what your business is, but you need backup, I'll hang around. Else, I'mma go shopping." He moves around to Offroad's front, grinning now.
Offroad chuckles softly, "Well, this is what you needed, so go take care of your business, as for what I do. I am a hired Mercenary. I work on both fronts of the war and as a hired gun." He explains.
"Sometimes doing the dirty work that no-one wants to. Not good at much else.."
Goa puts his fists on his hips, evaluating that and at the same time confirming the mapping details in his processor. Sure, that made sense if he was so well-armed and not on the Decepticon roster, but why? Maybe better for Goa not to know for now. For his own sanity's sake.
"Would say I know how you feel, but it'd pro'lly make me look like an idiot, not like this work is dirty," Goa says, motioning over his shoulder. Actually, it was a pretty dirty place, with all the operation going into incoming and outgoing profit, not like there was a janitor crew. But everything's relative. "I'll see you around, Offroad." The green mech smirks, salutes, and on that note, disappears smoothly into the stalls.
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