Mist planet. {3}

The trader's smile faltered, but he quickly recovered, launching into a rapid-fire spiel about market fluctuations and the value of long-term partnerships. The Tyrant didn't budge. Its glowing golden visor remained fixed on the man, unblinking and unyielding.

[Payment. Upfront.]

The trader's confidence wavered, and he glanced nervously at his companions. One of them stepped forward, a burly figure with a cybernetic arm, and tried to assert dominance. "Listen, tin can, we've been doing this for years. You don't just—"

Before he could finish, the Tyrant's massive hand shot out, grabbing the man by the front of his jacket and lifting him off the ground with terrifying ease. The feed crackled with the sound of the man's choked gasp as the Tyrant leaned in, its voice low and menacing.

[Payment. Upfront. Or leave.]