In Game of thrones with Sci fi Military system

Alex adjusted his dark, finely tailored robe as he stepped out into the bustling streets of Pentos. Raven walked silently beside him, his heavy armor still clinking with each step, but his presence commanding respect. Alex, however, had chosen to leave his more imposing attire behind, opting instead for a more subtle look, a robe that marked him as someone of importance, yet not immediately threatening. He had to blend in, for now, and nothing spoke to power in this city like the presence of a knight guard.

Leon stayed behind at the hideout with Daenerys, keeping watch and making sure she was safe while Alex and Raven made their way toward the docks. The streets were crowded with merchants, tradesmen, and common folk, but Alex's gaze was focused ahead.

As they neared the docks, the chatter of the crowd seemed to dip into hushed murmurs. Whispers followed them through the streets—gossiping traders, curious onlookers, and gossip-hungry street urchins eyed the pair as they passed. Their gazes lingered on Raven's towering figure, the unmistakable armor marking him as one of Alex's knights.

In Westeros, a knight was a symbol of power. Even without the banner of a noble house, the presence of a knight guard sent a clear message. Alex was no common traveler, and word of his appearance quickly spread throughout the market.

"Did you see? He's got a knight with him! Must be someone important."

"Who's that? I didn't think Pentos had knights like that."

"Probably a foreign lord, come to buy his way into power."

Alex ignored their whispers, his expression cool and unreadable. He wasn't here for idle chatter—he had a job to do.

He walked into a dimly lit merchant stall, where the salty scent of the docks mixed with the smell of fish and old wood. The merchant behind the counter was a wiry, older man with a scraggly beard, his eyes darting between Alex and the goods before him.

Alex leaned on the counter slightly, his voice low but assertive. "I'm looking to buy slaves," he said, his eyes never leaving the merchant's. "Tell me where I can find them."

The merchant's eyes widened in disbelief. "Slaves? Slavery is banned in Pentos. The peace treaty with Braavos—"

Alex's hand moved quickly, gripping the merchant's wrist with a firm but calculated force. "Don't lie to me," he said coldly, his gaze hardening. "I know what's happening here. Slavery hasn't disappeared; it's just gone underground, hidden behind different banners. So I'll ask you again: where can I buy slaves?"

The merchant gulped, fear flashing across his face. His mouth opened and closed, trying to come up with a response, but Alex's grip tightened slightly, making it clear that the wrong answer would lead to serious consequences.

"Please, sir, I—I don't want trouble," the merchant stammered, trying to pull away from Alex's hold but failing. "There's a man, a trader, named Jorlan. He deals in… in rare goods, including slaves. He's in the southern market, near the old warehouse. But I swear, no one here is selling them openly!"

Alex studied the merchant's face for a moment longer before releasing his grip. The man quickly pulled back his hand, rubbing it nervously.

"Good," Alex said, his voice softening just slightly, though still firm. "Tell anyone I asked, and I will be back. And next time, you won't have a chance to lie to me."

The merchant nodded frantically, his eyes wide with fear. "Of course, of course, sir. No harm will come to you."

With that, Alex turned on his heel, Raven falling into step beside him. The merchant watched them go, clearly shaken. Alex's mind was already moving forward, the next task in his mind.

As they reached the edge of the docks, Raven spoke in his low, gravelly voice. "Master, what will you do with the slaves once you've acquired them?"

Alex's eyes narrowed. "They'll be useful for the takeover of the city. Workers, guards—people who owe me. Once I've consolidated my power, I'll give them their freedom."

Raven raised an eyebrow but said nothing more. He was a man of action, not one for questioning his leader's plans.

When they arrived at the southern market, the place was as quiet as it was seedy. Old warehouses lined the streets, the air thick with the smell of salt and oil. It was here, in the shadows of Pentos, where deals were made and power shifted in the dark. Alex had to be careful.

He looked around and saw a man standing at the entrance of one of the warehouses. He had a hood up, obscuring his face, but there was no mistaking the way he carried himself. This was Jorlan, the trader.

Without wasting time, Alex approached him, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword. "You Jorlan?" he asked.

The man looked up, his eyes sizing Alex up with obvious wariness. "I am," he said, his voice rough. "You looking for a deal?"

Alex didn't waste words. "I'm looking for slaves. I've been told you deal in rare goods. Slaves are rare enough."

Jorlan's eyes flicked to Raven standing silently behind Alex. He seemed to think better of making a move and nodded slowly. "I can get you what you want. But it won't come cheap."

"I'm not here for games," Alex said, his voice cold and sharp. "Just show me what you have, and we can talk price."

Jorlan hesitated, then gave a slight nod, leading Alex and Raven further into the warehouse. The darkened room was filled with shadows and smells of damp wood and human sweat. A few crates sat in the corner, their contents covered by rough cloths.

The moment Jorlan lifted the cloths, Alex saw the people inside—dirty, chained, and clearly malnourished. His gaze hardened. These were people—human beings—used as tools for the rich and powerful. They had been stripped of their dignity, their lives sold for a price.

Alex's lips pressed together into a thin line, but he didn't say anything. He turned to Jorlan. "How many do you have?"

Jorlan seemed to sense that Alex wasn't here to negotiate for the highest bidder, and he gave a sharp intake of breath. "I have twenty, all skilled, some with fighting experience. But again, this isn't something you can buy for a handful of coins."

Alex flicked a small pouch of gold coins from his belt and tossed it on the counter between them. "We'll see about that".