Wrapping Up

[Toaster]

Son of a bitch, Olivia thought to herself when Morreti finally spoke up. Reminiscing about her mission on Crete was at the very bottom of her list of things she wanted to do. Even Beige, listening in on their conversation, seemed disinclined, his perpetually joyful face souring.

Olivia took another big swig of ale and sighed.

"It went fine, pretty much as planned. Casualties were...," she hesitated, recalling the ragged faces of her comrades as they disembarked their dropship on Freeport 1. "Acceptable."

Beige muttered an obscenity under his breath.

"Pedro was laying low at his mansion on Crete," Olivia continued. "Hired a company of mercenaries of his own and a bunch of Corsairs to protect him. There was a village nearby that he 'controlled' and used as a site for an artifact extraction operation. The plan was simple enough. One team assaulted the village, baited Pedro and his men out of his estate, the other team infiltrated the villa."

She paused, unconsciously tapping a finger at the bottle of ale before her. Images of the mansion's interior flashed before her eyes - the rich marble floor, the bright red carpets, the smoke and dust, the blood and bodies.

"I went to find his daughter. Young girl, nine years old. Pedro returned when he found out about the distraction. Walked in on me holding a gun to the kid's head. Traded his life for hers."

Olivia raised the bottle to her lips and held it there.

"Surprisingly decent."

She threw her head back and finished off the ale. Beige, in uncharacteristic somberness, raised his glass of whisky in a silent toast.

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Olivia Sable