Sable's Experiences

[Toaster]

//No longer canon.

May 27, 828 A.S.

Olivia massaged her temples, trying to rub away the dull, throbbing pain of an incoming migraine.

Life was strange of late. Admittedly, the past years had never been simple, but it had never been this complicated, either. Nearly dying in the Omicrons. Waking up in a new suit of skin. Being accused of Nomad infection. People worrying about her, people asking her questions. Acting oddly, caring too much. And now, the latest addition to her collection of upsetting experiences - a dead man leaving her a gift.

Everett Lewitt, some no-name pirate she had met only twice, had somehow become infatuated enough with her to not only crave her death but, when nearly succeeding in fulfilling that desire, also take his own life. And Olivia would have never known about it, had he not left behind a farewell note addressed directly to her. But it wasn't just a note. It was a last will - one that a Rogue boss from Alcatraz had insisted on executing. And so, she had met with the man, away from the policed shipping lanes, on the fringes of a Californian asteroid field, where she had received Lewitt's parting gift.

Neither she nor the Rogue had had any idea what it was. When her ship received it, the Lich's scanners had gone completely haywire, energy readings spiking as though the small object had been an unshielded fusion reactor. Instinctively, she had considered jettisoning it again, leaving it behind in the void of space, floating amidst the icy rocks. But something about it had intrigued her, triggered her curiosity.

And now, here she was, sitting in her Manhattan flat's living room, staring at Lewitt's gift as it sat still upon the small coffee table. Olivia had never seen anything like it. An orb, roughly the size of a basketball. It looked crystalline, like an enormous gemstone, yet - unlike any rock she had ever seen - it emitted light. A faint, blueish-white light that cast long shadows across the otherwise unlit room. The mercenary could not help but stare at it.

Was it dangerous? Perhaps. The readings had certainly not given her a comfortable impression of the object, and yet it had done her no harm since she had picked it up. For all she knew, the scanners could have been merely malfunctioning. The orb could be little more than a fancy piece of art, some luxury decoration. But yet, a voice in the back of her mind nagged at her, telling her to get rid of it. That it meant trouble.

A second voice, however, louder than the first, told her to hang on to it. To keep it, to study it. To discover what it was.

The mercenary took a deep breath, feeling the throbbing pain in her skull sharpening to a pinpoint of agony as the migraine advanced.

She would keep the gift - for now. At least until she found out what it was.

---

Olivia Sable