Somnambulance [Retconned]

[Toaster]

Olivia eyed the stranger suspiciously. His bright hair and young, friendly face stood in stark contrast to the black cloak he wore over a similarly dark combination of shirt and trousers. She watched him as he smiled down at her, nervously shifting from foot to foot as he waited for her answer.

"You're that Dromedary's pilot?" She finally asked. The man nodded enthusiastically and turned his body towards the ship, still resting atop its landing pad in the hangar's far corner.

"Yeah, that old girl's mine," he replied, still smiling. Olivia nodded slowly.

"How did you know I need transport?" She inquired, not taking her eyes off the stranger. He seemed harmless enough, with his friendly attitude, but it wasn't enough to settle her uneasiness. Under her current circumstances, she wasn't about to trust any person that walked up to her with a friendly face.

"Well," the man said, "I saw you come in on that Xeno hauler," he pointed a thumb over his shoulder in the Kestrel's general direction, "and then you walked over here and sat down. Didn't take much to guess that you didn't have a ship of your own here, so..." He trailed off, awkwardly smiling at her again. Olivia sighed. As much as her instincts told her to be careful, she couldn't afford to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"You're headed to Rheinland, right?" The stranger asked. Olivia simply nodded. "And that's all you're taking?" The man gestured at the crate beside her. She nodded again. "Well," he said with a carefree shrug, "I can take you there, if you want. Won't cost much."

Olivia gave a final nod.

"Alright. When are we leaving?" She asked.

"Just gonna get her refueled and off we go!" The stranger replied with a grin. "You can get onboard and get settled in already, if you like." He spun on his heels and headed off towards the bay's far side, gesturing for her to follow. Olivia remained seated for a moment, watching the man stride off with a light step, seemingly not having a care in the world.

Guess I'm jealous, she thought to herself and chuckled quietly. Then, she stood up from the bench, hoisted up the black crate, and followed the stranger to his ship.

Up close, she noticed just how clean and well-maintained the freighter looked, contrary to what she would have expected from a freelance hauler running routes through terrorist stations. Its hull lacked any of the burn marks and rust that one might have expected, and the paint job seemed to have been only recently reapplied.

"How long have you been flying?" Olivia asked as she caught up to the stranger, falling in beside him. He glanced at the crate in her arms, then at her, his expression asking whether she needed help carrying it. She shook her head.

"Ever since I won the old girl in a game of poker seven years ago," he answered, breaking a smile both mischievous and proud. Olivia whistled, impressed.

"She looks good."

The stranger nodded.

"I take good care of her. She's my home, after all, you know?"

Olivia knew only too well.

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Olivia Sable