Drinks at Dixie's

[Toaster]

The mercenary raised an eyebrow. "It never quite goes away, does it?" She remarked, eyeing Prower's clenched fist. In her line of work, Olivia had seen the tell-tale signs of concealed prosthetics many times. As advanced and lifelike as the replacement limbs had become over the centuries, the human mind seemed to refuse to be tricked by them.

Olivia leaned back in her seat, crossing one leg over the other.

"What brought me back? Business, of course." She furrowed her brows, glaring at the glass of ale in her hand. "I've burned through several ships and just about every credit to my name hunting Mavros and his vermin associates. So I figured, I'd try my luck at earning a few bucks here before I carry on." She glanced up, her frown lightening and a weak smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Say what I may about Liberty, but you people do pay well." Her eyes moved away again, the mercenary's gaze growing distant. "Besides, I figured I should check in on some people around here. I owe Liberty that much."

Olivia raised her glass to her mouth and took a long drink, lost too deep in thought to even scowl at the flavor.

---

Olivia Sable
On hiatus