Barrier Gate Station West Wing Pub, The Lone Drunkard

[Commissar]

Sarah nodded, acknowledging robocop's comments.
"I know they're different. That's what I'm getting at, oh-armoured-one." She saw him look away, her own eyes tracking his, before momentarily settling on Izzy. "Friend of yours? The engineer commented. Something about the woman unnerved her, and it wasn't just the knife. She just gave her a bad feeling...

She turned her attention back to the conversation, pushing the slightest whisper of a headache to the back of her mind. Sarah's lips twisted in a bemused smile at the mention of the cost. That much, at least, she had well and truly under control. She uttered a silent prayer of thanks that her father had been less vocal in his campaign for her return lately. Having a wealthy family had it's perks, as long as no-one knew about it. If they did, Sarah had a distinct impression half the bar would be dragging her back to Manhattan. The other half would likely be taking her somewhere with a few more guns.

"Don't worry about the price. The old girl's worth it." She nodded contently, her way of answering the final question. Yes, it was the same ship. Possibly the first.

"What's got me worri-" The appearance of a Bretonian girl, seemingly from mid-air was enough to cut the 'asteroid-fan' clean off. Suddenly the remark about Alice clipped into place.

"Sarah. Sarah McFarlen. At your service." She attempted to curtsey from a seated position, a difficult prospect at best. She caught herself halfway through the movement, shaking her head ruefully. Some habits just refused to die.

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May you live in interesting times.
| Sarah McFarlen | Jane Hartman |