Olivia spent a few seconds thinking about the girl. Sofia. Was she even still alive? Or had the Cretan vultures already swooped in and torn her to shreds for the vast wealth her father had acquired? It didn't matter. An orphaned artifact dealer's child wouldn't last long among the Corsairs. And if by some odd miracle she did survive long enough to exact revenge on Olivia and the Colors...
It would be fair.
"I'll pass my share on to my crew," Olivia responded to Cobra's question. She was grateful for the change of topic. "It's the least I can do for them."
"More booze for me," Beige chuckled quietly off to the side, sipping at his whiskey. Olivia simply nodded.
Her mood had soured over the memories of Crete and her desire to leave Ames grew. What she really wanted was to spend some time in civilized space again, far away from the Omegas, Taus, and other wild regions of Sirius. What credits she still had she would spend on a nice hotel room on Manhattan, or maybe even Los Angeles. Curacao would be nice, but her savings had made too great a sacrifice to enable that option. Maybe she'd hold on to just a little of the money Morreti had wired them.
Rather suddenly he'd speak up. "Go." Certainly a strange thing to say out of the blue and without any elaboration either, though a few seconds after saying this he'd at least provide something that resembled it.
"I can tell from the look in your eyes that you want to, so go. No reason for me to keep you here. My advice? Don't be so generous that you'd inadvertently rob yourself of the share that you earned." Abruptly, he would stand up and settle the price with the bartender, then without any warning walk away from the entourage he'd brought here and leave the bar. Off to lurk in the corners of the House where the law's reach faltered and his began.
On indefinite hiatus because the current state of gameplay sucks - ping me over discord if replies are needed
"And off he goes," Beige commented with a laugh. He slapped Olivia on the back and leaned in close. "You sure know how to pick 'em. Hah!"
Olivia shrugged him off and slipped off of her stool. Morreti continued to be near impossible to read. Not that she was particularly inclined to give it a proper effort - he was a strange, dangerous man, and she felt little urge to dive any deeper into his psyche than absolutely necessary. However, she had the feeling that this wasn't going to be their last meeting. Somehow, fate always found a way to keep their lives intertwined of late.
She turned around to face Beige, still sitting on his stool, broadly grinning at her.
"Don't you have a wife to report to?" Olivia taunted. How the clown had managed to convince a woman like Kelly to marry him was a mystery she would never comprehend.
Beige raised his whiskey to his lips and smashed the remains in a single gulp, then leapt off his stool.
"Yep, guess I oughta get back to her!"
"Give her my regards."
Beige guffawed loud enough to turn most of the heads in the bar and grasped Olivia by the shoulder.
"Sable," he said, catching his breath, "if I told her I was out here with you, she'd be pissed as hell." With another friendly pat, he strode past her and towards the exit, erupting again into laughter as he went. Olivia waited for him to disappear around the corner, then headed out herself, towards the hangars. It was time for her to leave and return to more civilized society - if Liberty could be regarded as such.
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