"I don't know," Olivia admitted, sounding annoyed. "Some bounty hunter. Fucker stabbed her on Freeport Six of all places."
There was yet another pause as she sighed.
"Do you know anyone by the name Mel Rose?" Olivia asked, but - before Morreti could answer - continued. "Ran into her in Tau Twenty-Nine a few weeks back. Seemed to know about me. Ran into her again earlier, just outside Ouray. Turns out to be a friend of Haze's. She told me what'd happened. And she was a bitch about it, too." Irritation practically dripped out of the communicator.
The name was familiar, ringing at least a few bells before it finally struck him. "Rose, spoken to them exactly once. Had them same pretentious business aura to them, like they watched one too many holos about the art of sealing the deal. Think they're related?" While he'd started that sentence out with sarcasm, it quickly became apparent that his tone had fluctuated into one of genuine curiosity and consideration. After all, how had the stranger known exactly where to find them in Colorado?
"Like I said," Olivia answered, "Rose says they were friends. Hard to believe Haze had any, but they do seem to be made of the same pile of shit." The last statement was uttered as little more than a derisive hiss. "Rose said she inherited Haze's stocks or whatever, and something tells me Haze wouldn't just leave those to anyone."
Another pause.
"She said Haze told her about me. And that she'd liked me." The disgust at this was almost palpable over the line.
He coughed up his next sip after she finished that last sentence, a combination of amused and a little repulsed. "I take it that's the thing you actually wanted to talk to me about, or I guess just vent." He felt he needed to bring this up again since Olivia hadn't actually told him what was bothering her, beyond just being exceptionally annoyed and disgusted about the fact that something to do with Haze had come up.
"Just the whole thing's fucked up, Morreti," Olivia ranted. "The bitch tried to kill Isla and me several times and then, in some stroke of complete stupidity, I agree to grab a fucking coffee with her!" Her exasperation practically spilled over. "And instead of ramming a knife into her skull, I just let us part ways like old buddies! And now I find out that some jackass has gone and offed her in some hallway on a freeport. For god's sake!"
The line went quiet for a moment. Then, quieter, calmer, Olivia went on.
"She was an assassin. Exactly the sort of person I despise because I was forced to be one too often." She sighed. "If she liked me, what does that say about me?"
She'd hear him smirk through his response. "It doesn't say anything. I think you're giving the decisions of a dead person too much credit. Why does how they saw you matter at all? Do you really doubt yourself that much?" Maybe he was the right person to call, given the lack of judgement in his voice and the fact that he seemed to strongly support freedom of interpretation here. Sable was the monarch of her own skin, why she was trying to interpret the certainly deluded rationale of a dead fool was beyond him.
"Of course I doubt myself," Olivia snapped in response, then went quiet. A regretful sigh snuck its way over the comms. "Look," she went on after a moment's pause, "when you like someone, it's because you see a bit of yourself in them, right? So, Haze saw some of herself in me. And I really don't want to be anything like her."
There was the sound of rustling clothes as Olivia likely moved around her ship's interior.
"Besides," she said over what sounded like a locker opening and slamming shut again, "I really wanted to be the one to put her down."
The smirk was gone so far as his voice was concerned now, and while she spoke he had made his way back to bed and tried to relax. "People can choose to like you for the simple reason of deciding that was what they wanted. I respect you, and it's because you're not like me. So what gives?" He knew she was going to speak up again and try to disagree with him for saying this, so he made sure he beat her to the punch. "You're not like her, we wouldn't be talking if you were. But it is a shame, should have been you or me to twist the knife." The lighting in his room was starting to brighten up, there definitely wasn't going to be an opportunity to catch some more sleep before needing to get to work again.
The line remained quiet for an extended moment, the silence finally to be interrupted by the faint racking of a sidearm.
"Maybe I'm nothing like her now," Olivia finally replied. "But with what's going on with me, I'm afraid of the person I might become." She sighed again. "Maybe I'm just worrying too much," Olivia spoke quietly to the distinct sound of a magazine sliding out of a pistol grip. There was another pause.
"Thanks for the chat, Morreti. Sorry for waking you, babe." Olivia chuckled softly as the call ended.
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