Club Discordia, Sin's After Hours

[Mr.Fabulous]

The woman smiled weakly to Doc when he finally replied. A bitter-tasting, seemingly-forced smile, but a smile nonetheless. Sighing slowly and deeply in an effort to maintain her composure the best she could, she accepted the handkerchief, wiped the tears from her eye, and then placed her hands along with the cloth she held onto the table, her palms laid flat against the furniture.

While his initial statement served to lower her spirit, his follow up of a slight chance of a terraforming prospect on a planet as hostile and barren as Crete still being possible came as quite a shock to her! For so long has the belief been ingrained into her psyche that Crete was considered nigh-unchangeable, and here was someone... the very first someone she's ever met, in all her life, who's ever challenged that 'fact'. She beamed so happily she could have jumped on the table and victory-danced like a crazy, drunk gringo, and she wouldn't have minded one bit!

Of course, she didn't, nor did the occasion deserve such. While the possibility was there, the bigger question was... would her people be in favor of it?

But before she could entertain that trillion-Credit question further, her ears picked up a question from Doc. And it was a question she always found hard to answer to. "Well... It's more complicated than that, Senor. I guess you could say I was forced to leave because I chose to live."

The woman closed her eyes and took a deep breath, the hand holding the handkerchief clenching into a tight fist as she painfully began, "Don't suppose you've heard of the Corsario term, Intocable? It means 'Untouchable' in Sirian. It's a term given to hermanos and hermanas who have shown great dishonor to the Empirio, and to their familias. They were treated almost as spitefully as gringos, and only almost because the Empirio still needed pilots as cannon fodder for the enemy."

She opened her eyes and looked bitterly at Doc as she continued, "As you can guess, I was... am one of those Untouchables. My great dishonor was... for cowardly fleeing from a major defensive against the Outcasts... leaving my amigos to die... and compromising the safety of Crete... But despite being Intocable, I continued to faithfully serve my people. I even believed I and some of the other Intocable were on a roll in redeeming our honor by how well we were doing, despite our lack of everything."

The woman lowered her head to the floor, her hands clenching tightly. "... But... There were those... that wanted to keep us in our place... never liked us. One day... Bounty Hunters Guild... They... They were..."

Memories of that grim, fateful day flooded her mind like it was just yesterday. That day when, in a matter of seconds, she had lost everything. Her ties to the Empirio. Her only closest amigos. Her very first lover. And almost her life. Her eyes shut tightly once again, a quick tear streak running down the corner of her right eye as she fought hard to hold back those images.

But after a few moments, they slowly opened again to the sounds of the waiter having arrived and placed the two patrons' orders on the table. A tall glass of Sparkling Water for Doc Holliday, and for the woman, a plate of red-tinted Chimichanga and what looked to be a tankard-full of some of the most evil-looking (and smelling) black, gray-frothing liquid Doc has ever seen.

The woman looked at the meal in front of her with a sad, broken expression. "Some days... I wish I hadn't run away from that battle. Some days, I wish I had died rather than lived an exile's life."

She picked the tankard with her free hand, and began to take a sip to drown her sorrows away.

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