"Good," she replied immediately. "I didn't mean to hang on to it longer than necessary." She stepped forward, letting the door shut behind her. Her eyes wandered about the quarters with mild disdain. "Sure made a mess," she observed matter-of-factly as she stooped over to pick up some papers that lay strewn across the floor. She glanced at what was printed on them - apparently a list of supplies to be acquired. Shrugging, she stacked them neatly and placed them back on the ground, out of the way.
"You know, you could've just given me directions to this little hole of yours," she spoke as she casually wandered around the room, looking around the mayhem with feigned listlessness. "Then at least I'd have my ship nearby." Her tone made it clear that she wasn't happy with the hoops she'd had to jump through to get here.
Olivia glanced at Moretti out of the corners of her eyes, trying to get a read on his current mental state. She understood that he was upset about what had happened to Sal - regardless of how uninterested he liked to be make himself out to be - but she wasn't sure she wanted to spend too much time around a man who had clearly taken a step off the deep end with frustration or grief. Or perhaps a mixture of both. Either was volatile enough on its own.
He frowned thoughtfully and reached a hand to his face, pinching at the bridge of his nose and taking a moment to compose himself for the sake of keeping up with his reputation. Slicking his hair back so that it wasn't occupying most of his forehead, he looked up at her directly and answered as would be usually expected of him, cold and dangerously close to being curt. "Can't afford to trust somebody like you with the knowledge of where exactly a place like this is. It would hurt the movement too much, it's not like you're on our side. You asked to be here for Sal, now you're here, I didn't ask you to be. You could have stayed in the Sigmas like a little rat, wouldn't have made a difference to me. You're an experienced merc, used to rough conditions, suck it up. I'd prefer if we didn't waste time on idle chatter right now." Certainly more aggressive than he usually was, for a moment it almost sounded like he was hurt. He was strange when like this, so relatable and yet so alien in how he seemed to experience and handle emotions, nonetheless he was thoroughly inclined to focus on 'business' and find out who was to blame for Sal.
Olivia's eyes narrowed and her neck tensed up. It seemed reconciliation remained off the table. But making up with Moretti wasn't why she had come in the first place, so she would do as she intended and help the Xeno figure out who was behind Sal's murder. Then, as far as she was concerned, any debts she owed him would be paid and she could leave this ugly chapter of her life behind for good and hopefully never have to deal with this lot of insurgents again. She turned to face the snake head-on, arms akimbo, her jaws locked.
"Let's have it then," she snarled through her teeth. "What clues have you gathered?"
For a moment he looked away and thought to himself, likely realizing that he'd been far too abrasive with somebody clearly trying to mend a misunderstanding. For an even briefer moment he considered apologizing, but there was no point in making a gesture which wouldn't be well received in the moment. Instead he was direct. "Mole managed to get himself on the inside of a racket, his sergeant is at the head of this. Together, they are all actively concealing any and all evidence and doing their best to ensure this looks like a suicide. The sergeant goes by the name of Desmond Price, clearly he has one. We need to get him to tell us who's paying it. The complication is that he plans to retire on his money and he's staying hidden away in his house, using some hired muscle to make sure he's safe. Can't just bomb his zip code, but subtlety takes time and we don't have it." When he stopped speaking his gaze seemed expectant, it was likely she had input to offer or something in the way of an idea as to how brute force could be circumvented. There had to be an angle he had failed to consider.
She averted her eyes, thinking for a moment. Wrangling an LPI employee for information hadn't been on her bucket list. For a moment she considered suggesting they use what limited contacts she had in the police, but she banished the thought almost immediately. There was no way Olivia would get her involved. Instead, a different angle entered her mind.
"This muscle," she muttered, "are they just local lackeys or perhaps a group I might know?" If they were the latter, she might be able to make contact with them, carefully pry them for any information that might get Moretti and herself closer to the sergeant. If they instead were the former, she could imagine a slight increase in pressure on Price entice him to employ additional security - at which point Olivia would hand in an application.
Without much thought as to a response, Morreti shrugged. "I doubt you know any of them, I'd certainly never heard of these people before. They're just locals looking for quick cash, mostly outsiders too." The way he even mentioned the word 'outsider' came across with a palpable sense of disgust. He truly had no affection for meddlers in any capacity, people that did not belong were best left at their place of origin rather than in Liberty. Still, Olivia seemed like she had something in mind, hopefully something good. "Why?" A direct prompt in hopes she'd present him with whatever angle was taking shape in her head.
"Well," she spoke softly, "in that case, I suggest you do something to really spook the sergeant," She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "With any luck, he'll look for additional men - and women - to protect him. And that's when I offer my humble services. I get close enough to him to get him to talk to me and a little charm should make him spill the info we need." She cocked her head, waiting for Moretti's response to what she believed was a relatively clever idea.
Her words prompted him to grin fiendishly, no attempt at restraint for how appealing the idea of perhaps murdering a few nobodies on a payroll was. Everyone he killed deserved it as far as Morreti was concerned, and he enjoyed the rush and the challenge more than he enjoyed even living, because it was only when his life was truly being threatened that it became most apparent that he had one. "I can arrange for that. But there's not much I can do to help you once you're on the inside, so once you get what I need to know you need to work out an exit for yourself. Once you're out I can get in touch with you again, can't risk raising any suspicions that you might be helping me." He wanted to add something but visibly hesitated before eventually spitting the words out. "Good thinking, it's a sound plan and I think under that kind of pressure, Price will be eager to take all the help he can get." Finally, Morreti would rise to his feet. Although immediately upon doing this he stumbled and spent a few moments straightening himself back out, likely dizzy from having been seated for an extended period of time or not eating properly. In either case, he retrieved his helmet and started heading for the door, as if he was preparing to leave.
Olivia raised an eyebrow in mild surprise at Moretti's sudden transformation from a pitiable mess to a man with bloodthirsty purpose. A part of her hoped she hadn't just awoken too great a monster - sending Price into a panic would only serve to scare him off the planet altogether, making it exponentially more difficult to gather any intel from him. But she shrugged at the thought. Ultimately, whether they succeeded in solving this case or not was of little importance to her, as long as she did her part.
She turned towards Damian as he strode past her and held out a hand in front of him, halting him in his tracks. "I'm going to need gear," she explained, pointing vaguely at the ill-fitting suit and serpent's mark she was wearing. "I can hardly apply for a job looking like this. And all my personal belongings are back on Ames." She smirked at him. "I'm sure your people can put together something appropriately... mercenary for me."
It was mildly frustrating to be stopped so abruptly when walking with a purpose, but he seemed to tolerate it if only because it would lead to something productive, he looked directly ahead at the door and didn't give her any direct attention. "The mark will keep people here on good terms with you, go see the equipment vendor and requisition what you might need. They won't ask you much in the way of questions beyond size, length, caliber and materials. But keep in mind we aren't spoiled for choice as far as good gear goes." With an evidently sarcastic degree of politeness, he gesture with a flair of the hand for her to let him pass, and given the chance he would be out of the room in a moment's notice. It wasn't clear what he had in mind to get Price motivated, but if he was grinning then it would likely be sufficient for Olivia to exploit. "I'll be back in a few hours, do what you need to do by then, just be ready." Putting his helmet into place gave him a different aura, the matte black surface decorated by shining red and white drew focus to sharp and focused eyes, malicious machinations no doubt occurring behind them.