She turned her gaze away from the man, tapping the armored fingers of her left hand on the table, she coughed a moment, a stream of crimson that looked almost black on her ghoulish complexion streamed down from the corner of her left lip, almost out of his view entirely, at least until it landed on her left hand, to which her fingers ceased tapping, and her gaze shifted down, wiping the blood onto her armored arm, probably explaining some of the rust on her suit. "I left Liberty during the nomad war, friends went missing, family was gone. Ironically, It was safer closer to the nomads in the Omicrons than it was in the colonies. I developed a hatred for them, began hunting a being I couldn't even comprehend. I loved it, the revenge for what they had done."
Onyx looked down at her now bloodied and disrespected armor, before glancing to the man, a strange sense of being able to confide in someone she probably wouldn't see again, and wouldn't tell a soul. She watched him for a moment, barely understanding why he sat this long talking to some random on a freeport. She decided to continue, drawing a comparison. A strong sense of discomfort and disgust evident in her tone.
"That's why I'm here.. there have been sightings in the whole eastern part of this system of strange ships, sporting unknown weaponry, and even nomads themselves on occasion, they're drawn by something, and I am in turn drawn to them. Though I find the more I fight them, the more I run from my past, the more I sink into my hatred, the more like those "things" I become. And in turn, the more like the machine I become. That's how they infiltrated Liberty so deep in the first place, they simply did what Liberty had already been doing for hundreds of years. Not a soul noticed."
He shook his head from side to side but only ever so slightly, it wasn't as if he was refusing to believe what she'd just told him but that he didn't find her to be efficient about it. "If you're killing them to kill your past, you won't be doing a good job of it coughing up crimson." A certain aspect of what she'd told him also rang out as foolishness, and he felt it was only fair that he expressed that if she was going to tell him about it.
"And even if you do get your act together, not much you can do in the grand scheme of things. You're hunting things that are more resourceful than you are, so unless you're satisfied with doing the sum total of nothing, then you need to find people to have your back. And if you can't escape the trauma of your past, good, because there's no better fuel for fire." Even if she didn't ask for advice, he still had some to give. But naturally he was confused why he of all people was being confided in, especially when the details were personal and of importance to the person across the table.
Onyx smirked, tilting her head to glance to the man as if seeing an old friend in him with the way he responded, before returning to staring over the bar, taking a final swig of the whiskey, of which she held down well without any change in complexion or behavior. "You have a pretty polite way of calling someone stupid." Her arms crossed and she fell silent as if in thought, before her face returned to its usual dead expression, and she spoke again.
"Perhaps it's the habit of rebellion that I push myself so hard to avoid losing." She spoke on his note of her blood, in truth, it was the opposite, she was running so fast toward her past it was killing her. Onyx lifted her hand to get a top off for the stranger's drink, usually a form of winning favor, though the tone indicated some sort of apology. The woman placing her glass away from her to indicate she was finished with it, turning her gaze over the bar again.
A nod was all he offered upon seeing her gesture for his drink to be topped up, a fairly rudimentary droid handled that process and at least didn't spill any of the fizzy contents when pouring it out into his glass. "The end message of all the politeness is that you're being foolish. But if you're able to at least see that, then you're not a lost cause." Having said this he shrugged, not even intending to give her directions on what she could or should do. It wasn't his place and if he was entirely frank he didn't care, you couldn't change a person's nature past a certain threshold.
"If you want an extra set of guns, call. I'm in the area, I'll do what I can." It wasn't a grand offer, but it was more than what the average stranger would consider putting on the table. He must have had experience with that particular field of hunting himself, otherwise his boldness would just be a full circle back to the idea of foolishness.
Onyx blinked a moment as if in disbelief from the offer, though non-typical of being caught off guard, she didn't hesitate in behavior, she simply tilted her head to the left to look down at her forearm, lifting the suit's plating to reveal a few buttons and a small screen, she then moved her arm toward the stranger ever so slightly, so that he could see it from the corner of his eye. The display reading off her ships signature and identification codes, a Waran, as well as a Raven's Talon, along with the name "Onyx" "You won't hesitate to get a return on that favor I trust."
Again, he shrugged in response to what she told him. "I don't need anything from you. The extra drink was a nice enough return." This was partially true, he didn't really need or want anything from her, and he also sincerely doubted there was anything she could provide that would be useful to him. But then again, making a deal here wasn't what he was doing, he was offering help free of any terms and conditions. Or at least it seemed like he was.
Onyx chuckled a bit, the stranger was an amusing puzzle, one she was perhaps not smart enough to unwind, or simply not observant enough. All the same however, it wouldn't sit right with her if she didn't repay a gesture that could possibly save her life in the cold void. "I'm aware you don't need it. If you have my back, then I want to have yours. Fair?"