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[sub][centre][@6slyboy6][/centre][/sub]

[colour=A4221A][i]Let go of the..? Motherfucker…[/i][/colour] As Captain Oliver spoke the words, Reva’s eyes got colder and harder. [colour=A4221A]”That. Wasn’t. The. Deal.”[/colour] She said quietly, an iron hard edge to her voice. [colour=A4221A]”You said, a hundred Dits for each dead man…”[/colour] As she spoke, a hand strayed to her belt, not to the grip of her pistol but to the handle of a large knife. [colour=A4221A]Remember my words dockside when I cut you loose?[/colour]

She gave every impression of being about to strike, when she stopped, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her hand stopped moving, balling into a fist so tight that her weathered knuckles went white for a moment, before relaxing and dropping back to her side. Her eyes opened and she stared at Oliver once again. [colour=A4221A]”I [i]dislike[/i] being dicked around,”[/colour] She said after a moment. [colour=A4221A]”But my desire to get the fuck outta this ville outweighs everything else.”[/colour] The edge to her voice was fading, but it was plain that she was distinctly unhappy. [colour=A4221A]”I’ll take the job, you keep the Dits, but [i]this[/i] doesn’t happen again…savvy?”[/colour]

Staring at Capt. Oliver for a moment longer, Reva turned away and moved deeper into the [i]Magnificent[/i] in search of a place to store her gear.