She's drinking at the bar when the guy comes up behind her. Sticks his hand between her legs and tells her that he has something hard he wants to shove inside her, split her in two; teach her how to not be so uppity when someone offers her a great opportunity.
Turning slowly, she runs one hand up his arm, starting where his heel of his hand presses hard against her pelvis. She leans in, moans and gives her hips a little shift as she moves in close. "I know what you mean, honey, 'cause I got something hard for you too," she says breathlessly, reaching down between them. His eyes widen and he tries to move away, she moves with him and adds just enough pressure to the knife where the business end rests against his balls. "Tsk. Don't move. Don't wanna cut yourself."
He shakes his head quickly in agreement.
Jerking her arm up, the knife slices through the material and flesh like butter and he falls on the floor. She takes a step back as he quickly bleeds out, hating to get (more) blood on the soles of her boots. She looks to the small crowd of shocked patrons and shrugs. "Didn't mean I wasn't gonna cut." Finishing her drink, she throws a couple coins on the bar and walks out before anyone decides to get it in their head to call the local sheriff.
There's nothing on this world to keep her here anyway. No information, no Jaffa left out in the cold ready and willing (desperate) enough to trade. Not that she has much in the way of trade anyway and it pisses her the fuck off that a piece of ass doesn't work on them the way it does on the typical yahoo off the street. Oh well. What's a girl to do if she can't fuck to get what she wants?
Her gun is fully charged and the piece of shit she calls a ship is all fueled up and ready to go. Time to hit the next stop on the trail to oblivion. Good thing she also has plenty of rotgut to drink.