(Speaking in confidence to a friend from another outpost; concerned about the future of Plainview) “I know that during our conversation on comms I painted a rosy picture of life here at Plainview, but that was because I had people listening over my shoulder. I didn’t want to alarm them. But the truth is... I don’t know how long we can hold on here. Every season our crops struggle. The yield gets lower year on year. Basic supplies are dwindling and there are fewer traders passing through nowadays.”

(An intruder has been found hiding in a ventilation shaft. They are armed and dangerous. Olga gives a steely ultimatum, voice raised) “Unless you wanna eat a frag grenade, I’d step out of there with your hands up! Go on, be quick about it!”

(Handing a weapon back to an intruder and she prepares to send them out into the wasteland. Voice is hard-edged, but with a strong sense of underlying compassion. She feels sorry for this traveller) “If I send you out there onto the plains with no weapon, I might as well just slit your throat right here and be done with it. Save us all some time. You won’t survive without it. There. Keep it close, friend. And stop wasting bullets. You’re going to need every last round if you ever intend to see the whitecaps crashing against the shore down there in Blackwater.”