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The docking clamps engage with a pneumatic hiss, sealing the two ships together. As the pressure vents and the airlock disengage. Robert steps into the Argo, keeping one hand on his gun, just in case. After all, their last meeting had been… somewhat less than friendly.
Upon seeing Savannah waiting for him, he forces himself to look casual, outstretching his arms as if to give a gift. After a tense moment, he speaks.
"Well I'll be damned, if it ain't the Mad Dog herself." He says, in a tone bordering on genial.
Savannah, standing in the foyer of the airlock, simply stares at Robert with icy mistrust in her eyes. She speaks in a flat, controlled tone, clipped and angry.
"Why you slimy, double-crossing, no-good swindler.” She says, “You got a lotta guts coming here, after what you pulled."
For a moment, panic flashes through Robert's eyes, wondering if this was a bad move. However, he quickly twists his face into the picture of perfect innocence- or at least as close as his scarred, leathery mug could get, and points two fingers at his chest as if to say "who, me?"
For a long, stretching moment, Savannah keeps his gaze, sending a bead of sweat running down his back, and his hand inching towards his gun - until with a barking roar, she starts laughing, walking over and slapping Robert on the shoulder before embracing him, all the while yelling,
"How you doing, you old pirate! It's so good to see you! What've you been up to?" and a dozen other questions.
After a moment of shock, and a quick glance at the ceiling, as though thanking his lucky stars that he wasn't shot on sight, he returns the smile.
"I'm still on the right side of the dirt, ain't I? How about you? Last time I saw you, it was from the cockpit. You seem to be doing alright for yourself. Hell, your little duckling is running the whole damn SLDF, what's up with that?" As he speaks, he rebuckles his holster
"She got lucky. And honestly, it's where she needs to be. That woman knows enough about the old days of the Star League, that maybe, just maybe, they can avoid some of the shit they did wrong last time," she sighs. "As for me, I've been all right. Recovering from the Battle of Terra. Trying to pick up work again after a couple decades sitting on our asses inside the Fortress Wall."
"Well, there's plenty of work to be found, I can tell you that. This Helios business ought to set me up nicely for the next few years, give me a nice security net so I'm not jumping at every shitty job that comes my way." He smiles a wry grin, before affecting a look of faux concern.
"Say, ain't you a bit old to be gallivanting around the galaxy these days? I mean, at your age, you'd ought to be thinking about retirement, a pension plan, a nice little house in the suburbs with a picket fence, maybe, eh?"
"Please, Robert, I'm consort to the late Queen Mother of the Aurigan Coalition, remember?" she admonishes him. "I've got a palace I can retire to whenever I want, a whole big loving royal family of my kids and grandkids to go be with. But this is just too fun," she chuckles.
"Eh, I'll pass. Palaces and families, ugh." He shudders for effect."Don't make me puke. Still, seeing someone in our line of work with what I'd almost call a happy ending... does me good. Gives me some hope that I've got something waiting for me aside from an unmarked grave." He trails off before bringing his thoughts back in line. "So, you here for the party? I figure you've got some scores to settle with the Blakies."
"I'd bet almost everyone does, yeah. After what they did in the Jihad? I almost felt like loading nukes into the Arrow IVs." They both chuckle, until Robert claps her on the shoulder.
"Shit, I'll tell you what I told Birdbrain: when it's Blakies, the war crimes don't count."
"Oh, in general I agree. Just apparently we're not allowed to. Something about SLDF regulations and Ares Convention compliance."
"Hmph. Fuckin' bureaucrats. Shit like this is why I signed on with Ma in the first place."
"Interesting you consider Melissa a bureaucrat. She's the one that made that determination."
He scoffs derisively. “You think she'd say it if she didn't have bureaucrats yanking her chain? Or the legacy of Star League bogging her down? We're trying to live up to people that died before we were born, using ancient rules to fight an enemy that wouldn't hesitate to break them on us if given half a chance."
"She's got contingencies for if the Blakies break out the bombs," Savannah says matter-of-factly, "but I think what she wants is to make sure none of us go off the chain. Which makes a lot of sense when you think about it."
Robert chuckles. "Guess she knows us all a little too well, huh?"
"You maybe. I don't even have any nukes. I was gonna jack 'em from the SLDF stockpile," she smirks. "Doesn't look good for an Aurigan noble to possess WMD when the state has forsworn them except in existential crisis."
"Now, now," says Robert "I don't think I like what you're implying. I, Robert Harwood, upstanding and honorable member of the interstellar community, would never possess three strategic fusion warheads, and frankly, I'm offended by the insinuation."
"Sure. Like the one you definitely didn't smuggle out of the Free Worlds League disguised as a... what was it again? "'Mech sized lava lamp", that was it," she says, chuckling. "You're about as honorable and upstanding as a Capellan chancellor with advanced arthritis."
Robert takes on a look of anger. "Hey now. Calling me a crooked, dishonorable son of a bitch is one thing..." He takes a step closer and points in the vague direction of her chin, "but comparing me to a Capellan is a step too far!" Robert cracks a smile. "If we weren't such good friends. I'd blast you to hell where you stand."
"Lucky we are, you son of a bitch," she smiles. "I'm still the faster draw, though. And with the heavier pistol," she sticks out her tongue at him.
"When you're right, you're right." Says Robert. "But I found somebody that might even give you a run for your money. Some stuck-up House Steiner fop, but damn, can that kid shoot."
"In a 'Mech?" she asks, interest piqued.
"No, though I have it on good faith his sister could give you a run for your money in that arena. But if you and him came to a draw... I'd say it's a 50/50 split who'd end up dead."
"Interesting. On both counts," says Savannah. "I'll have to meet them then."
"If the rumor mill is to be believed, all you need to do to find the sister is find Birdbrain. If the grapevine is correct, you'll barely see them apart these days."
"Heh. That tracks.” she says. “Melissa always had a thing for hot Spheroid noblewomen. Especially if they were also a 'Mech pilot."
"Well," Robert says. "That's all well and good for her. Mech pilots are too high-strung for me."
"Hmm. I noticed you still haven't found anybody. Again. You're too picky." She says, picking at his rumpled duty uniform as if to point out his grimy clothes.
Once again, he resumes his strange finger pointing, as if he intends to poke her in the throat.
"Hey, you know why I'm not interested, and I know you do. We spent 30 minutes crying about it over a bottle of scotch on Arcturus."
"I know, I know, Robert," she says, the teasing tone gone from her voice. "But it's just... I'm your friend, I want you to be happy, and I know it would make you happy, sasa ke? I'm not teasing, I'm serious."
Robert sighs, tired and bone-deep. "I know I'd ought to try and find someone, hell, a few years back, I even went on a couple of dates. But then... I just see him, staring up at me... I feel sick, and by the end of the night, I'm emptying my guts in the toilet."
She wraps one arm around him in a half-hug, the most he's ever allowed.
"You'll get there, Robert. I know it."
After a long moment, Robert scoffs and pushes Savannah away.
"Get the hell off of me, you damn mutt. Gonna give me fleas." Despite his rough tone, the blush under his stubble and scar tissue give him away.
"Heh. You're slipping. That was five seconds. Used to be less than one," she teases him, in a tone that says "I'm joking, okay, but I'm actually happy about this".
"Eh. Getting sentimental in my old age, I guess. Can't stay sharp forever, right? Even if I don't age quite so quickly as the rest."
"Body might not age so fast," she teases, tapping his temple playfully with two fingers, "but the old electric jello up there's been knocked around so much, who knows what you might start doing next. Charity? Feeding the homeless? Showing any sympathy at all for Capellans? Who knows?"
With a bark of laughter, Robert punches her shoulder, playfully growling something about the only good Capellan being a dead one. And so, the conversation continues, petering off into meaningless small talk and old recollections of days now long gone. But in the quiet moments- the gaps in conversation that can’t quite be filled by decades of acquaintance, Savannah could see the hurt lurking, just underneath the surface. And as she watches the dull hurt lurking in his eyes, she hoped, as she always had, that he’d find someone to help him heal.