"I have to admit, I half expected to see the green haired rascal with you," Lachlan said with a rye grin.
Mel cracked a smile herself.
"You know, I think the kid honestly expected to see herself here as well!" she laughed. "But you were pretty clear about 'members only,' so I didn't want to push my luck. If you're cool with it, I'll let Ida tag along next time. I know she'd love this place!"
"Well, no matter. The others are still not here, so pick your poison," Lachlan waved a hand over the table in the center of the room. "And take a seat, we'll probably have to wait a bit more."
"Honestly, I'd murder for a whiskey," Mel said.
Lachlan pointed out a fancy bottle of brown liquor sitting on the edge of the table opposite them. Mel nodded, wandered over to the far side of the table, and plopped down in one of the cushy chairs.
Mel had only begun pouring herself a double of whiskey when the Gallian walked in.
"Bonsoir. It is a pleasure to meet both of you finally in flesh. I am Vaako Daelon Gaheris, at your service," the man said in a sweeping formal gesture while extending a hand to Lachlan and then Mel.
"Nice to meet'cha!" Mel said, standing and reaching across the table to shake the Frenchman's hand.
There was a cautiousness to Vaako's formality that seemed oddly familiar to Mel, but it took her a few moments before she could place it. Kelvin, she thought to herself. Her old friend Kelvin carried himself in almost the exact same way as Vaako; greeting everyone with a smile and nod, but with body language that only barely betrayed years of living on the edges of space. To Mel's eyes, Vaako was a man who'd seen conflict and knew how to survive it.
Lachlan made the formal introductions between the two, and then the three of them settled into their seats and indulged in some idle chit-chat while they waited for the rest of the Irregulars to arrive.
* * *
A young Libertonian man, clutching an electronic cigarette, burst in through the lounge doors, a hollow look in his eyes. Mel couldn't exactly place his age. The man was gaunt, with a young boyish face, but had a full head of blonde hair that was so bright it almost appeared gray/white. Mel wouldn't have been surprised to learn that he was 20...or that he was 45. Either could have fit his description. But that wasn't what drew all the eyes in the room to the man's face.
“Greetings, people. I’m Tommy Epsetti, captain of Zero Space," he said, collapsing into one of the plush chairs. “Sorry for the lack of manners, but I’m just too tired. Last run for me was a nightmare, and I’m still processing what’s happened."
Mel had seen plenty of men and women with the same look in their eyes after getting front row seats to the various conflicts in the Texas System. Tommy was very clearly dealing with some kind of shell shock. Mel almost reflexively felt the need to reach out.
