"Carter, good to see you, and under much more civilized terms."
They had last met after repulsing a Kusari offensive, leaving little time for small talk.
Jacob took a seat at the bar stool. Blake asked "Need a drink?"
Jacob nodded "Aye"
"Bartender, a scotch for myself and the commander, if you will."
While the drinks were being poured Jacob asked Blake where the birthday girl was. Neither one knew but both agreed that she would pass through the bar eventually, so they should stay there for awhile and cut themselves off from the aristocrats in the ball room.
"Keeping ourselves away from senile ninety-year-old nobles asking for tales of the front and telling me how to win the war is a sacrifice I must make. I hope you will stay with me and endure, Mr. Carter."