[He wrinkles his nose somewhat comically, displeased and disbelieving that there's nothing more to know.]

Makes it feel like home? [he finishes. Maybe that was wrong. Miles can sympathize if it wasn't, however.] I've had a couple missions that made me vow to wring the neck of whoever was responsible for the lack of intel. That leads to people being killed, good people. [Something he obviously knows by experience, given the grave surety with which he says that.

As for the drinking... Well, Miles can't say he wasn't drinking at seventeen. Not excessively, since he was too busy doing such things as accidentally appropriating a mercenary fleet, but to be entirely honest, Miles has always done whatever he wants and he can't blame others for doing the same.]

I've been reliably and consistently informed that the Brazen Turtle is the place to be. Foreigner run, apparently, so perhaps friendlier to our woes than a local establishment.