Wisely, Kaiden had elected to eat a bit more and drink a modicum of water before he partook in any other alcoholic beverage. Despite his current companion enjoying a delectable Cinnibar vintage, brewed in 5026. It was one of the perks of being a Liuetant, after all. No non-commissioned officer could acquire a drink of this caliber from most military sanctioned barrooms such as the established they found themselves in, simply called the Black Kettle. It was mostly vacated save for a few off-duty MP's that seemed to be chatting up the bartenders as they cleaned shop. The lovely reported and Kaiden sat across from one another at one of the tall-tables beside one of the vaguely faint lights that were encased in faceted glass. So far she hadn't yet annoyed him, he only wished he were slightly more sober so he could delve back into being tipsy more easily. 

"And you were transferred to the Vicount so recently...interesting..." The woman often paused and idly bit her pen, jotting down notes so quickly it seemed an art form. He was content to simply sit there and enjoy the heated wheat loaf that had been provided to them while idly taking the smallest sips of the aged wine. "But there was little explanation as to why, I see. Other than the general mounting escalations of the relations between the Alliance and Cinnibar. I appreciate your candor, which is why I haven't asked you anything that might compromise you. But I am afraid I might need a bit more."

Kaiden chuckled, lounging on his chair as he watched her work. If they weren't expected to set out tomorrow at 0600, he would ask her to share a night with him. But he felt that was the drink taking advantage of his mind. It didn't do to mix with journalists, even one as smart and pretty as this. Then again, it didn't do to mix with fellow soldiers and he ignored that bit of advice. Maybe the taboo aspect was partly why he was drawn in? He pushed the thought away. "I'm afraid I don't have anything more, unfortunately. Unless you'd like my shoe size or my blood type. I would like to know where all of these basic military questions are being sent to. What was your network again?" 

"The Herculaneum Vault, network 5B on Island 67." She reiterated, sharp eyes switching to him again. "And I'm certain theres more. Maybe something personal?" Tilda began with a hinting smile. "Being a scion of the Caladwarden houseshold must have its share of secrets, and you're no fan of your father as you've said. Or Perhaps something a bit less domestic? You did jump on my offer when I told you of Liuetenant Sabatine. You were lovers, weren't you? Ah, the look says it all! I had not been informed relationships among officers was allowed in the navy, or was it simply frowned upon?" 

"I wasn't aware the Herculaneum Vault were into gossip columns," He shot back, amused. He took the last sip of wine he would have that night, for the 3rd time. "I didn't think you were that kind of woman either." 

"And what kind of woman am I?" 

"Intelligent...relentless if given the opportunity. None of which scream gossip columnist." He remarked, sitting up in his chair. He couldn't tell if it was the alcohol, his libido, or if he was truly impressed that led him to his next train of thought. Clearing his throat, he asked. "How much does the vault pay it's employees? Let me guess, enough? I'm leaving tomorrow. Find me when we make port again, and if you don't lie about your wage, I'll add 20% and ask for your services as my helper." 

"A servant?" She laughed incredulously, staring at him. "...You're serious? I mean, I'll think about it." She idly fixed her hair as if she was at a job interview, or speaking to someone she found attractive. Both was likely, he thought. 

"Just think on it. And do decide before I return. I doubt I'll be drunk the next time we meet." He told her, leaving money to pay the bill as he made his way out of the barroom and back to his quarters. He was going to have a hell of a day tomorrow.