Induct yourself an adjutant, one you can trust, and secretarial busywork will never hound you again. Between ourselves, that's an industry secret. Steady, Doctor, I would be loath to suggest you induct me...!

Hip-hip to Rhodes Island's young generation. They can fight and they can imbibe, my goodness. But youth's folly is ignorance, you see: they don't know all's fair in love and war, they never caught me diluting my drink! Bah-hah-hah-hah-, my head... Doctor, if you'd hurry. Fetch me a sobering physic.

Hah, what talent General Hellagur's girl possesses! I'd gladly have the youths here make a friend of her sometime. All the while my daughter plays the contrarian, but she at least heeds her father's wise words. Hm? To speak of which, Doctor, that letter you're holding... Excuse me? Incorrect address? Returned to sender?

Good girl, no fear, just a little more... Doctor! Yes, like that, stroke the girl on the neck there, softly, gently, let her know you're there for her, you love her... well done, girl, now push! I see the child coming! It's a stupendous little burdenbeast lad!

Will! Charles! Funny business, they've vanished. What? They're off playing drinking games again? They had the nerve not to invite me...?! So be it, let them drink. All the years they've been company to me, the old fellows, and what have they gained? A riddling of scars and chronic pains, too pernicious for me to cure. How can I blame them, now they've so little but tipple for pastime.

War stories? No, no, no, a richness of topics I could be your partner in. Why one of such sensitive dearth? I've said my piece on it—the battlefield lingers in your Sunday lapel like a bad odor, and never comes clean even should you change your suit. No, what say we talk of something else, Doctor?

I've partaken of fine foods across the land, but in my lowly opinion, only in the bosom of hometown, amidst the throng of locals, can you taste the most essential delicacy. This fondue tells such a tale. You'd like a travel guide from me? Hah-hah, very well, as you wish. To be asked for a work so dear to my passions is my honor.

You have a most vorpal gaze to recognize this pipe's Gaulish make. It was seized by my father's commander in the Battle of the Four Emperors, a spoil accorded to my father, then—bless his resting soul—it was handed down to me. Some decades it's spent crossing the fields of war. You'll even note the lost segment along the shank, much as I've lost a leg.

Hush, Doctor. We shouldn't forget that I'm an officer to Victoria when all is said and done. Befriend me you may, and depend on me, but never should you drop your guard, nor tell me too much. Should the worst come to pass, it would spell the end of our continued association... and with my age, I'd fold under the regret.

Don't watch your health now, and you'll certainly curse yourself when you're old.

Here I thought they'd finally given me hard labor on the borders, and yet... I wonder if the Empire's deigning to smile on me? Oh, where are my manners? You, then, should be my commanding officer from hereon? I render you my services as a plain medical officer.

Combat that would emphasize the individual's strengths... What revelation.

Could it be? Is this in recognition of my surgeon's abilities? This means far more to me than a higher title ever could.

I feel I could return home and open a practice right this instant. In fact, I plan to be off on the morrow. Hoh-hoh, yes, I'm pulling your leg. I tell you, I could have found no greater place than here to retire.

Me? Surely I'm not about to be an accomplice in your sunbathing schemes?

Attention, good fellows. Your only obliged consideration is how you survive. Agreed?

Good fellows, let us think of happier things. If I may: how about something nice to eat after this operation?

Be a little courteous to our guests, boys and girls.

At your service.

I trust your plans are drawn.

Great minds think alike.

What fine scenery. A shame about the fighting.

Fall in! I hereby command!

No soldier may cower in the field!

All casualties, retreat! All others, cover!

I say this once, protect your own lives first! I'll bear the onus!

Outstanding peace talks! As I always say—bloodshed can spoil anything. Best we remain amicable.

I see I'm deprived of a chance to practice my surgery! A marvelous regret to have.

You say I've 'held back', do you? Hah-hah-hah, piffle! Don't you worry.

To admit our own defeat is a form of virtue.

Mm-hrmm. Doctor, your tastes are... comparatively maverick.

Oh? Are you angling to swipe my cane?

Oh, Doctor! Would you care to take a stroll with me?

Arknights.

Goodness, how saintly is our Doctor that you would worry I be devoid of companionship, let alone ask after me? Hah-hah-hah, but a Happy New Year. Yes, lest I forget, my family chances to trip to Rhodes Island in a couple of days, and I'd be remiss to not personally invite you to our household dinner.

Tally-ho, Doctor. Your presence suggests today will be a fine day indeed.

Being of two different stations, some things I can't tell you, nor could you I. But there is one point we needn't doubt—we both are fed up with war. I imagine that's more than enough reason we might sit down together, open and honest, and share a drink.