"I know." Miles grins unapologetically. Ah, Bel's fine, he knows it. It wouldn't be funny if they weren't. He leans forward with one elbow on the bar, lightly sipping at his own tumbler with an insufferably smug look on his face. Cruel, yes, but totally worth it just for the look on their face.

"Well," he starts expansively, once Bel has recovered, "I'm sure you've heard the basics. The Cetagandans struck just a scant couple of decades after the end of the Time of Isolation, besieged the entire planet... Some districts surrendered, some Vor collaborated, even -- most went to ground and found some line to hold, somewhere or the other. But Cetaganda hit Vorkosigan's District hard -- and the only line we could hold was the Dendarii. For twenty long years, my grandfather -- General Count Piotr Pierre Vorkosigan -- held the Dendarii mountains against the Cetagandans. Waged guerilla warfare like hell. And used some dirty tricks to do it, too."

There is a definite note of family pride in Miles' voice, layered in with those smug notes. He grins over the lip of his glass at Bel and takes another sip, managing to mostly swallow his cough. Ah, maple mead. Tastes like home.