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Shinkaku is never quiet. It is always filled with miners, with businessmen. The crumped corridors are full, and even the large installation that is Shinkaku only has room for two areas that could be called a "bar". One, the "MTaSB", which is not really creatively named, is the one where most deals are struck. But that's not where you went.
You went to section R-12. With Shinkaku being a quite big station, there come many... Unused areas, hallways without any supervision or forgotten storage areas that should have been removed or repurposed years ago, but for some not perfectly obvious reason still are powered and operational. The way down here was full of dust, and weren't it for the strict hygiene on Kusari stations, you are sure that there would have been cobwebs everywhere. No one goes here. At least not without a reason.
The room is actually kind of big and empty, given the fact that it is a bar and should therefore be crowded as hell, but no, actually only three of the benches are used and the barkeeper is talking with another guest, cleaning the bar and generally seems not that stressed.
As you set foot in the room, the few voices stop. Everyone looks to you, mustering you from head to toe. Two men, wearing old KNF uniforms with Obi-Belts, carrying their swords openly (You are sure that they don't do so out of this room, but here, they look quite menacing.) seem to evaluate if you are a threat, and then move on to stare at the entrance.
You notice that almost everyone here wears the insignia of a Samurai of the old imperial Navy. There is nothing stopping people from visiting here if they have no business with them, but it generally seems like they don't accept Gaijin here - although it is more a general atmosphere than an outspoken fact.
You step to the bar, taking a look around. It is ghostlike, with everyone looking at you, but as you turn to the barkeeper to order a drink, the conversations slowly begin to start again.

Hitomi looks surprised at first, then a bit angry. The collision with the young pilot spilled her just now ordered drink over her shoes, as her reflexes had allowed a short jump backwards, to protect the fresh uniform.
She looks to Mori. Her eyes seem to fixate him, and for a short moment you could even believe her to be taller than the young man.
The moment she looks at him seems to be long, and every person in the immediate vicinity steps back a bit, awaiting the Admiral to yell at Mori, as she is known to be quite a harsh leader, especially when disturbed.
Instead of yelling at him or losing her temper, she begins to speak. Quietly, almost whispering, but every person in the vicinity hears it.

"Mori-Kun. I see you're enjoying yourself."

Every word drips like melting ice from her lips, managing to be intimidating without even a single raising of her voice. She stems her arms onto her hips, apparently imitating a gesture she seems to have seen in Bretonia or at least somewhere more western, and awaiting Mori's response.

Quietly, the barkeeper moves into her direction, a new cup of Sake in his hand, possibly to calm Hitomi down.

Hitomi takes the Sake offered by the barkeeper, notices him and dismisses him (and his apologies) with a short nod, again looking at the young noble in front of her. And just as the silence becomes unbearable, she begins to speak again, fixating on Mori's Reaction and stepping a bit to the side, appearing to start circling around the man like a vulture around his prey.

"So. How exactly do you explain this, Mori-Kun?"

She doesn't say more, just continues to circle in small, slow steps, as if there is no reason to rush things. Her intention seems clouded, although the humiliation of Mori in front of the whole bar, even some of his subordinate officers, seems to be at least a part of it.

Back in the room, whispering starts. It's not loud, and not much, but the general silence makes it audible, although barely, so it isn't possible to tell who is whispering or about what.

Hitomi stops, a bit to the right of her subordinate. She just stands there taking a sip, watching the little pearls of sweat rinning down Mori's forehead. About a minute she just stands there, watching the young man, who is desperately trying to stand attention.

"And do you know what your mistake was?"

A very simple question, spoken in a tone of curiosity, but still not raising her voice.

The whispering in the background gets louder, more specific. Behind Mori's back, not visible for him, someone even points at him, giggling into his other hand - The player he just lost against. A short, frosty word from the man behind him, who got Tsuzumi's money, makes the player shut up faster than he started laughing, though.

It was like she had stepped into another world.

Leslie Durant glanced around the establishment with barely concealed interest. The core components of a bar were present, but the formula had been turned on it's head. The presence of armed men wearing swords was the biggest surprise to her, however.

What age are they living in...?

She shrugged, rolling her shoulders to accommodate an ache. In here, she'd stand out like a sore thumb, being both tall and obviously foreign. But it was the only good pitstop for hours in either direction, as the Nagasaki had nothing in the way of entertainment. Apart from the very stoic looking men and women.

That never gets old...

There is an altercation in progress on the other side of the room, but she pays it relatively little mind. She didn't come here to interfere in a bar brawl. Instead, she made her way to the Bartender, or what seemed like one at least.

"Just Sake," She said, knowing full well that it was the only thing they'd likely have any good stock of.