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| - Coruscant: Republic Guard Headquarters - Commander's Office A wide dome, five meters tall in the center, this room is simple and at present, wholly unadorned. Glimmering white durasteel tiles the walls up to a bright light in the center of the ceiling. The floor is silver, and polished to a mirrored sheen. The room is nearly filled with a wide, 'C' shaped desk, open on the southeastern side facing the doors. The desk is made of a smooth silver durasteel, and its surface is inlaid with red paneling tastefully engraved with the sigil of the Republic before each of the red cushioned chairs that ring it. In the open center of the desk is a small cylindrical ridge set with a glowing blue holo-projector. The northwest end of the room holds a tall window behind the chair with the highest back. The window looks across a span of open air to the dome-roofed building of the Senate and the glittering City-scape beyond. The southeast end of the room houses a heavy set of blast doors. Menglor himself sits quietly in his office, as evening turns to dusk, and then dusk to darkness. He is working through the stack of data pads, reading them in a dilligent sort of manner, but it is obvious that his heart is not in it -- waiting for something else to happen. Waiting for Bri! Because everyone is, when it comes down to it. Ahem. The Guard Lieutenant appears at her commander's door, fist lifted to rap a brief announcement of her arrival before she drops her hand and tucks it with her other behind the small of her back. The Marhsal glances up as Briseis enters in, and a genuine smile touches upon his lips for a moment -- Menglor rising to his feet soon after. "Lieutenant Karakas," he drolls deeply, "on time as usual." He steps out in front of the desk here, and motions a hand towards one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Can I get you something to drink, Lieutenant?" He asks then, moving over to a nearby cabinet, which he opens -- pulling out a bottle of wine. "Sir," Briseis acknowledges, and the ghost of a her own smile settles briefly on her lips before her gaze moves, with no little surprise, to the opened cabinet. There is hesitation in her voice as she answers, "I-- certainly, sure. Whatever you're having would be lovely." "Very good, it's a very old bottle of Vanixian wine. I picked it up on Vanix II during a deployment there when I was a Captain." Explains Menglor deeply, drawing forth the bottle from his cabinet, and then moving back towards his desk. A pair of glasses already are sitting there, as if in preperation of this moment. The bottle is poured, and then a glass handed to the Lieutenant. "Well, Lieutenant... I wont beat around the bush. Your preformance of late has been stellar." Briseis moves forward a step or two, hands still held in a loose grasp behind her back. She blinks startlement at Menglor and dips her head in quiet denial. "Hardly that exceptional, sir. I do my job." "You're a very modest person, but needless to say ... I've been impressed." Continues Menglor in his usual deeply calm tones, offering a wave of his hand at Briseis' modesty. "From Infantry Assaults, Armor Command, to work as my Adjutant? You've done well. Very well infact." He finishes smoothly. "In fact you've done so well, that I would like to promote you to the rank of Captain." Briseis is struck by silence for a moment, brown eyes widened on Menglor before she finds her breath again to manage a gracious, "Thank you, sir." "I'm also going to speak with the Supreme Justice, and ensure that your application to the Coruscant Space Guard goes through." Menglor goes on to say, after taking a sip of his wine. "We'll see if we can't get you put in command of a Capital ship as well, unless of course you would feel more comfortable as a Squadron leader." The Marshal watches the young officer with interest. "Of course, with such a promotion there would be more responsibility, and if you don't feel that you can handle it? Let me know." At /that/, the flicker that is Bri's smile widens and settles with a deep warmth in her eyes, and she swallows briefly before she echoes a heartfelt, "Thank you, sir." A quick rush adds, "I'm certain I can handle it. You can rely on me, sir." Pleasure radiates from both expression and posture as she watches Menglor, clearly just barely restrained from something like a jump into the air and a shouted 'whoopee'. Or something like it, anyway. "I wouldn't thank me. I long for the days of being a Lieutenant, now that I am at the very top. They were much more simple times." He says wryly, crossing around to the back of his desk. He bends over slightly, and there is the sound of clanking metal and leather. Soon a black sword belt is revealed, complete with a black scabbard, and a ceremonial sabre -- much like the one Menglor is seen carrying oft times into battle or at other functions -- also held on the belt is a black holster which looks to carry a very fine and decorative sort of pistol. It is the sort of pistol an officer would carry. "In recognition of your new rank, I would like to present you with these symbols of it." The weapons are offered then to the new Captain. "I--" Briseis steps forward, unfolding her hands to stretch one toward the sabre across the desk, eyes wide and disbelieving. "Sir." She pauses for a moment, having to take a deep breath and swallow before she pulls her eyes up to him and manages, "Thank you. They're beautiful." "They are symbols, and they are tools. They symbolize your stepping into a command position, and in turn leaving behind your life as a young Lieutenant. They indicate to those who see you wearing such articles, that you are an Officer of the Republic Military, and should be accorded respect. Also, many an Officer has used them to take his own life if he feels he has failed the Military, and in turn regained his own honor by doing so." Says Menglor in an utterly serious voice. "They are tools as well. The sword is sharp, and must be minded, less it cut you. The Pistol is one of the finest that money can buy, and will kill others easily." Bri's head bobs though Menglor's speech, punctuating points here and there with understanding or agreement. At the end she answers with a bowed head, voice quiet. "Of course, sir. I will mind them well." The Marshal seems satisfied. He has little more to add, so he rises to his feet once more from where he sat on the edge of the desk. He turns to that bottle of wine, and sticks the cork back into it. A moment later he hefts the bottle into his hand, and turns back towards the Captain. "And one last gift, Captain. A fine bottle of Vanixian wine. Take it back to your mates in the barracks, and celebrate your promotion. Congratulations, and you are dismissed unless you have something to add." "No, sir," Briseis responds, but there's a grin flitting about her features now as she dips her head. "I'm certain everyone will be very grateful. Will you come have a glass with us?" "Captain, I wish I could. Unfortunately, my work for the evening is not yet finished, and everyone always acts different when the commanding officer is around." Menglor admits smoothly, a smile lingering yet on his placid features. "It is, as some say, lonely at the top. Besides, I am becoming a grouchy old man. Now, go and enjoy that glass." "Hardly grouchy or old," Briseis disagrees instantly, twisting the bottle in her hands for a moment. "Are you certain you won't? There will be plenty of time to get drunk without any commanding officers of any sort nearby at other times." "How about this. The next time we win a big victory, I will come down, and drink with all of you. I will even pay for all of the alcohol. We've yet to have a good celebration quite yet." Says Menglor in a deep and truthful voice. "For now, I have far too much work to do. Making the Guard into a Legion, and nearly five times larger has been very stressful." "I'll hold you to that, sir," Briseis promises. Still, there is a hesitation as she watches him, and she does not step back just yet. The weight of the bottle shifts from one hand to the other before she ventures, "If you don't mind my asking, sir-- how are you holding up? Is there anything I can be doing?" "You are the third person to ask me that this week," the Marshal says with a dry laugh. "I have waited nearly all my life to fight an actual war for the Republic. I find myself fighting a war that is less for a Republic, and more for a bunch of politicians and traitors. I find myself fighting for a Republic that in my mind no longer exists, but I watch my men offer up stunning victories." "Victories that no one thought would be possible." "So, I believe I am doing as good as can be expected for a man in my position, but ultimately I will be quite a bit happier when this war is over ... And we've put the Galaxy back together." Bri's dark eyes are quiet as she listens, fixed tight on Menglor even as her fingers curl their strong grip around the neck of the wine bottle. When she responds, her voice is soft but firm. "I don't know that I ever said congratulations, sir. On your promotion. It was well-deserved. And-- I just wanted to say. That it is an honor to serve under someone so capable of leading us to those victories. Someone worth defending when others throw about thoughtless questions of leadership. Sir." "Thank you, Captain. I appreciate it." Says Menglor in a modest voice, waving off her compliment, as he moves to sit behind his desk. "It has been a pleasure having you as my Adjutant. As for my honor? Defend it however you see fit, but at the same time ... Know that it really can't be tarnished by harsh words from some snot nosed Padawan." "Of course, sir," Briseis answers, no longer quite as quiet, but no longer half as heartfelt either. She steps back, finally, and gives Menglor a strict nod. "If there's nothing else then, sir." "Enjoy your Wine, Captain." Menglor says with a laugh, motioning a gloved hand back towards the door. "It's back to work in the morning. I have a feeling we'll need to be taking Shilli or Thyferra soon." It appears as if that'll be all, but then the Marshal adds further orders. "Oh, and Captain. Track me down a good Bounty Hunter if you could. I need to find some people, and can hardly send the Guard to do what I need to be done." That catches Briseis by surprise, and she blinks for a moment in her pause before nodding quickly. "I'll see what I can do." "Very good, Captain. Dimissed." Finishes Menlor in an even tenored voice. With one final nod and then a poorly-excuted salute - her arms are rather full, after all - Briseis turns on her heel and exits.
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