Rothgar hastily rose to his feet, remembering just in time to set down the half-empty glass of mead before saluting the Admiral. It was obvious that what naval discipline he knew had been picked up scattershot over the last few months, but he was at the least an enthusiastic practictioner.<br/><br/>"Good evening, sir. It's good ta see you again. It's nice of ye to ask, but I can't complain of naught." This was a lie; anyone who had spent time near Rothgar in the last few weeks could easily conclude that he did nothing<em>but</em>complain. "The gunnery decks need a bit of reworking, tis true, but Vukhad and I've got it covered. Not like those jokers in the engine room, for sure. And the quarters are quite a bit nicer than those ye took me from, so not a complaint there."<br/><br/>Rothgar shot a sideways glare at the mouthy redhead. This was the Admiral, for fire's sake. Hadn't she said he'd saved her from the noose? Maybe he should've waited a few minutes more and let it stretch some sense inta her.