Snippet #2370362

F.S.S. Salient
Day Two

Aronimus stood at a balcony in a firing deck of the Salient. He had received some minor message from Max, referring to some new A.I. The Admiral thought about it once, perhaps he was referring to the T.A.U., or A.D.A.M. However, his mind was too focused on the current occasion to worry about it. He was overlooking various sorts of personnel dressed in their formal apparel.

This was no banquet or honorary ball of sorts, no, it had no festivities to it. It was a day of solemn reminder and respect. It was a day of mourning. The marines, the sailors, and the non-military personnel came to pay their respects to the deceased and the people who gave their lives so they could stand there that day. For the admiral, he had seen many of these funerals over the course of his career.

But he'd never gotten tired or weary of them. He had worried that should he ever lose sympathy for fallen soldiers, he would become another Aronimus Weston who was alien to him. That was something that he would not allow to happen, despite the fact that he prided himself on his partially rigid adherence to reasoning and the military code of conduct.

They were gathered in the firing decks of the Salient, canisters filled with the ashes of the fallen were loaded into tubes and prepared for ejection into space. Long black banners were hung from the bay's overhead gantries.

It was time.

The Admiral made his entrance onto the platform overlooking the firing deck, positioned behind the soldiers, as they watched the tubes beings loaded into the launch tubes.

One of the master chiefs spoke aloud, "Honors...ten hut!"

As Aronimus spoke, the speakers carried his voice not just around the entire bay, but throughout the ship to crew-members who could not attend the ceremony.

"We must never forget the actions of fellow servicemen and women," Aronimus said, "Liberty, is a privilege, not a right. It must be fought for, and defended, everyday. Not an inch of ground must be given to those who oppose it."

"These men and women gave the ultimate sacrifice, and in doing so," Aronimus paused, "They will ensure the continued survival of our Federation. They are not just soldiers, they are heroes now."

The deck remained silent, as the marine band played the anthem, and the guards gave their gun salute for all who perished. Outside of the ship, fighter wings who had lost men flew in a "missing man" formation.

"Honor. Duty. Sacrifice. These are what make soldiers. Death will never diminish these traits within these fallen heroes."

The hatches opened and the tubes were ejected into the silence of the void.

Aronimus took off his cap and placed it upon his heart and closed his eyes for a very long time.