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Snippet #2169588

located in F.S.S. Salient, a part of Nebula's Dawn: F.S.S. Salient, one of the many universes on RPG.

F.S.S. Salient

The last Neptune Class Battlecruiser commissioned by the Federation. Welcome on board.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aronimus Weston
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"Sir, we're being hailed by the enemy command ship..." J.G. Napier reported.

Aronimus turned towards the lower officer, "Patch it through."

"Right away," Napier pressed a pair of keys on the holographic screen, with a transcendent beep, the bridge's central holographic star map was replaced with a direct feed to Silver Eyes himself.

The one who called himself Silver Eyes, appeared on the screen. Gruff, and harsh, yet refined, for an Admiral. He was still clad in his old Federation service dress, the old line, including the service cap as well. Aronimus was surprised to see him in such attire, a traitor still wearing Federation garb. This meant that the old Admiral still had some allegiances to the Federation, or perhaps he was not one to care for his dress

The previous color for a Vice Admiral's service dress was a light grayish blue with golden trims. Since Eturrer's defection, that line of service dresses was immediately removed from Federation uniforms. It was replaced by a line of Navy blue uniform, with white trims. Admirals were still required to wear service caps during formal occasions, but they were not required when in the field. Admirals of the fleet, however, were still required to wear service caps regardless of the situation.

Eturrer's hair had grayed considerably to the point of pure white, like snow covering his head. Compared to his old images of when he was still in service. Back then, he still had brown hair and a regal mustache, which was his trademark. No one had seen his face in years, analysts predicted that he would at least grayed a little

Aronimus noted a scar, albeit a very thin and indiscernible scar, that was carved above his left eye brow, trailing downwards to the left side of his face.

Silver Eyes' transmit in the midst of the engagement made Aronimus wonder what the traitor was up to. Perhaps he was asking for a surrender, even though the Salient was more than capable of withstanding the pirates' sustained offensive.

"Admiral Aronimus Weston, I presume?" the former Vice Admiral spoke with an elegant British accent.

He continued speaking, unimpeded as Aronimus silently listened.

"I see you recognize me, I figured as much. It appears you have outsmarted the greatest pirate," he paused with a sly smile on his countenance.

"And for that I congratulate you, but surely you know that time is running short, Courtney Reynolds did her work and your ship will jump in about 10 minutes," he paused.

"This is why I suggest a temporary peace, you give back Courtney and we'll withdraw everyone," the old Vice Admiral paused, waiting for a response. When nothing came out of Aronimus' mouth, he continued.

"I have and still do have great respect for you, it's not often a young recruit caught my eye," he took a sip from a glass half-filled with an alcoholic beverage. Aronimus was surprised by the praise from his nemesis.

"But it doesn't surprise me, that you are the one to finally best me. Although the whole plan was to delay so whereas you beat us today, our fleet will grow and the Federation will be a forgotten foot note in history," Silver Eyes triumphantly proclaimed, but he was not finished.

"It amazes me you stand with these tyrants, but maybe I wished I stayed naive," that had struck a nerve.

Aronimus, though, remained calm, and retorted in like fashion.

Like a beast that has cornered its prey, he chuckled before speaking.

"Firstly, I'd like to thank you for your commendation," Silver Eyes smiled and took another swig.

"Might I say that you were a good Admiral in your day," Silver Eyes was about to respond, "But, you were good, not anymore I suppose."

Silver Eyes' face turned as he became perplexed by Aronimus' meaning.

"Hmm, tyrants. My friend, you do not understand tyranny."

"There is nothing tyrannical about the Federation, it protects the rights of the people, but will not guarantee it. It can only become tyrannical if the people let it be so," Aronimus jabbed a finger at Silver Eyes, his face had turned from calm to belligerent. This face was then recomposed as he continued on.

"You, you know nothing of tyranny. You are nothing, but a traitor. You fled in the thick of battle," Aronimus paused, but only slightly. Silver Eyes' eyes narrowed into daggers upon Aronimus.

Before Silver Eyes could interject, "If you truly wanted to safeguard humanity against tyranny, then you should have remained to defend it. Democracy, as our forefathers said, is but one generation from extinction. You chose not to defend it, so you can not speak of tyranny!" Silver Eyes' placid demeanor now transformed into one of wrath, before he could voice his outrage, Aronimus continued.

"I must also wonder why, you wish to retreat once we have returned your saboteur? The various inconsistencies in your speech make me wonder,"

"You clearly know that my ship is about to make a slip space jump, but you are going to retreat? There are two mining freighters stacked to the brim with Duillium cargo, that you can freely seize once we have made our jump. Cargo that can fund an entire war effort, and nobody will stop you once we have vanished."

"I can tell that your saboteur is very important to you, and for that reason, we won't be giving her up. In fact, I plan on asking her a few questions myself, as we take her with us, and there is nothing you can do about it," the Salient reflected that last statement invincibly.

Aronimus cut the transmission short after that statement. Aronimus knew that his attacks had hit home as he saw Silver Eyes become visibly aggravated, more so now than before when he was faced with the indignation at the hands of Aronimus' retorts. Silver Eyes crushed the glass of alcohol with his fist, the alcohol disembodied its container's form and gushed in all directions, onto his coat, the bridge floor, and his viewing screen. The shards of glass pierced his skin, bleeding him through little cuts as he clenched his teeth.