Time To Flee

Picon Fleet Headquarters on mission day 1

The sun had continued to beat down on the cities of nearly all the colonies for three days as the majority of the planets were engulfed in one of the warmest summers ever recorded. For Jonathan Kilmartin, the time had come to visit Picon Fleet Headquarters and sign his release papers, finally ending his tour of duty with the Colonial Fleet and begin a new era in civilian aerospace technologies. He had left Caprica Colonial Spaceport several hours earlier and the ‘Caprica Courier’ that he had been travelling aboard had (surprisingly) arrived on schedule, leaving the Captain some ten minutes before he saw the Fleet’s Personnel Officer for the last time.

The man was strolling down the corridor, his jeans and lose fitting hula shirt ensuring he stood out from the crowd as he carried his uniform, folded in his hands. As he walked he felt a sudden, instinctual change in the mood in the Headquarters building and noted the sudden appearance of people picking up speed and running around. Suddenly, there was a blinding flash of light that penetrated the well lit room and died down almost as quickly as it started, followed by the sounding of an alert klaxon. “Alert, alert. Cylon attack underway. All personnel report to postings or CIC for orders.”

With no assignment of his own any more, the Captain ducked into a nearby room; he emerged moments later in his full uniform and made his way towards the CIC until he heard screaming. Looking out of a nearby window, he saw what could only be described as small fighter like craft bearing down on the hangars and buildings of the massive fleet complex. He had no time to think, no time to contemplate the events. He took just two split seconds to consider his next move and then began the sprint towards the exit to the main building, headed for the nearby fleet maintenance hangar where he hoped he would find a Viper or some sort of other craft that would be space worthy and could get him out of dodge and quick.

Explosions began to sound around him, some shaking of the building indicating the Cylon assault on the facility was well under way. Rubble, dust and smoke began to permeate the air as he began to find breathing somewhat difficult- he had to get out of there and quick. Glancing around he spotted his exit point at last – an emergency door that led to gods knows where, but he had to take it.

He began to make for the door, the unfamiliar whine of Cylon craft overhead as they strafed the buildings and began to target Colonial craft that tried to take off from the surface. Another explosion rocked the corridor, a pipe hanging overhead perilously close to landing on him but he threw himself forward just in time to avoid it as he fell to the floor just inches behind. A narrow escape for sure, but as he hurtled through the door he did so at the same time as a Cylon raider blew let rip into a grounded vessel full of military officials. He made eye contact just in time to see the fear in the eyes of one of the occupants before the craft exploded and sent him flying backwards and slamming into the ground.

He struggled to lift his head and as he did so he could feel his eyes becoming heavier, as if he could no longer fight the urge to sleep. A few more seconds and everything began to fade, followed by darkness engulfing him.

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