Jan. 30th, 2010

mr_gaeta: (that's not good.)
Outside, New Caprica is burning.

The insurgency's plan went as predicted: the distractions have been triggered, the sky is filled with Vipers (and, briefly, the impossibly huge shape of Galactica herself free-falling through the atmosphere), civilians are scrambling to the safety of waiting ships. And all around Colonial One, the city comes down in flames.

Gaeta's alone in one of the back rooms of the ship, forehead and hands pressed to the wall, trying to breathe, trying even harder not to look out the windows. Maybe this counts as a success -- the admiral came back for them.

If it is, it's a success that's reached this height only by standing on the back of too many failures to name.

I failed. Gaeta closes his eyes.

And remembers what's inside one of the desks in this room.

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Felix Gaeta

February 2020

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