Redacted
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COLONIAL FLEET MEMORANDUM

None

FR: None
TO: None
CC: None
RE: None

IMPORTANT NOTE:
This is for OOC flavor only and is not considered
IC information for anyone.

[Redacted] was heavily invaded. The town was only a population of 5,000 to begin with, and since the bombs failed, the population became swollen with refugees fleeing from the advancing Cylons. We had tried to meet them outside of the city. But quickly, we were outgunned and outnumbered. Our armor units were decimated by their air support. The artillery was so easily taken out. And they still continued to take us out. By the time the third day had come, we were down to less than 100 men and women pushed back into the town and had set up what we assumed were our last stand.

They were in the streets, in the buildings, pouring out of the [Location Withheld]. We'd tried to blockade in with civilian vehicles, but they just punched through any open space they could find. Refugees were all over the place. They'd come from as far away as [Location Withheld], thinking they could escape by the supply and livestock ships if at all possible. The 'Rubber Duck' had been hit while trying to lift off and was burning in port. And the supply ship was long gone, the port was a mess. We had over a thousand trapped at the co-op warehouses and at least triple that at the terminal. There was no food, no clean water, just praying that the fleet would swoop in like angels and save them while the Cylons poured towards our position.

The streets were choked with corpses and destroyed vehicles. We were nearly out of ammo, so we were actually using the damned firefighting water cannons to try to keep the tincans at bay. It was somewhat effective, at least until they destroyed the water main and the pressure went to shit. We lost the CO two days earlier.. freak accident. One of the citizens with a firearm mistook his shadow for a Cylon and shot him through the center of mass in the dark. He was dead before he hit the ground. That's how I ended up in charge. I was fresh from school, and the only ranking officer left alive.

We'd set up camp at the Renaissance Hotel. It was a decent location, good fields of fire with enough space to house our own unit and several dozen refugees. My men, those not involved in holding the barricades, were attempting to perform conversions to other buildings. We'd be able to scavenge food and supplies and hold out for resupply, or so we thought. With the roads blocked and the ships gone, I thought it was best to sequester as many civilians as possible. We had no shortage of weapons that the dead and dying couldn't use any more. We were told help was coming, it was just a question of when it would arrive.

I was about to organize a detail to scrounge for weapons we could convert to hand to hand combat, we were running low on ammunition, when the order came to cease-fire. This was highly unusual. The order was generally to retreat. Our unit had been steadily withdrawing since the invasion of [Redacted] had begun. None of us have heard of the Captain that was sending the order, but we could tell that the Cylon fire was slackening as well.

The next order was even more baffling. This Captain wanted us to divide our unit into the civilian and military elements for evacuation he said. We all looked at each other in confusion. Finally someone suggested that perhaps the Cylons were going to allow the civilians to withdraw but we better be prepared to fight on. I asked for confirmation, I got it. I asked again. Maybe there was something wrong with the orders, maybe I got my brain rattled by a close call. It would not be the first time a radio order had been a mistake in the last few days.

I suddenly found myself speaking to Captain [Name Withheld], commander of [Redacted]. His voice was even and calm. He told me that my orders were not a mistake. That we were to cease fire and that there was an evacuation underway. This couldn't be happening, I told myself. Funny, eh? I was actually a little excited. The war was over. It had to be. But the Cylons were still there. I was furious. I wanted to continue to fight. But I didn't. Instead, I relayed the order. My men stopped firing. So did the civilians. The Cylons stopped firing as well, but gathered on the outskirts of the unit to watch us separate into our different units. Military, civilian, we set up in the buildings and milled in the streets and waited.

The first transport to arrive was one of those luxury liners. You know, one of those that I always wanted to take my wife on, but could never afford. We were going in style, apparently. We must have won. The cheers started in the streets and grew wildly. The Cylons were going to give up, we were going to get out of here, and in a few weeks, all will be normal again.

When that magnificent beast landed, and those gangways came down, I was excited. We had survived - I'd gotten my people out, and saved the civilians to boot. Then we heard the noise. Metal on metal. Those weren't civvie boots on that deck. It was them. The Cylons controlled that ship. And they were fully armed. That's when it hit us. That damn Captain. That gods damned Captain had sold us out and got us to surrender with shady tactics.

It was the civilians that responded first. From one of their encampments, they opened fire on the tincans coming down the gangway. And the response was immediate and terrible. While we were marshalling under false pretenses, the Cylon artillery had zero'd in on us. The first rounds that slammed into the office building were ruthless. And within ten seconds, the building had collapsed in on itself. There were over five hundred civilians in there. They had us. We didn't have a choice. We surrendered.

It took four hours for them to load us on the transport. I'm going to be one of the last in. I don't know where they're taking us. Someone said the markings on the ship were from [Redacted]. The Cylons were ignoring the animals though. I saw a dog earlier. His name is Bandit, he's one of our bomb sniffers, trained to find another unit to go to if his handler falls. I'm packing this parcel for him to take to any other surviving units. Do not take any orders from Captain [Name Withheld]. He's a frakking traitor and I'll be glad to be on his firing squad when I get out of here.

If you see Daphne [Last Name Withheld], tell her I love her. And to kiss the kids for me.

ENS [Name Withheld]
[Redacted]
[Redacted]

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