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Inside the dark hanger, the
families huddled in the various corners, as if trying to find shelter from
the sounds of the skirmish that went on on the outside.
Then as if from the blue came the sound of heavy
pulsar-laser-fire from above in what seemed to be several passes.
Then there was a pause in the racket. The sounds of skirmish
returned, but much reduced and much farther away.
The people remained in their huddles, hardly daring or knowing
what to say.
And then the door that covered their hanger seemed to shake.
Then a laser-blast sounded, and the door was slid open.
Someone started to scream, but had their cry muffled by their
neighbor.
And as the first sunlight any of them had seen in several days
filtered in, they could see in the dazzling brightness, in all his polished
glory, a Cylon standing, fully alerted with his laser-pistol aimed dead-on,
straight ahead.
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