There was uproar. Media frenzy. Disbelief and shock. The story became breaking news across colonial media waves: one of the few well-liked politicians abducted in the night, a small child hidden for his protection, two security guards killed, and a distraught family left in the wake of the madness. There was no ransom note, no conclusive DNA evidence, and no statements from witnesses; there was nothing the police could use to find Laura Roslin.

Adama felt like he'd aged a thousand years since he'd seen Laura's blood on the walls, on the floor, and even on their bed. What state would he find her in? His military side hated inaction. He wanted, needed to be out searching for her, but there was no place to begin.

The police continued to eye him warily. Their Inspector fired off question after question for him to answer.

"Did Secretary Roslin have any enemies?"

"No."

"Did you have any?"

"No"

"When was the last time you heard from your wife? Did she sound worried?"

Adama thought about it carefully, trying to remember any useful detail. "The morning before she was taken I called her. Valkyrie's records will confirm that. We talked nonsense about pirates. Liam is in a phase. She didn't sound concerned about anything besides a committee hearing at work."

Adama knew interrogation techniques. He was a trained interrogator himself. Uneasiness prickled in the back of his mind as the next questions became more about him. Slaon fired them off one after the other. Adama readily provided information that would help the investigation but knew the police were running in the wrong direction after he was pumped for information on his own background. Many questions were designed to gauge if any connection remained between the Adamas and the Tauron Mob. Bill felt fury coiling in him; he'd resented his father for being a mob lawyer. He'd rejected that dark world, dragging it out wouldn't help Laura.

The police were at a loss. The kidnappers left no useful evidence. Despite being a politician, the investigators realized she had almost no enemies. In their opinion when a wife was suddenly missing or dead, the husband was almost always involved.

"Have you heard the rumors of an affair she'd been having at work?"

"Or course. Politicians gossip. She told me herself about the rumors. They're wrong."

"You're sure?"

"I trust my wife. Completely."

"You're divorced from a Carolanne?"

"Yes."

"Remarried to Secretary Roslin only days after meeting her?"

"Yes." Technically true in this timeline.

"Not the typical beginning to a happy marriage." Adama's eyes narrowed.

"I love my wife. We're happy," he growled in a gruff voice.

"An elite politician trapped into marriage with a Tauron whose family has mob connections?"

"Maybe I wasn't clear. I love my wife and I only want her back." He was surprised to hear the crack in his voice. The stoic persona was slipping, but his emotions were churning underneath his cool exterior. He felt a fierce need to have his beloved wife back and that combined with his sharp irritation at anyone who dared question his love for her or what they meant to each other. He thought of the onyx pendant he'd given her which marked her as his soulmate in his Tauron culture. He'd found it on the bedside table in the shallow dish she kept it in while she slept with drops of blood on it. He might not always have the words to express how he felt, but Laura was his world. It felt like part of him was missing.

Inspector Sloan dragged him through the dirt with questions about his marriage to Laura, pointing out how Fleet marriages were notoriously difficult. Sloan wanted to know why they'd married so quickly, and how two people of such different social standings were a supposed love story. Adama growled his answers out, trying to ignore his lingering fear of being a failure as a husband the longer Laura was missing.

My husband will find me, she'd said. He knew she'd have completely believed her words. He closed his eyes and calmed down. Inspector Sloan had finally left, and Adama was ready to rejoin the fight of find his wife. He marched out the door.

"Nothing new to report," Saul said when his friend emerged from the interview room. The Colonel leaned against the wall, waiting. He'd been observing everything that was going on in the station. "No one has any idea where to start looking."

"Even we don't know where to start, Saul," Bill said, moving to where his kids were. "Laura's been missing for days, we know who took her, and there's no way to track them." They both knew that with every passing moment, the likelihood of her return grew weaker.

"Bill, she's strong. Stronger than any of us could have ever imagined when we first met her. She'll hold on until we find her," Saul assured him, grabbing his friend by the shoulder as they paused outside the room where the Adama children waited. "You will find her."

Saul let Bill walk into the room first. He wished he knew what else he could say or do. He would readily admit that he wasn't the kindest or nicest man to be found in any galaxy. He was crass, cross, and a drunkard. But he did try to be a good friend to those few people he counted as his friends, and Bill Adama was his best friend.

In CIC, when he'd seen raw misery spread over Bill's face when he was told of his wife's kidnapping, something broke free in Saul's mind. It was like a piano hitting the first resounding chord in a familiar song. The Colonel's memories began returning, rising to the surface of his mind like bubbles breaking free of water. He'd seen that look of grief before in a time long past, and soon the memories of that life came rushing back.

Saul knew his friend needed him, so he'd handed CIC over to the Officer of the Watch and rushed after Bill to Caprica. His best friend wasn't going to endure this alone. Truth be told he hated the thought of something happening to Laura as well.

…

Awareness crept into Laura's mind as she drifted back into consciousness. She shivered. Cold penetrated every inch of her body, seeping into her bones. The icy touch of fear poked at her thoughts. Gathering her courage, she gingerly opened her eyes and found herself still submerged in darkness. Only a faint light revealed the iron bars of a cell. She bit her lip to keep from whimpering; she was terrified and in pain. Her stubborn determination wouldn't allow the Cylons to see her weakness.

Her whole body hurt from the beating she'd taken during the abduction. Her arms felt like a million needles were sticking into them from the restricted blood flow, a result of having them bound so tightly behind her back. There was no way she could tell how much time had passed. Long enough that her disappearance would have been discovered, she hoped. She prayed to the Gods that Liam was safe.

The darkness pressed down around her, and she tried to block out the memory of New Caprica's detention centers and its screams of tortured prisoners. Instead, she thought of Bill, needing to be comforted by thoughts of her loving and determined husband. Her eyes filled with tears. She imagined the pain and distress he would be slammed with once he learned what happened. She remembered how desperately he'd wanted to stay with her. If only, she thought.

Biting back her groan of pain, she finally managed to pull herself into a sitting position.

"Nice of you to join us, Madame Secretary or Madame President. Not sure which you prefer." She twisted toward the direction of the voice, but the movement caused pain to surge through her body. She felt dizzy. Squinting through the bars of her cell, she saw two humanoid Cylons peering at her; a One and an Eight. "We have some questions for you," Cavil said. Laura set her jaw and refused to say anything.

…

On the news, President Adar was addressing the press live from the steps of Caprica City's Police Headquarters.

"We are continuing the search for the Secretary of Education, Laura Roslin, who was abducted from her home. This is a difficult and painful time for the colleagues, friends, and family of Secretary Roslin, and we ask for the continued cooperation, thoughts, and prayers from the people of the Twelve Colonies. Colonial forces will continue their search for our missing Secretary, and they will not stop until she is returned safely. If anyone has any…" Kara seized the remote from the table and flicked the TV off.

"No one needs to hear that prick right now," she snapped, tossing the remote on the table. Her agitation flared. She was Starbuck; when danger struck, her job was to face it head on from the cockpit of a viper. She needed a target

"That…prick…is trying to help," Adar snapped, his voice lashing out unexpectedly from the door. His entrance had gone unnoticed by the tired, grieving family in the room. "I wouldn't talk about your Commander-in-Chief like that, cadet."

"Not really concerned with talkin' pretty right now," Kara snapped back, not caring that she was glaring at the most powerful man on the Colonies.

"Kara," Saul warned, catching the young woman's eye. The non-verbal order was clear; stand down. Kara pursed her lips and turned away from Adar.

After deciding to ignore the girl's attitude, Adar's eyes swept over Laura's family gathered in the small room. He was baffled at how the sophisticated woman he knew had gathered such a group of misfits around her and willingly called them her family.

"We have everyone looking for her. Police. Fleet. Everyone," Adar began in a low voice. "I've ordered no expense spared."

"Thank you, Mister President." Adama said. He didn't care who found Laura, as long as she was found. Taking a deep breath, Richard closed the door behind him and addressed the group.

"We should talk," he said. He searched for the right words. "Cylons," he spat the word out. "You think it was Cylons, don't you?" he asked. Lee's eyes shot up from where he sat in the corner of the room with Liam asleep on his lap. He was the only one who looked surprised.

"The kid says he heard metal men," Saul spoke. "There's not many metal men I know. And Cylons would have easily been able to overpower her guards."

"But this didn't happen in your timeline?"

"No. Cylons never committed any violence during the interwar period," Adama reported. Adar's mind contemplated the phrase 'interwar period' and shuddered at the implications – the possibility of another war coming.

"Not everything is happening exactly as it did before. There's changes," Kara said, folding her arms.

"OK, OK, I can't wrap my mind around the time travel talk," Adar said, holding a hand up to stop anyone else from speaking. "Let's keep this simple. Cylons might have taken Laura, but the last thing I need is a planets-wide panic over the possibility that they've returned," he stated. "There's a new lead. I want you to take your Battlestar and follow up on it. We'll keep it military and classified in case it is…." Adar couldn't seem to say the word Cylon again. He looked at Adama. The man's eyes widened at the possibility of a lead. "Your family can make use of the guest quarters in the Presidential mansion," he continued, and he watched amazed as a quick set of wordless communication exchanges happened between the members of Laura's family. However rag-tag they seemed; they were also in sync. A second later Adama spoke, his voice crisp and commanding.

"Lee, you'll take Liam and Zak to the mansion. Stay there and watch your brothers," he ordered then glanced over to Kara and Saul.

"We're with you, sir," Kara assured and stood at attention ready to spring into action. Adama nodded toward them and turned to Adar. "What have you got?"

Adar handed him a piece of paper.

…

Laura almost laughed at the absurdity of another aspect of her dreams coming true; the frakkin' metal chair she'd seen. She was tied to it. Whatever games the Gods seemed to be playing with her, she was sick of them. The proud woman refused to give into hysterics; Cavil would not witness his effect on her declining mental state.

The Cylon had questioned her for what seemed like days. Laura had lost track of how many times she'd screamed, whimpered, and begged her lack of knowledge about anything Cavil asked about. Her throat was raw. Her body was slumped in the chair, held in place only by the bindings tied around her, securing her to the chair. She seemed to have been granted a small reprieve in the interrogation. The Eight continued to watch her; apparently, she was there as witness for Cavil. The other Cylon had moved off to the side of the room and was working on something. Her mind was too tired and foggy to register what he was doing.

"The people called you a prophet, Laura. Remember that?" Cavil asked, moving back over to her and holding something in his hand. Her vision was unfocused, and her hair hung in her face. It was impossible for her to know what he held. A weak whimper passed her lips when the sudden sharp pinch of a needle pierced her skin. "Seems appropriate to give you this then. Chamalla. Oh, and a truth serum. Something I liberated from the military. Both should help loosen your tongue." The effect was almost instant. She could feel her grasp on reality fading away from her. The world became a distant thing. Her mind floated between consciousness and oblivion. Time was meaningless.

Out of the confusion, she heard Elosha's voice echoing out to her.

"Twelve, Laura. There are Twelve. Twelve Lords of Kobol on their Olympian thrones. Twelve planets for the Twelve Colonies. Twelve cycles of time. Twelve who remember each chosen and representing a Lord of Kobol to face the jealous God who meddled with time. Twelve who will shape this final cycle as we come to the end of the line."

…

Author's note: I give you all a few answers and a mystery. May the guessing and theorizing commence.

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