The civilian captains were royally pissed off, and their ire was directed toward the one and only Starbuck. Over the last hour, Admiral Adama had received back-to-back calls from ship captains demanding that he control his hot-shot pilot. Kara's dangerous fly-by stunts had the fleet's civilian captains more than a little hot under the collar. It also had Adama nursing a growing headache.

Tigh listened as Adama soothed another set of ruffled civie feathers. Coddling civilians irritated Galactica's XO. He could hear the yapping of yet another captain, and it set his teeth on edge. The fact that the lot of them had a valid point to complain about because of Kara only deepened his mood. Never let it be said that he couldn't find the silver lining of a situation though—Tigh felt gleeful at the prospect of Kara Thrace getting some well-earned hack time. He was of the opinion that Adama's pet viper jock still needed to be taken down a peg or two.

"Admiral, I have Starbuck on the line." Dualla reported. "She's requesting to speak to Galactica Actual."

"Your kid knows she's in trouble," Tigh muttered in a low voice, smirking.

Adama sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Put her through," he ordered, picking up his comm. He gave Tigh a hard look when his XO moved to grab his own headphones so he could listen in. "Starbuck, you'd better have a damn good..."

"Leoben," she interrupted, her voice shaking. "It's Leoben. He's here."

The shock knocked all the air from Adama's lungs. His sharp reprimand for Kara died before it ever made it past his lips. His gaze shot up to Tigh and he motioned for his XO to put his own headset on.

"Say again."

"It's Leoben. He's… raider… here… here in a raider. He… he remembers. Everything. The interrogation… streams… Earth... New Caprica…" Kara's voice was strained, her control slipping in the shadow of a man who'd done almost as much to frak up her psyche as her birth mother had. Her comm was having trouble picking up her hitching voice.

"Breathe, Kara," Tigh ordered. A different Saul Tigh had taken the place of the crotchety XO of Galactica. He'd instantly switched into a softer, sympathetic figure at the mention of New Caprica. This Tigh was the man who had a turbulent friendship with the viper jock and understood her crazed state. "Breathe. Slow down. Now, report."

"Cylon raider. Ten meters in front of me," Kara reported in a clear effort to be as dispassionate as possible. "Pilot claims to be Leoben. He says he remembers everything. He's surrendered. Wants to talk."

"Signs of aggression?"

"None."

Adama weighed his options. Leoben manipulated and played games with a disturbing ease. He uttered deep truths yet mixed it with lies and half-baked philosophy. Causing chaos was an artform for this particular Cylon model. It was tempting to order Starbuck to blow the raider out of the sky and avoid what discord the bastard's games could spark. "Order his ship to shut down. We'll tow him in. Prisoner drill," he ordered instead.

In CIC, Adama heard Tigh ordering the CAP to form up at Kara's position and for marines to report to the hangar bay. They could hope Leoben had turned ally again as he had once before, but they wouldn't be unprepared for tricks and schemes. He could hope. The Colonials could use a strategic edge right now, but they couldn't afford to be trusting. After a split second, Adama added, "If he tries anything, shoot him down."

For a moment, he only heard the heavy breathing of Kara over the comm line. He could practically hear her reminding herself that she was a steely-eyed viper jock who wasn't going to be afraid of Leoben. Finally, she replied in a crisp voice.

"Yes, sir."

…

In the void of space, a viper and raider squared off against one another. At the outskirts of the fleet they floated, away from prying eyes. Starbuck felt like an animal on the outskirts of a herd who was being watched by a hyena. It wouldn't surprise her if Leoben started laughing like one over the comm. She had relayed the Admiral's orders, telling the Cylon they'd be taking him aboard Galactica.

Leoben had been delighted.

Kara then warned him that she'd shoot his ass down if he tried anything.

He'd laughed.

It took less than a minute for him to comply without issuing any protestations. Kara watched the raider's engines power down. So far, the Cylon seemed happy to play the Colonials' game. Nevertheless, Kara's eyes remained fixed on the raider now drifting in space.

"All this has happened before, and all this will happen again," Leoben's voice mixed in with the static of the open comm line. Kara felt a pulse of hot anger shoot through her.

"You have no right to quote our scriptures!"

"The same Kara Thrace but so different. The same fire, but your soul is free and your mind has transcended. We have a lot to talk about."

"Talk?" She shrieked. "You slaughtered my entire civilization. Again! Billions of people…"

"The stream couldn't be diverted, no matter how much you or I wanted it to be. But you're standing with me on the shore now, and like me, you've seen how the water can flow." His voice was warm and tranquil like a summer breeze, pleasant and almost teasing.

Kara noted another viper that had been flying CAP come up alongside her. A raptor with two more vipers flew out from Galactica coming over to help tow Leoben in. These were her comrades-in-arms, some of the only people she could trust, and it soothed her frayed nerves to see them in the inky black beside her.

"We can throw a pebble into time and it creates a ripple, but the current always corrects itself," Leoben murmured, the static mixing with the calm hum of his voice.

"Why can't you leave me alone?"

"I'm not here to hurt you, Kara. I'm here to help."

…

Adama marched to the hangar bay where an entire platoon of marines had taken up tactical positioning throughout the bay. He was taking no chances. Trust would have to be earned, and Leoben would find it a daunting task. Entering the bay, Adama noted all his men and women gripping their rifles, training their sights on the Cylon raider as it was towed into Galactica. He had confidence these marines could handle Leoben—they were a truly scary lot when provoked.

Chief Tyrol had most of his deck gang evacuated. Equipment was left abandoned and lying around the bay. The smell of tylium from the gang recently fueling vipers hung in the air. The remaining crew helped Tyrol maneuver the looming ship into position. Carefully, they brought the enemy ship to a halt.

The whole hangar echoed with the reverberating thud of the raider's underbelly opening up. Adama stood motionless and unphased as the figure of Leoben dropped to the deck from that opening with a heavy thud. The Admiral didn't cringe at what must have been a painful impact of a body against the hard deck. He had no empathy to spare for the Cylon who'd put Kara through a living hell. His own fatherly instinct had him wanting to cross over to the Cylon and drive his fist into its face.

He watched that face break into a smile when it looked up and met Adama's eyes. Just a small pouting of its lip, a widening of the eye, and a tilt of the head. It was subtle, but it sent the message that Leoben was the one who should celebrate victory. Those who caught a glimpse of it wondered if they were making a foolish mistake having him aboard. If it was meant to provoke Adama and the rest of his military personnel, it didn't work. They were too well trained and far too wary to let anything slip in front of the enemy.

Adama remained stony and impassive. The two men refused to look away from each other as three marines frisked Leoben. Their shakedown, while thorough, revealed only a small disk the Cylon was carrying. The marines handed it to their platoon commander, Lieutenant Hoban Wade, who looked it over. After assessing no immediate danger, he placed the disk in a black case.

"Admiral," Leoben greeted with the faintest of formal bows as cuffs were snapped around his wrists. Adama didn't answer but instead observed him, looking for any sign of memories, malice, or weakness. He heard the case with Leoben's disk seal with a click.

"Take it to Mr. Gaeta for analysis," Adama ordered the marine holding the case. The young corporal quickly scurried away, eager to follow orders.

"It's a gift," Leoben spoke, flashing Adama a deeper smile.

"You've offered your surrender. Why?" Adama asked, still not reacting. Leoben noticed this.

"Always falling back on the military training, right? Assess the enemy."

"Why are you here?"

"To talk."

"The truth?" Adama pushed.

"I see suspicion and distrust are still part of military life," Leoben said, raising an eyebrow as a marine put his feet into their own restraints. "Human nature never changes."

Adama's jaw clenched as he recognized Leoben's words from their first interaction on Ragnar station in the other timeline. Ally or foe? Friend or enemy? It would be better to have the conversation in private with Leoben safely behind bars.

"Take him to the brig."

"Where are the Harbinger of Death and the Dying Leader?" Leoben asked raising his voice.

Adama froze at Leoben's words. Dying Leader. "There's no one, absolutely no one, who fits those descriptions aboard," Adama snarled, his fists clenched at his sides. His marines were taken aback by the unusual visceral reaction in their unflappable commanding officer. Some of the soldiers held their guns tighter, preparing to fire.

"You can't keep them from me. It's destined for our paths to cross," Leoben said, tilting his head to the side and continuing to regard Adama even as a marine tried to push him forward.

"You're in no position to make demands."

"No demand. Just destiny. Something we can't escape," Leoben called over his shoulder as the marines propelled him forward.

"Make sure the prisoner is secured," Adama ordered his marines who accepted their assignment with crisp nods. They marched Leoben through the corridors of Galactica toward the brig.

There Adama would further question the Cylon himself. He had decided that he would be the one to confront the master of deception. He was a trained interrogator. He knew how to develop a rapport with a prisoner and glean information. He knew what questions to ask and how to pose them. Tactics. Drugs. Torture. If Leoben had truly come as ally, he'd be spared the less savory aspects of interrogation.

...

Billy scurried off with a spring in his step and a shy grin on his face while Laura turned the other direction and made her way through Galactica. Her chief aide had admitted, with the tips of his ears turning pink, that he planned to surprise Dualla when she came off duty with a simple dinner together in the mess hall. The piece-de-resistance in his plan, he said with barely contained excitement, would be dessert. He'd found some chocolate stashed on Colonial One. Chocolate, post apocalypse, was worth more than its weight in gold.

Laura teased him gently and wished him luck. Her heart went out for Billy, still awkward and sweet as ever. Billy and Dee had both met tragic ends in the other timeline, and Billy was clearly trying to live a better life. It brought back Laura's own happy memories of being reunited with Bill sixteen years ago, and she needed a reason to smile after another long day. The corner of her lips quirked up when she remembered how she and Bill had thrown themselves at each other. Both had been overjoyed at the second chance they'd been given.

Her smile faded when she looked to her side and caught sight of Liam and his slumped posture and downturned face. They made their way to the Admiral's, now the Adama family's, quarters. As they walked, Laura lovingly tried to draw her son out of his mood. Her efforts weren't even causing his lips to twitch into a smile.

"Sweetheart, please tell me what's bothering you," Laura pushed, her tone pleading. She tried to be patient, giving her son a chance to reply. He looked over at her with sad green eyes.

"I miss home."

"Oh," a lump formed in Laura's throat. She and Bill had built a good life together on the Colonies, one in which their son had been raised and had thrived. He'd never had to move houses, change schools, or leave friends. The treehouse Bill and Lee had built him for his fourth birthday had still been his trusty hideout on his fourteenth. He'd played pyramid with the same kids for years. He'd known his best friend Anna since kindergarten and he'd just started getting the courage to ask her out on a date. Now it was all gone and there was no going back. Laura knew Liam had been trying not to think about any of it, and she wasn't going to force him to until he was ready.

"I miss home too," she admitted, reaching out to wrap a supportive arm around him.

"They really took everything from us, didn't they? The Cylons."

"Not everything."

"They took you once. I never forgot," Liam said swallowing hard. Laura remembered the nightmares he used to have, and how often he'd come sneaking into her room to sleep next to her. She'd wake up with pinpricks in her fingers from how tight Liam gripped her hand in his sleep.

"Your dad brought me back. He'll keep us safe now."

"Everyone here treats me so weird because I'm the President's and Admiral's son. They act like I'm going to go run and tattle-tale if someone even so much as looks at me the wrong way," Liam said despairingly.

Laura felt for her son. He was in an awkward and precarious position.

She had just finished implementing a rudimentary school system across the fleet, selecting the best ships to provide education for the remaining children. The basic one-room schoolhouses run by the people in the fleet with the best educational background she could find gave Liam and others like him a place to go and be with other children. It provided the children of the fleet a place to be and a foundation to stand on while allowing many of their parents to work. It was one of many policies she'd marked in her journal to implement right away, making the fleet a smoother and safer place.

One such school was aboard Colonial One where Liam attended. She asked him if he'd made any friends there. He shook his head sadly.

"The other students have a nickname for me."

"What?"

"Little Prince," Liam snorted. "Better not become my callsign." He could just imagine the lifelong teasing that name would provoke after he got his viper wings. There would be Apollo, Starbuck, and… the Little Prince. He scowled.

"You could have a name like Hot-dog. That's what Kara named one of the new nuggets," Laura offered, hoisting her bag up higher on her shoulder. Inside were plans for reinstating the Quorum. She'd gotten her own nickname from one cocky reporter—Queen Roslin. She really didn't need the fleet catching onto this theme and making it a point of contention. This was still a democracy.

Saul Tigh's voice came over Galactica's intercoms. He issued a code that left Laura frowning. It repeated over the speakers again, and Laura wracked her brain for what it meant. Giving up, she turned to her trusted guard with a raised eyebrow. Being a fleet spouse and the military's commander-in-chief had given her a decent grasp on the military and their own unique language, but she couldn't remember everything.

"Prisoner drill, sir," he reported. "They're bringing a captured enemy aboard."

Laura's eyes widened. Her recent dreams and visions flashed in her mind. She could almost smell the dirt and leaves from the forest she'd sprinted through in her dreams until Leoben had found her.

"Liam go to our quarters," she ordered, motioning for one of the guards to follow him.

"Mom?"

"Go!"

For a second, she could almost hear Leoben's voice in the corridor there with them, 'Laura. Laura. I have something to tell you, Laura.' She gave herself a mental shake.

"I'm going to the brig," Laura said, turning and striding toward the cell she'd once been thrown in. She had a nagging feeling she already knew who the prisoner was and hoped she was wrong. They didn't need another level of complication in their lives right now.

…

The squad of marines marched Leoben through Galactica, keeping him moving in the direction of the brig. The Cylon didn't seem to mind the open glares crewmen gave him; they recognized him as one of the Cylon models. He'd become known to the Colonials during the Cylon's bogus peace talks.

They reached the brig where Leoben was pushed inside. It was made of four stainless steel walls, a dark floor, and heavy metal bars bifurcating the room. One-part prison cell, the other part where a guard would be stationed, and it was all barely big enough to avoid claustrophobia. Leoben was taken into the cell and restrained to the chair that had been bolted to the floor. His legs were secured, and his arms were wrenched behind him. Leoben chuckled at the predictability of military hospitality.

Adama entered the cell. His eyes burned with fearsome intensity but there was an almost inhuman expression of detachment on the rest of his face.

"Are you going to hurt me? Break me in ways I didn't know I could break? I can tell you wouldn't give a damn about it. Might even enjoy it. I wonder if your wife knows about this ruthless streak in you," Leoben grinned, but seemed disappointed when Adama didn't flinch.

"Wait outside," he ordered the guards, stepping into the cell with Leoben himself. There was only a fraction of hesitation before the two burly men obeyed their commanding officer.

Adama wielded the following silence like a weapon, letting it stretch and put Leoben on edge. He felt how unnatural this silence was, knowing that it was devoid of the questions and demands Leoben expected to take up this space. Silence seeped into Leoben's every pore like a poison, and the Cylon finally twitched uncomfortably.

"Right now you are a captured enemy combatant. A non-human prisoner. There's no rules for non-human prisoner treatment," Adama began.

"It's deliberately cold in here, right? Keep the prisoner uncomfortable—make them more pliable?" Leoben asked in a curious, light tone.

"It is. And the walls are sound absorbent. I could leave you here. No lights. No sound. Sensory deprivation has a devastating psychological impact on humans. Hallucinations, incoherence, and delusional thinking are the typical results," Adama stated. The unasked question was left suspended in the air—what would it do to a Cylon?

"Interesting you speak of deprivation. I sense the echoes of what this cell has seen in times past. A woman imprisoned. Your own XO deprived her of her medication. Have you ever watched a person going through chamalla withdrawal? It's brutal. Hallucination, incoherence, and delusional thinking," Leoben said, giving a small bark of laughter at the turn-around.

Adama's fists clenched. Was it true? Adama realized it wouldn't surprise him if it was, and his heart physically constricted at the idea of what Laura had gone through in Galactica's own brig. It was another thing she'd never told him about, probably not wanting either his pity or to pit him against his friend. He suddenly had the urge to go give Saul a piece of his mind.

He planted his feet on the deck and refused to move. This was what Leoben did. Tried to get in people's heads and mess with them. He forced himself to stay restrained while Leoben smirked and told him to ask her about it sometime.

"Patrols have confirmed you are here alone," Adama fired the question off.

"I come in peace."

"Your people came in peace on New Caprica. They came in peace at Armistice Station." Adama shook his head. "Cylon peace," he scoffed.

"What about human promises? Your people violated the peace treaty. We found those little stealth ships the Valkyrie tried to sneak across the border. None of our technology was anything like it. Their carbon composite hull was ingenious. It didn't take much to tweak that technology so we could use it ourselves." Leoben shook his head. "Humanity sealed its own fate, and the stream keeps flowing. Destiny is fulfilled."

"Why shouldn't I toss you out an airlock?"

"I brought you a gift. The specs for that technology are on the disk. And I'm sure Chief Tyrol will enjoy poking and prodding my raider into giving up her secrets."

"Then maybe the real question is, what do you want?" Adama asked, still keeping his tone hard but level.

"Don't worry about it. I'll get what I want. It's fate," Leoben said. A second later the sound of the hatch opening filled the air. Adama's blood ran cold when Laura stepped into the room.

"We can't escape destiny, Adama," Leoben said in a low whisper to the Admiral before looking up to address the newcomer. "Madame President," he addressed Laura respectfully with a nod.

"Stay back, Laura," Adama ordered, uneasy at his wife in the brig with Leoben.

"So protective. You think this chair, this cell, can hold me?" Leoben asked, looking up at Adama. The Admiral's eyes narrowed in warning.

"I think you'd better tell us what you want," Adama growled.

"I wanted to follow my destiny. I listened to the hybrid. She spoke of you. 'Two leaders will rise to guide the Caravan of the Heavens to their new homeland. They'll be given a long-wanted gift, a sign of God's plan and the promise of life.'" Leoben looked over to Laura who stepped closer to the bars, clearly interested in what he had to say. "You remember the Hybrid. You know she speaks the truth," Leoben said to her, keeping his eyes on Laura but letting his gaze drop to her stomach. "All children are a blessing from the one true God. Especially the one you carry."

Adama snapped and felt all the anger and frustration he'd been holding back rise like lava in a volcano. He stared at the Cylon in stunned rage. How could he have known? How could the Cylon possibly have known about the child? He heard Laura's gasp of surprise at the Cylon's knowledge of her baby, and his gaze darted over to her. She looked shaken.

The distraction was all the chance Leoben needed.

With an unnatural speed and inhuman strength, he snapped the metal restraining him in the chair like it was paper. He was a blur of motion as he slammed his body into Adama's, knocking him to the floor. Laura was instantly shouting for the guards; she heard the brig hatch open as Leoben darted to the cell bars.

She moved back but not fast enough before he reached through and grabbed Laura's wrist. He pulled her to him. His grip was iron tight.

"I have something to tell you, Laura," Leoben murmured, barely giving the flurry of activity around them the time of day. He looked deep into her wide eyes. "I'm Hephaestus."

Laura shuddered. Leoben was one of the twelve.

"I'm Hephaestus," he repeated. "And I've brought what I needed to bring and delivered the messages I needed. I must return to my people. They need me. You know what needs to be done."

Growling, Laura slammed Leoben's arm against the bars of the cell. Leoben's shock and pain caused his grip to loosen, allowing her to pull away. At the same time, Adama had climbed to his feet and moved to give a sharp blow to the Cylon's head. He might be an old man, but he still had enough muscle and training to cause damage. The Cylon fell to the ground, giving the marines enough time to move in and re-apprehend Leoben.

The Cylon stood there, suspended between the marines. Adama moved to Laura's side. She was breathing heavily and regarding the Cylon.

"What do we do with a deadly machine that has killed your people and threatened your future?" she asked out loud. Leoben grinned. She looked up at the guards. "Throw him out the airlock," she ordered.

…

Later in the middle of the night, Adama couldn't stop thinking back and fixating on each of Leoben's words. The oblivion of sleep would be kinder. Every time he closed his eyes, the nightmares solidified. He felt his hope tested and a sick feeling settled into his stomach. Trying to push it all away, he paced his quarters. Every so often, he glanced between the two sleeping figures of Laura and Liam, and their presence soothed his troubled heart. He might be a stern military man, but he loved his family dearly.

Padding quietly over to Laura's slumbering form, he leaned against the rack and watched the temperate rhythm of her breathing until his eyes began to feel heavy again. Maybe he should try once more to sleep. He raised his hand to tuck a strand of red curly hair behind her cheek and then trailed his fingers down her side to rest on her stomach. It was there now—the slightest swell. His touch lingered there as he tried to let his mind process everything.

His hand warmed when Laura's own fingers threaded through his to rest on her stomach.

"Come back to bed," she asked in a sleepy husky voice. "I've missed you." He knew what she meant. He'd been distant, and they'd had far too many fights over the past weeks. It shamed him to hear his strong and independent wife having to admit her longing.

She gave him a soft smile and flexed her fingers over her belly. "This is a gift."

"Getting you back was a gift. Being returned young enough to have Liam was a miracle. This is tempting fate."

"I'm not the Dying Leader anymore," she said in a soothing whisper.

"Visions? Prophecies? I'm so, so tired of fate, destiny, prophesy… all of it, Laura. Have you ever seen yourself on Earth with our daughter?" he asked.

Laura propped herself up on her arms. "That's what's really bothering you isn't it?" Her husband's troubled blue eyes were all the answer she needed. She inclined her head to the side. "I haven't. You're right. But I have a feeling we still have many years together." She gently tugging him down onto the rack with her and tucking herself against his side. He felt her smile against his bare skin while pulling the blankets around them.

"I need you," he admitted softly into the dark.

"Me too."

…

Author's note: writer's block is a terrible, terrible thing. This was a rough chapter to write.

I heard there isn't an email notification now when someone gets a private message. I have replied to many reviews, but you might not have seen it because the notification system has gone.