Recap: They arrived at the Lion's Head Nebula and brought the Beacon aboard Galactica. Research is being done to use the disease as a biological weapon. They also found a message inside the beacon in Old Gemenese.

...

From Pythia, High Priestess of the Lords and Oracle of Kobol.

To the Cylons of Earth, our brothers and sisters of the Thirteenth Colony who remain ever in our thoughts and prayers: grace and peace to you…

I give thanks for your message and the honor you showed the Twelve Tribes by finding us in your night sky. I have seen the Constellations myself in the images sent to us and hope those stars keep us in your memory.

Lord Apollo has preserved these images and created a room where one can stand in and see the Earth sky projected above them.

It has been four hundred years since your Exodus. Now the distance between us spans so far and I grieve that our ancestors could not live in peace. It is good to know you have found land to call your own.

…

"Cylon," Elosha spat. She wrenched herself away from the table covered in textbooks in the Adama quarters, offended by the translation despite having done it herself.

"Is that the correct translation?" Laura asked, despite knowing it was right. She'd stood upon the Thirteenth Colony in the previous timeline and had seen the test results confirming Cylon colonization herself. It was a bitter truth to swallow then, and Laura watched Elosha go through the process now.

"They are not our long-lost brethren," Elosha snarled, more worked up than Laura had ever seen.

"Unless they are," Laura said, rubbing her head to relieve the headache threatening her sanity. She hadn't poured over textbooks like this since the days of writing her doctoral dissertation; there were piles of books, open books, and books stacked on the ground. Religious leaders loaned them, having collected the volumes to preserve Colonial theology. Bill Adama's bookshelves lacked titles such as Understanding Colonial Religion and Early Gemenese: Understanding the Sacred Texts. There hadn't even been a copy of the Sacred Scrolls in their quarters at the start of their journey because they'd tried to keep their distance from such things this time.

"This will cause a massive uproar in the Fleet," Elosha said, collapsing into the chair by Laura. "The Thirteenth Tribe were supposed to be our long lost brethren, not our mortal enemy."

Laura shrugged. What didn't cause an uproar? "We'll learn more as Baltar retrieves more of the audio file."

Elosha pursed her lips but inclined her head in deferment to her Sacred Scrolls' promised leader. She reached into her robes, the sequined fabric catching the light and refracting it into a thousand directions with each movement. She pulled out a bottle of pills and set them before Laura.

"No wonder you wish to seek communion with the gods," Elosha said.

Despite having asked Elosha to bring her Chamalla, the bottle's presence jarred Laura. She could almost smell the bitter tang of the pills by just looking at the bottle.

The sound of the hatch opening spurred her into action. She swept the bottle up and hid it in her bag with government papers before Bill stepped into their quarters.

…

In the world, we are destined to have tribulation. But take heart and remember that the Gods lift up those who lift each other. So do not fear, but take care of your neighbor.

The flood, the blaze; disaster always comes and the jealous god strikes to try to bring our end. The jealous turned you against us; humanity's own beloved creation rebelled. Through struggle came understanding, even though our peoples chose to part ways.

Filled with sorrow at the broken state of humanity, the gods tried to bring back paradise. Convinced they could return us to Kobol's Golden Age, they again used the Orb of Chronos, having once used it to defeat Hades. The damage to the planet was undone and for a time all seemed right. Then whispers of memories from things we had not experienced. A crop field aged overnight, the road to Delphi returned to grass in a season. I fear this will only get worse.

Do not return to Kobol, my brothers and sisters.

…

Dressed for bed, Bill came out to find his wife asleep at the table with papers spread around her. Mindful of her triggers, he carefully woke her up by gently running his fingers through her hair. She hummed in enjoyment until finally cracking her eyes open.

"Hey, handsome," she said sleepily, eyeing the bare muscles his tanks revealed.

"Hey, sleepyhead. This will all still be here in the morning, you know. You should come to bed."

"Oh?" Laura gave him a tired grin.

"Laura, we're both exhausted and old. You are getting a kiss and a cuddle, and that's it."

Laura stood, bumbling toward the rack. Bill tried not to laugh, always finding his sleepy wife endearing and beautiful.

"Is ok. I like cuddles," she mumbled in a sleepy voice and climbed into the rack.

"You might wanna take your heels off, dear."

…

All this has happened before, and all this will happen again. I see some images of what is to come.

Just as the Thirteenth Tribe left Kobol, so too will the time come for the other tribes to take to the stars and find a new home. The blaze comes.

It comes for both our peoples. Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed.

A caravan of the heavens will form from those who can escape. The gods will anoint a leader to guide them, and this will be their last act as the Twelve. Slowly, they will become the One.

…

"Is this that translation thing that mom's been working on?" Zak asked, picking up a piece of paper from the table in his parents' quarters.

"Yeah, although it's supposed to be a secret," Bill said from where he sat on the couch, reading through the report his middle son had just delivered.

"Cottle," Zak said with a shrug. "There's no one else he can talk to or complain to about certain things. You should hear him when he gets going about you." Cottle, of course, knew about the message from the beacon. He'd been one of the people working in proximity to it. Zak was privy to the truth of the alternative timeline and thus one of the only people he could rant to and put to work.

Zak waited for his father to finish reading the reports as he poked around the quarters. He stopped at the drinks cart and grabbed him and his father a nip after getting a go-ahead nod from him.

"So Cottle is ready to start inoculating the Cylons so that they are immune to lymphocytic encephalitis," Bill said, tossing the report on the couch and accepting the proffered drink from Zak.

"After the reports are read and signed, I'll be the one producing the shots myself. Cottle doesn't wanna risk someone else looking too closely at what we're doing. They might ask questions," Zak said. He took a shallow drink, more prone to toying with the glass and wandering through the quarters at the moment.

Bill nodded and picked up the reports again. Balancing them on his lap, he signed on the lines necessary. He rose and strode over to Zak, who now stood in front of the bookshelf.

Zak took the papers. "It's lucky a medical frigate survived the attacks. Otherwise, we probably wouldn't have the means to make this much medication."

"It wasn't luck," Bill said. "Captain Hansen is a friend of Doc Cottle's. The Captain owed Doc a favor, and he probably thought Cottle was out of his mind when the favor was waiting by Ragnar with his transponder off on the day of the attacks. That kept his ship alive."

"You all thought of everything, didn't you?" Zak said, staring at the books without seeing them. He absently swirled the liquid in his glass, sometimes taking more sips.

"You can never think of everything in a situation like this. We did our best," Bill said. The Admiral strode over to his desk and grabbed a small booklet of papers before returning to Zak. Concern for his son prickled in him; Zak never acted this subdued. He handed him the documents and continued to study his son. "Your mom made one of these for Billy too. It's a bit of an overview of what we experienced ahead. We probably should have done it before now since you both don't remember."

"Hard to remember something when you're dead," Zak said. Bill flinched at the words so hard that some liquid from his glass spilled onto his hand.

"What's wrong, son?"

"If I didn't know about that other life you and mom lived, I'd be really unhappy about helping the Cylons."

Bill set his glass down. "You think I'm happy about it, son? They killed our people. Your mother will be haunted by her interaction with them for the rest of her life. My children haven't known safety in years. My best friend is still mourning his wife," Bill cut himself off before he could go on anymore.

Zak took a huge gulp of his drink before looking at his dad. "I didn't realize that. You and mom make it look so easy to get along."

"We have to set an example."

"I hate this," Zak admitted, hanging his head. "I might not be creating the weapons itself, but I'm still part of a project that will create biological weapons. I'm helping do some pretty grey moral shit, and I'm so frakking pissed that the Cylons brought me to this point. I'm a doctor! I wanted to help people," Zak said. "Biowarfare and body bags."

"Sometimes you gotta roll the hard six. You choose between the least wrong options in a bad hand," Bill said. Seeing Zak so down, he reached out and drew his son into a firm embrace. Zak's fierce hug back told him he'd done the right thing. "It's okay to hate all of this."

"Good," Zak said, feeling a touch better.

"We can leave your name out of this operation; let the historians judge your mother and me alone. Gods know we've given them enough fodder."

"Do you ever think about what history will say about you?" Zak asked.

"No."

Zak rolled his eyes at how very predictable his dad could be. "Guess I should have guessed that answer."

"I do hope they are nice to your mother and that they remember my pilots, especially the fallen."

"Maybe after we get to wherever we are going, Galactica should be… a museum," Zak teased.

"Funny."

…

First to become the One will be Lady Athena, who, in her grief, will jump from the Gates of Hera and her spirit will leave her corporeal body. Her twin will lay her body to rest under the stars in the room he built.

The last of the Twelve to join the One will be Lord Zeus, who cannot remain incarnate without his beloved at his side. Surrendering to the wind, he will warn the leaders that any return to Kobol will demand a blood price.

…

Politicians were good at token gestures, even the ones cobbled together out of everyday members of the Fleet quickly learned the talent of doing something without actually doing anything. Laura hated it.

In the largest conference center of Cloud Nine, the Quorum voted to grant the Cylon Rebels a provisional seat on the Quorum of Twelve. It gave them a symbolic seat on the governmental body of the Fleet, but it had no real power.

"The ayes have it," Laura said, trying not to let her sarcasm out of its tightly controlled box. She was tired of talking about the Rebel Cylons when she knew they'd eventually become full members. What other choice was there; send them back to Cavil? She supposed that, for now, it was a good step that the nice, friendly Cylons had a foot in the political door, and the Quorum felt better subsuming the Cylon sub-nation into the Colonial Fleet. Jurisdiction was a word tossed around at Quorum meetings a lot lately.

She banged the gavel down and adjourned the session. As the delegates shuffled out, Laura tried to imagine what their reaction would be when they learned the Cylons were the Thirteenth Tribe from Kobol.

No one has been burned as a heretic in over a century, she mused.

As Leoben predicted, the vote swung in the Cylons' favor after they presented their research into more defenses against their meaner brethren. They called it "airborne countermeasures" as a fancy way of describing using the air systems to release a virus that would disable boarding parties. Everyone wanted access to the countermeasure secretly developed by Cottle and presented to the Fleet a friendly gesture from the Rebels. It made sense that in their tumultuous lives, everyone craved a bit more security.

…

When I held the Orb, it showed me more. Earth and the Twelve Colonies will not always be our home. The blaze comes. All this has happened before and all this will happen again.

A new caravan of the heavens will form, led by two leaders bound together in the deepest and truest love. Their fates are forever joined. I see their daughter, a miracle brought forth in the waning of their life. She'll be a sign of life in the time of trials.

…

Tory strode into the darkened presidential office with determined steps. Her raised chin dared anyone to ask why she'd come back so late, but the place was empty. Ready with an excuse of just wanting to get some extra work done, she found that everyone had already gone home for the night. Tory scowled, thinking of her boss playing house with that brat and oafish husband of hers. Tory found all three of them insufferable: an average woman raised on the doubly high pedestal of president and prophet, the Fleet's little princess that cried whenever Tory got too close, and the Admiral whose eyes bored into her whenever their paths crossed.

Her heels clicked against the deck as she strode over to Billy's desk. Mr. Baby-Face wouldn't risk disappointing his beloved boss by admitting he'd done something so unprofessional as misplacing important documents. What a perfect target he made.

Oh, an executive order about rebuilding the court system. Wally might like a preview of that, Tory thought. With a grin, she slipped it into her patent leather briefcase.

After shuffling through the papers on Billy's desk, she nabbed a few more minor things. She had to hold a hand over her mouth not to laugh when she stumbled across a poem Billy was clearly writing for his wife. Insides still shaking with mirth, she put things back in order. No one would be able to tell anything had been disturbed.

As she worked, a small booklet caught her eyes. Feeling invasively curious, Tory opened it. More poetry? she wondered. Nothing could have prepared her for what she read.

Wally needs to see this, she thought. This will cause quite the stir.

…

The Arrow of Apollo will open the Tomb of Athena. The map to Earth will be found and the most important journey in the history of the peoples of Kobol will begin. Our peoples will reunite over the skies of Earth. It is only then that we can journey toward the promised land, guided by the two leaders.

…

"Pythia never thought Earth was the promised land," Laura said when she saw Bill's shadow fall across the starmaps she'd spread over the floor of their quarters.

Bill carefully navigated across the room to her, and, not always the most graceful of men, he disturbed some of the chart's alignment. From where she knelt on the floor, Laura's hand darted out and straightened them, yelping at Bill to be more careful.

"Laura, I'm a bit concerned," he said, gently touching her shoulders when he reached her. His eyes widened when he felt knots of tension in her muscles.

"Pythia never thought Earth would be the promised land," Laura repeated, barely noticing him.

"I heard."

"Don't you get it?" Laura said, turning to him so harshly that his hands flew off her. "We pinned all our hopes on the wrong thing. How much would have been different if we'd had this information," Laura said, gesturing to the bits of the translated message of the beacon by her knees. The lost possibilities taunted her.

"You can't go down that road," Bill said, resting his hands on her shoulders once more. He gently pressed and kneaded to provide some relief.

"Should you be doing that?" Laura asked. "You're still recovering from your shoulder injury, and Cottle told you to be careful."

"I'll be fine. You on the other hand…"

"Will also be fine," she said even as her shoulder twitched as the tension protested its departure. She had such tenacity in everything she did, sometimes too much.

Bill huffed knowing that he could argue and point out that Laura kneeling on the floor with a puzzle of maps, bits of paper with scribbled translation notes, and dark circles under her eyes was not his definition of fine. He could note her tired voice and her fixation. But he knew his wife of almost two decades quite well; he avoided the direct, sledgehammer approach that would only entrench her in stubbornness further.

"You know, usually I'm the one who has star charts all over the place," he said lightly. "What are we looking at?"

"The path," she said. She pointed to a circled planet labeled Kobol and next pointed out Astral Body M8, the Eye of Jupiter, the Lion's Head Nebula, and then Earth. Maybe not the straightest path, they still formed one linear direction from Kobol. "The map we found on Kobol was right all along. Turns out the Cylons used the relays to communicate back where they'd gone. Not that it did us much good, because it wasn't the promised land."

"Maybe it just goes to show that things have a way of coming true in ways we can't always guess," Bill said, continuing to ease the knots out. He felt her relaxing under his fingertips.

"But the truth was there if only we'd interpreted Pythia differently or had more of this message," Laura said.

"Sounds a lot like life, Laura," Bill said. He longed for the days of dismissing Pythia as superstitious nonsense, but even he could admit they were past that point now. "Life's not a neat package. Why should scripture be? I know you want Pythia to give you definite answers or solid guidelines, but I don't think that's how any of this was supposed to work."

"What use is any of this then?" Laura said, letting her shoulders sag and her spine curl. Bill could almost see the immense weight of their people's plight crushing her. In a tired tone, she asked, "What real help is any of this?"

"It's something to believe in," Bill said.

Laura chuckled a low and hoarse sound. "Yeah, Admiral Atheist?"

"I believe in things," he said.

Laura looked up into his warm, blue eyes that made it quite clear exactly in what—whom—he believed. With a compassionate smile, he held out his hand to help her up and she took it. She stumbled and leaned against him from the pinpricks of sensation returning to her feet after they'd been asleep. Bill supported her with a hand on that spot on her back, and she melted against him.

"Something ugly is coming, Bill. I can feel it. This message… it's just the beginning of a wave."

"We're in as much danger as we've ever been," Bill said, guiding them to sit down on the couch.

"None of this helps find the Orb. That thing could still mess with reality and make who-knows-what worse. Time could be erased. We could lose each other."

Bill frowned at the thought as he sat Laura down on the couch. As she reclined back into the soft leather, he returned to the mess of papers everywhere. After a brief search, he found the paper he wanted.

"'Led by two leaders bound together in the deepest and truest love. Their fates are forever joined,'" Bill read. Laura's head snapped up, and she looked over to find a grinning Admiral. "I like that bit. I believe that bit."

Finally, a genuine smile broke across Laura's face. "It's a good bit."

Bill walked back over and sat down on the couch next to his wife, putting his arm around her. She leaned against his chest, and he kissed her forehead; they were like any other couple curling up together at the end of the day.

"Mommy? Daddy?" Evie asked as she toddled out of her bedroom where she'd been quietly playing. Her hands held a book, and she looked at her parents expectantly.

"C'mere, sweetheart," Bill said, and Evie came over, her toddler-gait scattering the maps in the process, but Laura didn't much care as she swept her daughter up and onto her lap. Evie handed the book to her father.

"Once upon a time…"

…

Author's note: Whooo. I finally got to this chapter which was planned from the beginning, because it was time to hear Pythia's own words.
Much love to all my readers. Let me know what you think of this lore-dump and Chamalla intrigue down in the comments :)

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