PEACE BETRAYED--ANNIHILATION

          He turned in his chair to face them completely, his hands raising so that fingers could begin massaging his temples, where a headache had begun to form, the lights in the room playing over the rings on his left hand, making them sparkle in an array of rainbow colors.

          "How much do the two of you know about the premonition dreams I've been having?"

          They both shook their heads.  "Not as much as we would like.  But then, you, Dylan and Kili tend to not talk about them much."

          "No, I guess we don't at that, but then there's a very good reason for that," he told them softly as Apollo got to his feet and moved behind him, set his hands to his shoulders, and began to knead.  "Um...mm, you have about a hundred yahren to stop that," he breathed as his head rolled.

          "Lords of Kobol, you're tense.  I gather these dreams the three of you are having are bad?"

          His eyes slipped closed.  "Dylan's can be considered bad.  Kili's are  worse, but mine...mine are indescribably horrific."

          Zac turned to look at the two on the couch, with a look of disbelief.  "They're the same?"

          "Very close," Kili answered.

          "Some of my dreams have become much clearer...not that they weren't already clear, and once I wake up, I remember a little more of the dream than I did, and the more I remember the more terrified I become."

          "As do we," Dylan murmured, slipping his arms around Kili's shoulders, who had turned into his side, seeking comfort.  Harry, Colten, and Roan remained silent, watchful, expressions worried.

          Zac looked at each of them, then over at his nephew, whose eyes were still closed as Apollo continued to massage his neck and shoulders.  He moved to him, took a seat on the floor at his nephew's legs, laying a hand on his knee.

          Roark opened his eyes at the touch to meet his eyes.  "The dreams...or premonitions are always the same, but the impressions that are left behind...Fire, pain, fear, anger, death, and massive destruction.  The dreams themselves I could never remember once I was awake, but those impressions stayed around for a while.  It's only been over the last sectar that the dreams began to change.  And it's these changes that I'm remembering."

        "Changes?  No.  Don't tense up on me.  Just relax...tell us what you can.  No pressure, no pushing for more than you can give us.  Just take your time as we intend to remain right here for as long as you need us to."

          He nodded, leaning his head back against his chair, meeting his uncle's deeply concerned gaze.  "But don't you see?  That's just what I'm afraid of.  That we don't HAVE any more time.  There is now an immediate sense of great danger, though I still can't tell where, or even WHEN, or from what, though we have our suspicions.  I see the fleet, all eleven Battlestar's.  I see the Colonies.  I see Rodolphus and Rabastan.  I see Papa, Uncle Thorin, and Bilbo.  I see all those we left at home.  Then...everything is aflame, people are dead, dying.  I can FEEL everything...the pain, the fear, and the anger.  People...OUR people are crying out to be saved, only--" he broke off.

          "Only...what, little brother?"  Roan asked him softly, seeing just how pale Dylan and Kili had gone.  "Dylan?  Ki? What is it?  What have you all seen that you haven't told us?"

          "There isn't anyone left TO save them," came from Dylan and Kili.

          Roark opened his eyes, his head turning to meet Roan's.  "They're right.  There's no one left to save them.  These premonitions are still pretty much one big puzzle.  We know all the pieces are there, we just can't seem to put them together.  Kili and I...even Dylan...we can't. There is a part in all three of us that know what this all represents in its entirety...is just too horrific to contemplate."