PEACE BETRAYED--ANNIHILATION

          After ending his communication with his grandfather, he stopped suddenly to lean heavily against the twisted metal and broke marble that had once been Caprica Towers, one of the two main communication towers.  His eyes slipped closed, wanting to shut out the destruction he saw all around him.

          It didn't work of course,   "GODS!" he cried out suddenly, small fires suddenly springing up, the tears he had been fighting against for so long finally beginning to fall.  "I can't DO this!" he cried as images began to play through his mind.

          Arms wrapped around him, drawing him up and against the strong, tall body.  As he pressed his cheek to the chest, he felt the bandage beneath the uniform shirt and knew who held him.  "I just CAN'T, Roark."

          "Sh...hh," he breathed into his ear as his head bent close, his hands beginning to move up and down his back in a comforting manner.  "Come on now, get control of yourself.  I know this is hard on you, " he went on, hugging him tightly, "on any of you who have strong empathy, but there are people who need us.  Those who didn't make it to the shelters, as well as those who are trapped within those shelters beneath the collapsed buildings.  We HAVE to keep going, cousin, keep it together long enough to get our people out of here and to a place of safety.  Once we do that, then we can fall apart.  We  can finally mourn those we have lost."

          He couldn't.  He just...COULD NOT.  He was spiraling, his emotions all over the place, his empathy picking up on everything around him--A sharp prick of the needle going into his neck, the feel of the liquid beginning to move through his veins, feeling the dulling of his gifts, of his emotions, and he sighed.

          "It's another Beta," he told him softly, fingers beginning to sift through his hair.  "We aren't giving you the alpha unless it becomes obvious you cannot control yourself.  Better?

          He drew free of Roark, feeling steadier.  "Better, but I--"

          "We know'"  Sebastien said.  "Just hang on a little longer for us.  Once we return to the Galactica, you can fall apart, and we will catch you, hold you."  He bent his head. pressing a kiss to his brow.  "Come on, let's get to the Academy."

          "Mallory?"  Roark turned to look at the man in question.

          "Sir?"

          "We're heading on over to the Academy.  The rest of you stay here, sweep the city, find as many of the wounded as you can--

          "Send the worst of the wounded to the Galactica or the Solaria."  Sebastien interrupted.

          "Right, send everyone else that's mobile to the spaceport."

          "We'll see to it, Lt. Commander.  Good luck, Sir," he said with a salute.

          "You too, Mallory.  I think we're all going to need whatever luck we have left to get through this."

          "I definitely agree with you there.  Your cousin, Sir?  Will he be alright?"

          "Once we reunite him with his husband, and get him away from all these negative emotions, he will be."

          "Good.  Come on boys and girls, let's get to work.  Let's see how many we can find alive."

                                                                        cccVccc

          They made it to the Academy...or what was left of it...which was not much.  "He told them!!" came the outraged exclamation.

          "I think," Roark said quietly, "that we can safely assume Baltar told the Cylons everything."

          They looked around, not a single building had been spared,  Twisted steel, broken glass, and shattered marble lay everywhere, the ground pock-marked by laser furrows, or deep holes where the bombs had landed.  Even the four garden parks had been destroyed,

          "It's a very good thing," Severus said, "that there is an entrance off campus.  It would take us far too long to get to them if we had to dig them out."

          One and all whirled to look at him in shock.  "There's an entrance-WHAT?"  Roan gasped.

          Severus merely smiled, turned, and began to walk away, the others scrambling to follow him.