Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. Set following the episode "The Passage."

Flunking Family Planning

Chapter 1: Daughter

Admiral Bill Adama sank down into his couch, staring into the glass of green liquid that he had poured himself. It had sounded like a good idea at the time, having a drink. He just let it swirl around in his cup, his thoughts going back to the service. CAG Louanne 'Kat' Katraine's funeral service had just ended. She didn't deserve this, the thought ruefully.

A knock at the door made him stand and meander over to the door. Please don't let it be Dee or Saul with civilian complaints again. I can't handle it right now. He opened the hatch and was surprised to see President Roslin. "Laura, is everything alright?" he questioned.

His voice sounded more gravely than usual. "I thought you could use some company, Bill," she said gently.

Though his first inclination was to ask her politely to leave, he then remembered that she understood. "Come on in," he offered.

She smiled politely and walked in. He offered her a drink and she accepted. Then he found himself back on the couch as he had been before, only with her sitting on the other side. "I'm sorry about Kat. Your speech was very good though," she conveyed as she took a sip of her drink.

He finally took a drink of his Ambrosia. I guess I was just waiting for someone to commiserate with. "I didn't do her justice. She didn't deserve to die like that," he said dryly.

Roslin nodded, thinking of Billy Keikeya. "It's hard losing people younger than you. They're supposed to be the ones carrying the human race," she paused and swallowed the emotion welling up as her right hand rested on the couch, "and yet we're the ones that are alive to keep going."

Adama took another drink and covered her right hand with his left for a moment. "The problem when you start seeing them as your children is that it makes everything harder when they get themselves into trouble," he mentioned.

She took a deep breath and allowed a few tears to slip by. "There are times when I really miss Billy. He was the son I never had."

"Kat was like a daughter to me. Granted, Starbuck's been like a daughter too from time to time, but it was different. Kat wanted me to be proud of her in particular. What I thought of her meant a lot to her," he said as he sighed heavily. Then he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, unable to keep his own tears from slipping through. "I was telling her about Zack and Lee, and she asked me if I ever wanted a daughter. I told her 'yeah, three's a good round number,'" he admitted.

Roslin abandoned her drink and reached out to put a caring hand on his arm. He left his drink on the table near the lamp and the two hugged. "One day," she whispered, "one day we'll find peace. We have to keep hoping."

Then they parted and she stood. As she wiped her eyes, he joined her and walked her to the door. "Goodnight, Bill," she stated with a sad smile.

"Goodnight, Laura," he replied. Before she could leave, he held her hands for a moment. "Thanks for stopping by."

"You're welcome," she said softly before kissing him lightly on the cheek. As she left, he cleaned up the glasses, knowing that despite the tragedies, tonight he would be able to sleep.

Adama stood with Colonel Tigh in CIC two days later as the officers conducted their preliminary scans for the morning. Suddenly as they watched the viewscreen, one of their own shuttles jumped into view. "Sir, were we scheduled to have shuttle jump tests today?" Tigh asked.

Adama shook his head. "No, we weren't." He noticed that the ship was venting something and the black marks showed that it had been attacked. "Lieutenant, can we contact the shuttle?" he asked his son's wife, Dee Adama.

"Sir, it's hailing us," she answered, pausing. She faced him hastily when she recognized something the shuttle had sent. "And whoever it is, they're using your call sign, sir."

"Put it through, lieutenant," he ordered.

The transmission was crackling, due to the shuttle's damage. "Dad, it's Vie, I got the ship to jump, but I got hit on the way back. I'm… venting atmosphere and I can't… breathe. It's me, Dad, let me dock. Had to… use emergency… call sign."

Adama looked around CIC, hesitant to simply open the docking bay. "Does she sound familiar to anybody?" he asked. They all shook their heads.

Another transmission crackled through. "Dad, please, I can't breathe," the speaker wheezed. Something inside Adama told him that they could not just let whoever or whatever was on that ship die.

"You have permission to dock," the admiral responded. Then he turned to Tigh. "Open the hanger," he ordered.

"Sir, what if-" Tigh wanted to be cautious.

"Do it, Colonel. And then meet me in the docking bay with a security team and some medics," he instructed.

When the group reached the hanger, the main door had closed and the shuttle was beginning to open. The voice on the other side of the door belonged to a teenage girl, who appeared to be the only passenger. She had a dark green tote bag over her shoulder and could not stop coughing. "Permission… to come… aboard… sir?" she requested as best she could.

"Permission granted," he said quickly.

Coughing hard, she staggered out of the shuttle, but then collapsed on the deck, leaving Major Cottle and the medics to carry her to Life Station. They set her on the bed and Adama studied her. She can't be older than seventeen or eighteen, he thought to himself. Once they reached Life Station, Adama and Tigh watched as Cottle put the girl on oxygen for a while, quickly taking a sample of her blood to test in the Cylon detector. He did not want to be in the way, so he watched from one side, just out of the girl's view. She was wearing a blue day uniform.

After a while she was sitting up. When Cottle put the oxygen tank away, she stared at him intensely. "Something wrong, young lady?" he asked.

"You're dead," she exclaimed. "I saw you shot two years ago! How are you here?"

Cottle smirked and shook his head. "Maybe I took you off the oxygen too soon. I've been here all along. I don't know what you're talking about," he stated. "I'll be right back," he commented, leaving her and walking in the direction of the admiral.

"What do you think, Jack?" Adama asked him.

The doctor glanced over at her to see her sitting quietly on the bed still. "I honestly don't think she's a Cylon. She might not be playing Triad with a full deck, but I think she's all human," he replied.

"Do you know what's wrong with her?" Tigh inquired.

"She's got a disease that causes constriction in the bronchial tubes," he paused and ran his fingers through his hair. "What I can't figure out is why she never got it treated."

Adama watched as the girl lied down. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that we cured it six years ago. Its one of the reasons that I don't think she's a Cylon," Cottle conveyed.

"We need to know who she is as soon as possible," Adama reasoned, handing the bag that the girl had been carrying earlier to the colonel. "There might be some form of ID in there. What I'd like to know is how in the hell she got my call sign."

Tigh found a plastic holder attached to a lanyard, containing exactly what Adama had wanted. The colonel looked at it intensely. "Sir, I think this might explain it," he said as he handed it over to the admiral. The ID card read: Violet L. Adama.