Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. Violet Adama is mine.
Chapter 2: What you leave behind
He held the card in his hand and stared at it, as if trying to figure out whether or not it was real. Is this some kind of a joke? Somebody owes me a lot of answers. Adama and Tigh walked close to the girl on the bed so that they were now in her line of sight. She sat up and smiled with relief and warmth. "Uncle Saul! Dad!" she exclaimed.
Tigh crossed his arms and glared at her. "Young lady, I don't know who you are, or who you're trying to be, but you sure as hell aren't related to me," he growled.
The girl's face seemed to lose its color. She stared at him with lively green eyes. Then she noticed his eye patch. "I'm so sorry. What happened to you're eye?"
"That's none of your damn business. Now who are you and what do you want?" he demanded.
She looked from him to Adama, her cocoa-brown hair falling in her face. Looks familiar, he thought. She pulled her hair back and let it return to its usual place in the middle of her back. "Dad, I understand if you're mad at me about the shuttle, but don't you think this is taking it a little far? And where's your mustache? Never mind. It was all Jake's fault."
Cottle interrupted. "Who's Jake?"
Taking a pause to look as the admiral, as if waiting for him to react to something, she continued. "Jake Camaretti is a good friend of mine. He used to be a physicist, but now he works with the engines on the Vipers and shuttles," she paused and stared at the doctor again, and then turned back to the other two me. "Can you guys see him too?"
"Why wouldn't we?" Tigh stated.
She sighed and shook her head. "As I was saying, he just shoved me into the shuttle when you radioed everyone to abandon ship and set it on autopilot," she mentioned. "What happened to the Cylons attacking us?"
This was a bit much for the admiral. He sighed, closed his eyes, and rubbed the bridge of his nose in thought. "I really don't know what you're talking about, miss. You just appeared. We haven't seen any Cylons in almost a week. Now could you please tell us who you are?" he requested with as much patience as he could muster.
For a second, he noticed a combination of fear and sadness etched into her face. Oh no, I have no idea how to handle this if she starts crying, he thought. But then she took a deep breath and took on a stony reserve of sorts. "Admiral Adama and Colonel Tigh, I presume?" she asked. When both nodded she continued. "I am Violet Adama, age seventeen, no rank to speak of. Now is somebody gonna tell me what's going on?" she pursued.
There was something familiar about the tone, and the facial expression, but Adama could not put his finger on it. "Why are you wearing a uniform if you don't have a rank?" Tigh interrogated.
"My parents thought it was easier than civilian clothes," she answered plainly.
Before Adama could say anything else, Cottle spoke. "Miss, Jake Camaretti was a pilot who died on New Caprica," he informed her.
"New Caprica? What the heck is New Caprica?" she asked, looking at the others quizzically.
"Where the hell have you been for the past two years?" Tigh demanded. "Do you even know who the current president is? Haven't you been-" Adama put a hand up.
"That's enough, Saul," he said calmly.
"Of course I know who the president is, Bruce Alliard," she answered matter-of-factly.
"Never heard of 'im," Cottle mentioned.
Violet suddenly looked slightly more alert, watching all three of them. "I know what happened; I've been captured by Cylons."
The admiral shook his head and looked directly into her eyes. "I'm not quite sure how to prove it to you, but I promise you we're not Cylons. We're trying to make sure you're not a Cylon," he informed her.
She let a half-smile through her guard and Cottle looked from her to Adama and back. "That's good, because if you guys are Cylons then I'm really screwed," she added.
Tigh looked back and forth at the two. "Maybe you two are related."
"I can test it easily enough," Cottle stated. Violet allowed him to take another sample of her blood for analysis. The she sighed and closed her eyes, rubbing the bridge of her nose in thought. Having seen the admiral do the same moments before, Tigh was beginning to notice more similarities.
At last she looked up and faced the two officers again. "I know what's wrong. This isn't my timeline. Something must have gone wrong with the experimental engine. The shuttle you found me in has a trans-chroniminal jump engine, and it had never been tested before."
"I'm sorry, you lost me when you said that this isn't your timeline," Tigh interjected.
The girl gestured with her hands as she spoke, as if her hands could tell the story better than words. "In theory, a jump of that kind would allow us to disappear and then reappear in the exact same location, just at a later point in time, from minutes to hours, but nothing too long, sort of like being hidden inside the jump. Truth is, we didn't even know if that's what would actually happen. It was supposed to be heavily tested before any people used it. I think what happened to me is that my shuttle jumped timelines, or maybe 'strands' is a better word. It's the only way to explain why Dr. Cottle is still here, and why none of you know me. This isn't my timeline."
Tigh whistled. "That's the craziest story I've heard in years. You expect us to believe that? Who sent you?" he probed.
As she smirked, Adama noticed that it looked familiar, but could not recall exactly from whom. "Do you have any better explanations?" she inquired.
"Miss Adama, you're gonna need to stay here until we know if you're a Cylon or not," Cottle relayed.
She faced him. "I understand, and I go by 'Vie,'" she replied.
That'll probably be less conspicuous than calling her by her lat name, the admiral reasoned. "We need to be getting back to CIC," he remarked, starting to leave as Tigh followed him.
Adama was deep in thought as they walked through the corridors. At last Tigh broke the silence. "You look like you could use a drink."
The admiral sighed and shook his head. "I've no idea what to make of this. Are we supposed to try to send her back?"
"Don't tell me that you actually believe her story," the colonel commented.
"Saul, there's something in my gut that tells me she's not lying," he responded.
"Gonna be interesting explaining this to the president," Tigh added.
"That's the only thing I'm sure of," Adama stated as they entered CIC.
He was not surprised when the phone rang. He made certain that the line was secure before he began. "Adama."
"Admiral, a shuttle just appeared and I've been hearing all sorts of rumors. You gonna tell me what's going on?" Roslin inquired.
He had to chuckle at her straight-forwardness, making sure that the line was secure. "It's one of the strangest things I've ever encountered. The shuttle had one passenger, a girl. It's too complicated to explain over the phone, but in short she claims to be from another timeline."
"Hmm, that sounds intriguing. I'd like to meet her. Can you have her brought to Colonial One?" Roslin asked.
"I can do that as soon as I prove she's not a Cylon," he mentioned. And as soon as I find out if I'm really her father. It's ironic that I lose one daughter and another one just shows up.
Later the admiral headed back to Life Station. Violet was sitting on the bed, arranging the bag that she had brought. He cleared his throat and she turned to face him immediately. "Yes sir?"
I wonder if she does that every time someone clears his throat. "Violet, why do you have a bag with you if, as you mentioned, you were just pushed into a shuttle?"
"We were given the order to abandon ship, so I grabbed a few things that I thought were important and headed down to the shuttle bay," she answered.
Cottle came out and walked over to them. "I haven't finished with the other DNA test quite yet, but from the first test, she's not a Cylon."
"Well no frakkin' duh," Adama heard Violet mutter. Then she looked up to face the two men. "That's good to know," she stated politely. That was almost the kind of cover a politician uses, he mused.
Cottle headed back toward a computer, analyzing the DNA sample. Adama faced the girl. "The president wants to meet you, so I'm going to escort you to Colonial One," he informed her.
She smiled a polite, guarded smile. "Alright," she replied, slipping off the bed and grabbing her bag.
Abruptly Cottle called out, "Holy frak!" and Adama craned his head in the direction of the doctor.
"Something wrong?" he questioned.
Cottle shook his head, noting that no one else was around. "According to the test, you're her father."
"In that case, we're going," the admiral replied.
The doctor watched the two leave and head down one of the corridors. "Thank the deities that he didn't ask who the mother is. He'd have a heart attack," Cottle whispered aloud.
Lighting on Colonial One was brighter than it had been on Galactica. As they approached the president's office, Adama noticed that the light caught auburn highlights in the girl's hair that he had not seen before. "Those highlights natural?" he asked.
She smirked. "You told me I couldn't dye my hair until I was eighteen. Yes, they're natural. Mom has dark auburn hair, but I don't think she's in this timeline," he heard a hint of sadness in her voice, but she cleared her throat and held her head high.
"Are you nervous?" he asked after a minute.
"Not exactly. I'm just confused about everything. If I was nervous, I'd start giggling and then we'd have a problem," she conveyed with a wry grin.
It's something in the way she smiles, or it's in her eyes. I just can't put my finger on it but I've seen it before. Tory interrupted his chain of thoughts by coming through the door. "The president will see you now," the stated primly, looking Violet over as if she was carrying weapons. Then she cocked her head to one side and stared at the girl, as if looking for something.
When the aide stepped aside, Adama and Violet both raised an eyebrow and then looked at each other. The expression was the same and readable in both: wow, is that one uptight? Then he looked ahead and walked toward the president. The two adults greeted each other with "Madame President," and "Admiral." Violet seemed composed until the president stood up to shake her hand.
"Welcome on behalf of the Twelve Colonies. I'm President Laura Roslin and we're happy to have you as our guest," she greeted politely.
The admiral watched as a look of total shock passed over the girl's face, then an expression of joy, quickly covered by a mask of politeness as she put out her hand as well. "It's an honor to meet you, Madame President," she stated.
"Please have a seat," Roslin offered. She glanced over at Adama and nodded for him to do the same. Then she turned back to her guest. "Whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?"
The girl swallowed hard, still retaining her composure. "I am Violet Adama, daughter of Admiral Adama, but not in this timeline," she remarked.
Roslin leaned forward at her desk and folded her hands in front of her. Violet sat back in her chair and crossed one leg over the other, folding her hands in her lap. The admiral glanced from one to the other and the realization hit him like the proverbial tone of bricks. They have the same green eyes. This was what Cottle found out. Laura's her mother, which means I'm married to her in another timeline. Apparently whatever strange twist of fate brought us to that point, at least it doesn't appear that we killed each other, he pondered while rubbing the bridge of his nose.
Roslin raised an eyebrow at him, but then turned back to Violet. "Was your mother the admiral's first wife?" she inquired.
Oh no, here it comes, he thought. But Violet did not take the direction that he thought she would. "His first wife left him when Zack and Lee were boys. He moved when Zack started Kindergarten. My mother was Zack's Kindergarten teacher. They started dating when Zack went to First Grade. They've been married for nineteen years. The five of us were on Galactica when the Cylons attacked, for the decommissioning ceremony. Mom brought her class there on a fieldtrip."
"Was she ever interested in politics?" Adama decided to ask.
Roslin looked at him over the top of her glasses, as if to ask: Do you know something I don't? Violet had an answer. "She told me once that if she hadn't met Dad, she would've been in politics."
"Tell me, Miss Adama, how did you come to be here?" the older woman inquired.
"It's 'Violet' or 'Vie,'" she began. As she explained to Roslin what she had told Adama, she noticed a pen and a pad of paper on the older woman's desk. "May I use these?" she asked. The president nodded and watched with interest as the girl began to explain about timelines and drew how the engine worked. "What I can't figure out is how I ended up here. In order for me to actually jump timelines, some kind of shockwave would've had to run into me and throw off the magnetic field the engine generated. Let's see," she paused and sketched out the locations of several shuttles, Vipers, and also the Cylons. Then she drew Galactica and added firing from all parties involved. "If I was here, then how did…" she trailed off and dropped the pen. Adama and Roslin noticed that all the color had drained from the girl's face.
She calmly looked up at Roslin. "Madame President, may I use your bathroom?"
"Certainly, it's just right over there," she indicated the direction and Violet disappeared.
"I wonder what happened," Adama commented.
Roslin picked up the drawing and raised an eyebrow, studying it. "Bill, something shook her up badly."
"I wonder if all teenage girls are this confusing," he grumbled.
She smirked. "What do you make of her?"
He ran his fingers through his hair. "I thought she was sane until a minute ago."
Then they heard Violet emptying the contents of her stomach. After that, they heard sniffing and then crying. "I suppose no one told her that the walls were thin," he commented, unsure of what to say and uncomfortable. "Maybe someone had better go check on her," he stated as he stood.
Roslin had been studying the pictures Violet had drawn and suddenly stood, grabbing Adama's wrist. "Give her another minute. I think I know what she figured out," she paused, showing him the picture. "The only thing big enough to create the kind of shock wave that she was talking about would have been Galactica. She's just realized that everyone she's ever known, in the way she's known them, is dead."
"Didn't we all face that when the Cylons attacked Caprica?" he mentioned.
"This is worse. Every record of her is gone too," the president added. They exchanged worried glances at hearing the girl's continued sobs and both headed toward the bathroom.
Roslin knocked and found the door to be only ajar. Violet was sitting on the floor with her knees up, hugging her knees with her face buried in her arms. At hearing the door open, she made an effort to stand up quickly and grabbed a tissue. Wiping her face, she tried to compose herself. "M-Madame President, I'm sorry about falling apart like this. It's just-"
The older woman placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "You don't need to apologize to me. I figured out why you left from the picture."
She needs something more for having to deal with such a huge loss, Roslin thought. Slowly she pulled the girl into a hug, which tightened as the girl fought to keep from sobbing, but failed. I wonder why she's this comfortable with a stranger, the president pondered. Then she noticed Adama standing in the doorway. His eyes were on the reflection of them. She understood when Violet looked toward the mirror for a moment. Roslin had seen that look of desperation and sadness before.
"Who was your mother in your timeline?" she inquired.
"You were," the girl answered quietly.
Roslin held her for a few more minutes as she worked to compose herself. Then Violet slowly pulled away and took a deep breath. "I think I'll be alright, at least for a while. Thank you."
"Where will you be staying?" Roslin asked.
Violet's expression was blank for a moment. Then she glanced over at Adama. "I don't know," she said softly.
The admiral looked over at the president and then back to Violet. "We need a moment, if you don't mind," he mentioned. Violet nodded as Roslin left the bathroom and joined Adama back in her office.
He sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I hadn't thought that far ahead," he admitted.
"She can stay with me for tonight, and then we can work out a more permanent arrangement tomorrow. You can't just stick her on one of the colony ships," Roslin pointed out.
"I wouldn't do that. I don't mean to push this on you, Laura. Until I sit down and figure out how to deal with this situation, I'm figuring on taking responsibility for her," Adama conveyed.
She smiled calmly. "You're not pushing anything on me since I offered. It's not like she's five; she's seventeen, Bill."
"Alright," he agreed with her.
Then they walked back to Violet. After having washed her face, she stepped out of the bathroom to face them. "You may stay with me tonight if you'd like," Roslin offered.
Violet smiled gratefully and picked up her bag. "Thank you, I'd like that." Then she faced the admiral. "I managed to grab my sweats before I had to leave. Can I go to the gym?"
Adama raised an eyebrow. "You know where it is?"
"Dad, I've known my way around Galactica since I was five," she told him with a smirk.
He thought for a moment. "I don't want you running into any members of the press, so I'll walk you down there and come back for you later."
Violet knew that his statement left no room for negotiation. "That's fine, just let me change," she remarked, heading back to the bathroom.
"She probably figures that exercise will help her feel better. We'll talk more about this tomorrow," Roslin suggested to Adama before Violet returned.
"Today isn't over yet. I've no idea what trouble she could get herself into," he reminded the president.
"She knows her way around, so it should be fine," she tried to reassure him. When Violet returned, she and the admiral left for Galactica.
(A/N: The 'timeline' concept is actually derived from a theory that involves strands of fate that diverge when various decisions are made, resulting in different events and different outcomes, similar to the idea with the movie "Sliding Doors." 'Timeline' could also be called a dimension, a strand, or a universe.)
(My thanks to carolann, Jojo, zephyrchild, Phaser Lady, and Mariel3 for reviewing :D)
