Chapter 16

William Adama looked around the CIC with a pride that he couldn't contain. His people were the absolute best. Once upon a time, they had been primarily rookies with the useful talent of listening to and following orders without question. Now they were simply the best. They knew their jobs as well as he did, and they did them without prompting. His crew had grown into their positions in the last couple of years, and he couldn't have been more grateful. What was more, they respected him. It was an honor to work with them. And if it was a pleasure to work with them as well, then he would just have to manage it.

Frankly, work in the last week had been nothing less than a pleasure. Things were finally settling down in the hangars as they finished the inspections and modifications that had been revealed as necessary when a Viper had fallen on one of his pilots. Lee finally had set up enough of a support staff for his command duties that he wasn't moping miserably. Kara was recovering nicely, if the several bridge crew members that he'd spoken to that morning were to be believed. And they still remained outside any area of space that they had reason to believe that the Cylons might have infected. From both a command and personal perspective, he couldn't ask for much more.

He was currently receiving a report from his XO as he relieved the officer of duty for the morning. Tigh managed most things on his own, but there were still a few matters that were deferred to the Commander. William didn't mind. He and Paul kept one another straight in a personal system of checks and balances. With no true upper echelon of command, it was the best they could manage to be sure personal opinions didn't cloud the job they had to do. At the moment, they were in one of the quieter corners of CIC; easily accessible, able to see everything, and yet not likely to be overheard.

"The scouting team has found very little on the planned route beyond a very large sun and several uninhabitable planets," Colonel Tigh was telling him, reading notes off a sheet in front of him. "It still looks like our best route, though. A couple of the planets show some potential for Tylium, so we can at least refuel. We have provisions to last through even an extended processing for a change. The agro ships are reporting that they have seed harvested that could last through the next six months, and the breeding is going well on the farming ships as well. We should have regular shipments coming in of both chicken and beef within the month."

"Excellent," William told his friend genuine enthusiasm. "The sooner we get rid of the synthetic protein, the better. I'm tired of the complaints from the crew. And from me; I miss a good steak."

"At least they're healthy enough to complain," Tigh told him with a frown. "The Portentia has reported a rather nasty virus sweeping through their crew. They've requested medical assistance. No fatalities yet, but Roslin is requesting that we send a medical team to evaluate any danger and treat as necessary."

"Do it," Adama said firmly. "Full precautions, though. We can't take the risk of it spreading, whatever it is."

"Agreed. Oh, and I have three requests pending your signature for contraception. One underage, but the other two are Colonial Fleet, and active duty."

"Who?"

"Lieutenant Caspian, from Deck Crew four. She's primarily responsible for heavy repairs, so it's probably safer to delay any childbearing until she's ready to change jobs."

"Agreed. Who else?"

Paul handed him the sheet he was reading from with no less than a smirk. William knew who was on it before he read the name. Lee had already requested the permission verbally, but the paperwork was a formality that needed to be observed. "One of our pilots," he said with a smile that he knew was far too soft to belong in CIC. "Any objections?" he asked his XO with a raised eyebrow.

"You always did have a soft spot for her," Tigh reminded him with a wink. "But I think keeping one of our pilots in the cockpit is justified. Unless you have an immediate desire for grandchildren, that is."

"I'm not that old," William muttered as he signed the sheets that he had been given. Then, with a sigh, he held up the one he had not signed. "And neither is she. This one has to be denied. Can you be sure that we get her some counseling, and then she can resubmit when she's of age?"

Paul nodded, taking the sheets back from him. Neither of them liked denying contraception to those who were responsible enough to ask, but the bottom line was that supplies were limited, and unless there was a clear need and a benefit for the fleet, the only precaution they could recommend was abstinence. When it came to children, William had very mixed feelings. He respected a girl who would at least request protection, regardless of age. And yet he couldn't condone teen sex by allowing the injections to be given to those who were nonessential to the running of the fleet. Thankfully, the concrete policy had resulted in far fewer teen pregnancies than he had originally feared. He wasn't sure if that was due to abstinence or blind luck. He didn't care. Counseling was provided to educate the girls on alternatives to intercourse, but there was still the isolated pregnancy that William had to wonder about. He looked forward to the day when they were able to synthesize the medications more effectively and once more make conception a choice rather than a consequence.

As Paul took the papers he smiled. "You knew about Thrace, didn't you?"

"There's very little I don't know about what happens on my ship," he told his XO with a wink.

"How's she doing, anyway?"

William thought about teasing him by pretending he didn't know who the man was talking about, but decided against it. The truce between his XO and his Lead Pilot was still tentative at best, but he was taking what he could get. "Several of the crew saw her out running this morning," he said with a smile. "So I'd say she's doing well."

"I don't have anything else, then," Tigh concluded as he tidied the pile of papers that he held. "I'll drop these off at the Life Station if you like. I'll pass by there on the way to quarters regardless."

"Thank you," William said. "You'll save someone a trip."

"Enjoy your morning."

William smiled. "I'm sure I will. You know, at one time I would have been bored not to have a dozen things demanding my attention. Hell, I was even ready to retire to get away from the mundane responsibilities of peacetime command. Now"

"Now you know what you have," Paul suggested.

"Exactly."

Paul gave a last smile, one of understanding and agreement, and then turned to leave the CIC. William watched him go with the same pride that he carried for every member of his crew. Paul hadn't had a drink in years, had finally learned to balance responsibility with moderation, and had turned into the best damned XO he could have hoped for. Gradually, Paul was even gaining the respect of the crew, although it had been a long time in coming. What William had always known was there was finally showing; Paul had the heart of a commander.

William moved back towards the center of CIC and eased himself up to the command consoles. Everything was right on track. There wasn't a blip anywhere on his instruments that was out of place, and the conversation humming around him was comfortable and productive. There had been times when he wondered if he'd ever be able to enjoy command again, and it was reassuring to know that he could. For now, they were between emergencies, and he could just let the people around him do what they did best.

An uneventful day. Lords, it was good to have those again. No one had been hurt, no one had died, and no significant emergencies or accidents had befallen either his crew or the fleet in general. William Adama decided that there could be no better success in a day than for it to be uneventful.

He had just completed passing control of CIC to Colonel Kelly. Between the three of them — Adama, Tigh, and Kelly — they were able to keep a command level representative in CIC on most occasions. Every once in a while the com was left in Lieutenant Gaeta's capable hands, but they tried to keep those incidents to a minimum. It wasn't that the Lieutenant was any less efficient than his superior officers, but keeping a Colonel or above in the seat of responsibility was always the safest policy. With rank came responsibility, and it was a responsibility he didn't want to leave on the shoulders of a Lieutenant. Things went wrong — it was an eventuality of command — and when they did he wanted someone with the rank at the helm to answer for it.

The corridors of his ship were moderately crowded at the moment, with crewmen bustling to get to dinner or just back to their quarters for some rest. Shifts were thankfully shorter for most of the staff since they'd managed to train new crewman to fill essentially every position on the battlestar, but they could still be tedious.

But Adama would take a long and boring shift over one that flew by in activity. Boring was good. Boring was safe. Boring meant that he didn't have to wonder why in hell he didn't retire ten years earlier to be picked off with the rest of his planet. Boring meant that he was alive and well, and those he loved were the same. When a man got old, it was the simple things that seemed important. Boring shifts were damned simple.

"Commander."

Adama returned yet another salute on his walk back towards his quarters. He didn't really mind the tradition, but he wondered how long it would remain practical. At what point was military etiquette a simple waste of time? He thought that he must be tired if such common events were registering as conscious thoughts. He hadn't slept particularly well the night before, but that wasn't unusual. Just because the current situation was uneventful, it didn't mean that the weight of command was any less. History had taught him that peace was simply a break between crises, and he never allowed himself to relax too much.

Opening the hatch to his room, he was moderately surprised to find the lights on and someone waiting for him. "Starbuck?"

Kara turned to him with a smile. She was sitting at his desk, looking through one of his old volumes of poetry. Rightfully, the books should have been placed in the ship's library, but this particular one had been a gift years back from Iilya, and he'd never been able to part with it. "Hi."

"Everything okay?" he asked in concern. While it wasn't completely unheard of for one of his pilots to wait for him in his quarters, it wasn't by any means an average occurrence.

"Fine," she assured him. "I just wanted to talk to you for a bit. If that's okay?"

"My door's always open," he told her with a smile, and then they both laughed. It was more than an expression on the Galactica. While he — if anyone — had the right to locks on his door, he'd never felt a need for them. If anyone wished him harm, he was accessible enough on the ship that locking his quarters was ludicrous. Making himself hard to reach would only hurt those that had a need to speak with him. Further, he had no reason to be distrustful of his crew or their families, and they were the only ones with access on the Galactica. "What can I do for you?"

She gave an uncharacteristically unsure shrug. "I guess I just wanted to thank you."

"For?"

That shrug again. "For making this really easy on us," she said cryptically. She really didn't have to elaborate.

"You didn't need my permission," he reminded her as he walked over and sat down on the edge of his bed.

"Maybe not, but your approval means a lot to Lee," she told him. "And to me."

William just smiled. Approval was an understatement of his feelings. A part of him had always believed that she and Lee belonged together, and there was a certain amount of vindication in knowing that they saw the same potential that he did.

"I know you weren't exactly happy when Zak and I"

He shook his head. "I was never unhappy," he corrected. "Surprised, yes. And maybe a little worried that he was so young."

"So I was a lack of options?" she asked with a soft smile.

"You were familiar," he admitted. "And I never questioned that you were a good choice," he added with a wink. "I suppose it just concerned me that he thought you were his only choice."

"And you don't have the same concerns about Lee?"

William bent over and began to untie his boots. "You know the answer to that."

"This didn't surprise you," she said carefully. "Why do I think that you knew what was going to happen before we did?"

"I had an idea," he admitted. "The two of you have a lot in common; I've always thought that."

"You think that's enough?" Again, the uncertainty was in her voice. It bothered him.

"Do you?"

Kara pulled her feet up to the seat of the chair and wrapped her arms around her legs. How many times had he caught her in this position when she'd been worried about something as a child? "I guess I worry. He's my best friend, and my CAG. If it falls apart, things could get very uncomfortable."

"It's a risk," William agreed, moving to his other boot and beginning the struggle with its laces. "Most things in life that have any value at all involve some element of risk."

"Thanks," she said wryly.

"You have to ask yourself which is the greater risk," he continued. "Worst case scenario is that things are uncomfortable between the two of you. As many years as you've been friends, I'd say you could survive that. In the other direction, the worst possibility is that the two of you wonder about this for the rest of your lives. You wonder if it would have worked, if you could have made a life together, and if you've missed something wonderful. Which is the greater risk?"

"No contest," she admitted.

"I didn't think so," he agreed.

"Which do you think is worse?" she asked him gently. "Loving and losing, or never loving?"

He had to smile. "If you really love somebody, you can't lose it," he said. "I never stopped loving, Iilya, even during or after the divorce. I had some regrets, but they involved missing time with her and the unhappiness I caused her. But the love never faltered. I suppose we were lucky there."

"It doesn't sound like luck," she told him.

"You're right. Love is an act of will. It's not easy, at least not all the time. Some days it's more work than fun. And some days, it's the most incredible feeling you can imagine. That's when it's worth it. That's when you know it's right. The rest of the time you have to trust, and hope. I wish it were easier than that."

"I'd rather you tell me the truth than tell me it's easy," she said with a grin, but her feet were back on the floor and she wasn't looking as insecure. That made him feel better.

"It's worth it," he told her again.

"Thanks."

"So, anything else you need? Pearls of wisdom? Permission from the old man?"

She actually laughed at that. "No thanks. I guess I just wanted to be sure. I figured if anyone would be straight with me, it would be you."

"The two of you have something. Lee knows how rare you are. You understand him, and that's damned rare. Pilots are not easy to understand. There's nothing logical in wanting to fly; it's not natural. But it's so much a part of him that Well, a man needs a woman to understand that. You do. He's very lucky to have you."

"It goes both ways," she admitted. "I don't think many men would understand me either. He does."

"There you have it," he told her. "It's all you can ask for, and more than most people ever have. Enjoy it."

"For as long as it lasts?" she asked softly.

"For as long as you have," he corrected.

Reflecting on his conversation with Kara, William had to admit that he was more than a little surprised. She was a woman who normally displayed very little uncertainty, even in the most difficult of situations. He found it very telling that she was more worried about a relationship than she was an attack. If he'd had any doubts that she was taking this as seriously as his son, then their talk had set him straight.

Once she had left, he'd treated himself to a long shower and an early bedtime. For a change, sleep had come quickly and easily, and he actually felt both rested and refreshed. After waking up earlier than usual, he'd spent a few minutes with a favorite book — ironically, the one Kara had been reading the previous day — and then had decided to go down to the officer's mess for breakfast. It wasn't something he normally did, preferring to eat in CIC or in his quarters rather than doing do where his presence might make others uncomfortable, but this morning he was feeling good.

The corridors weren't so crowded as they usually were when he reported for duty. There was an unusual quiet to morning, as though something were about to happen. Just as he began to wonder just what it was that he expected, he heard an unusual sound coming to the side corridor that led to the officer's mess.

It was laughter. Not humorous laughter, but a giggling kind such as he would expect from children. It was the vague familiarity in the sound that led him to investigate, easing into the passageway quietly towards the sound.

He recognized the reason for his familiarity with the sound almost immediately. It was the voices that he had known, rather than the pitch of the laughter. A masculine chuckle was mixed with a more feminine giggle, and he knew both of the voices quite well.

Lee had Kara pinned up against a recessed hatch, his body almost hiding hers in the process. He couldn't hear his son's words, but the amusement in them was clear. Kara answered something, also undistinguishable, but very feminine.

His son was dressed in simple military workout garb, sweat pants and the regulation tank tops. He had both arms up at shoulder level, with Kara stuck firmly between him and the hatch. The laughter faded as Lee leaned forward, obscuring Kara and making any arguments about their relationships academic.

As sweet as the moment was, he decided that it would be appropriate for a father to make his presence known before someone else did so. As a Commander, he also had a mild issue with such an obvious public display of affection between two of his officers. It was something he would likely turn his back on and walk away from if the officers were anyone else, but from his CAG and Lead Pilot he didn't feel it could be ignored. In addition, he couldn't help but see the humor in the situation.

Clearing his throat, he had the pleasure of watching his son jump a good three feet back, spinning with a comical look of embarrassment on his face. Kara didn't look much better as she ran a hand across her mouth and looked very intently at the floor.

"Good morning," he finally said, doing his best to put them out of their misery.

"Good morning," Lee answered, not meeting his eyes but at least able to speak. Kara wasn't doing quite that well. William thought it was sweet the way that Lee looked back at her and then stepped between the two of them. Chivalry was not dead on the Galactica. Kara took the opportunity to bury her face in Lee's back. "You're up early," Lee commented. Making conversation clearly wasn't his intent, but rather diverting attention from the woman hiding behind him.

"So it appears," Adama agreed, but he just couldn't keep the smile off his face. "I'm on my way to breakfast. What's your excuse?"

"Running," Lee answered, and William was glad to see that Kara's head had come up and she was now peeking over his son's shoulder.

"Is that what you're calling it now?" he said with a soft laugh.

"He tripped me," Kara admitted as she finally relaxed enough to step to the side, even able to look at him now.

"You tripped yourself," Lee argued as he looked at her sideways in mock indignation. "I kept you from falling."

"Right," she said while rolling her eyes. "Thanks a lot!"

"Well, I did," Lee argued, reaching over to punch her gently in the arm. Rather than taking offense, Kara grinned and punched him back, but at least she was smiling now.

"I'd like to suggest that you take this somewhere less public," William said, and he really wished that he could keep a straight face. The truth was, he could almost remember being that young, and so in love that he didn't care who was watching or what they had to say about it. It was something he didn't want to take away from them. Most especially he didn't want to take it from Lee, who normally didn't display much emotion at all in front of others.

"Yes, Sir," Lee replied, his face finally losing some of its humor. William was afraid he knew why, and he rushed to correct the misinterpretation.

"It's not that I mind," he assured them both. "But someone has to set an example, and I guess that's the two of you."

"That's a scary thought," Kara muttered with a sheepish grin.

"Isn't it, though," he agreed. "Have a good morning, you two."

"You too, Dad," Lee said softly, and William Adama felt something warm unfurl within him. It felt good to be called that again. Damned good.

He nodded to his son, then looked over at Kara. "What do you hear, Starbuck?" he asked, unable to resist their little tradition.

Kara's grin went ear to ear as she tucked her arm though Lee's and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Nothin' but the rain, Sir."

William laughed softly as he moved to walk past them on his way to breakfast. "Grab your gun and bring the cat in," he told her.

Lee gave her a curious look, but her gaze was on her Commander. "Boom, boom, boom," she told him with a grin.

William did his best to hide a smile as he left the young couple and walked towards the Officers' mess. He felt like he'd been doing a lot of that this morning, and yet he had no clue why he felt that he needed to hide anything. As he made another turn in the corridor, he ignored the return of laughter behind him and focused on the day.

He wondered if Kara would bother sharing their joke with is son. It didn't matter to him either way, but he could imagine that there were some things Kara might not be ready to share. Lee just might give her a hard time if she didn't, but they would get through it. Where there was love, there was understanding. Where there was love, there was forgiveness.

In the finally analysis, that was what made life worth living in the first place. Simple love. Because where there was love, there was hope. As long as there was hope, then the human race would go on. And the race was definitely alive and well at the moment, because he knew of one place in the fleet, on the Galactica, where there was most definitely love.

*

No, this isn't the end of the story, but chapters 17 and 18 definitely go into the R category. You can find them at my web site, but I cannot post links here e-mail me at jcwimmer@aol.com if you need the site address.

Thanks for reading!

-Crys-