The Death of Hope by Springwoof (Ways to Die Challenge)
The Death of Hope
Author: springwoof
Characters: Steven Caldwell, Hank Landry (hint of Weir/Caldwell)
Rating: PG
Length: approx. 2,000 words
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. This is a transformative work. I make no monetary gain from it.
Spoilers: SGA Season 2, 3, and 4, but especially for SGA 320 First Strike, and SGA Season 4's 401, 402, and 403: Adrift, Lifeline, and Reunion.
Notes: Grateful thanks to Leah for a swift and efficient beta.
Summary: During First Strike, Colonel Ellis and the Apollo make their first appearance. Did you ever wonder, like me, what ever happened to Colonel Caldwell and the Daedalus?
The Death of Hope
By Springwoof
"Greater than the death of flesh is the death of hope, the death of dreams." -G'Kar, Babylon 5: Z'ha'dum
Steven had showed up promptly at the designated tee time, even though golf wasn't really his sport-he was familiar with the facilities at the Country Club at Cheyenne Mountain Resort, but he preferred tennis or racquetball to golf. Sheppard was the golf man, Steven remembered. He didn't allow himself to shake his head at the irony. However, when General Hank Landry said to show up for tee time at 0800, you were there at 0800, whether golf was your game or not, even if you had to borrow a set of clubs.
Steven Caldwell knew when to put on the "good soldier" face and suck it up, and so he did, even as Hank Landry trash talked Steven's golf game and boasted about his own score. Landry had motivations other than beating a subordinate at a game that said subordinate played both badly and infrequently, so Steven set himself to wait until the General felt the time was right.
He looked out over the fairway, the lush green grass and trees unfamiliar and alien after months of the grey halls of his ship, the grey halls of the SGC, the vastness of space, and the jewel on the water that was the city of Atlantis. Against his will, his mind went back to the last time he'd been on Atlantis.
He'd stood on a balcony with Elizabeth Weir, overlooking the city and the stretch of Lantea's ocean that surrounded it. He'd made Elizabeth an invitation--half in jest and in full earnest, as his mother used to say. He remembered the look on Elizabeth's face: she'd looked surprised…and intrigued.
"Your daughter's wedding? You never told me you had a daughter, Steven," she'd said, tilting her head and curling her lips into that wry smile she had. "I didn't even know you were married."
He'd ducked his head, absurdly shy. "Widower, actually. No, don't." He forestalled the apology he could see on her lips. "There was no way you could have known. It's been more than two decades." He rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable now at having broached the subject. "Annie was three when we lost her mother to cancer. Now she's graduated university and found someone to start her own family with. I just thought- Well, it might be nice if her old man had someone to dance with at the reception."
Elizabeth's eyes were bright, her voice sincere. "In that case, I'm doubly flattered that you invited me. But are you sure there's no one back on Earth that you'd rather-"
"No. No one else." Steven looked out over the water. "There was no one after Laura. She was…unique. Irreplaceable. And between raising Annie and the Air Force, there was never enough time for a social life anyway. Now that Annie's getting married, it's just struck me that I can have a social life again." He gripped the balcony railing tightly, unable to meet Elizabeth's eyes. Prepared for her to gracefully decline the invitation, reject him and everything he'd just implied.
Steven jumped a little when Elizabeth lightly touched his arm. He turned to look at her. "I'd be honored, Steven." That smile had curled her mouth again as she raised her mug and sipped her Athosian tea. The Lantean morning sunlight reflecting off the water had emphasized the tiny lines of age and worry carved into her face. But that same radiance had also lit red-gold reflections in her dark hair and turned them into a halo, and made her smile dazzling.
In that moment, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.
Under the Colorado sunshine, it struck him forcefully that the city of Atlantis was on an entirely different world now. He'd never see that Lantean sea, or that particular gleam of sunlight on the water, again. He'd never see Elizabeth Weir again. Steven sent another innocent golf ball careening into the rough.
He'd have to remember to tell Annie to change the seating at the head table for the wedding next month. He had no intention of finding another date at the last minute. Elizabeth Weir had been…unique. There was no replacing her.
He'd honestly tried not to blame Colonel Ellis for what had happened. He knew Abe from way back, knew him as a good officer and a good man. He'd accomplished his primary mission and protected Earth from the Asurian Replicators. That he'd ended up essentially tossing Atlantis into the fire and sacrificing Elizabeth Weir in the effort hadn't detracted too much from that success, according to the Powers That Be at the SGC, the Pentagon, and the IOA.
But Steven knew that the Apollo was not the Daedalus, and that Abe Ellis was certainly not him. He would have done something, anything-whatever it took to protect Atlantis, like he always had, whether putting his ship's shields between the planet and a solar flare or going up against a fleet of hiveships. He would have gone along with whatever lunatic scheme Sheppard came up with, or whatever far-fetched technological solution McKay managed to cobble together. Between them, those two would have come up with some impossible plan to save the city, to save Elizabeth. And Steven knew they would have been able to pull it off-if only they'd had him and the Daedalus watching their backs.
Steven suspected that, unconsciously, they'd gotten far too used to having him at their backs, showing up in the nick of time to save them from the consequences of their outrageous plans. Only this time, he and the Daedalus had been in another galaxy, battling an Ori cruiser, when Atlantis needed them.
Steven has his suspicions about why that sudden change of assignments had happened as well. He'd become too obviously one of Elizabeth Weir's people. Sheppard and McKay were Elizabeth's right and left hands, ready to kill or die at her command. Somewhere along the line, during one harebrained stunt or another, he began to suspect that he had become one of Elizabeth’s men as well. When she’d asked him to go on that suicide mission to intercept the Wraith ship with the damaged Daedalus and the barely-functioning Orion, and he’d gone with hardly any hesitation, he’d known for sure that he’d joined that particular club. When Steven had refused to speak ill of Elizabeth or her command during the IOA's witch hunt, they'd known he was becoming too attached as well.
And that had been before there had been any hint of a more…personal…involvement between them.
Landry sunk his putt neatly on the first stroke. Steven didn't even remember which hole they were on, but knew his role enough to murmur, "Nice putt, General," in an appreciative tone.
Landry snorted. "You wouldn't know a decent putt if it bit you on the ass, Colonel."
Busted.
Steven met Landry's glance carefully, keeping a bland expression on his face. "In that case, General, would you mind filling me in on why we're out here?"
Landry's expression grew kindly, and Steven instantly put a tighter lock on his emotions. "I wanted the opportunity to speak with you in private, Colonel. That base that needs a new commander-you know the one I'm talking about…."
Steven nodded.
"Well, I'm sure you know that you were under consideration for the position. You were supposed to have been the military commander after all, if the IOA hadn't overruled the Pentagon on the decision." Landry was known for his plain, blunt speaking, but that was a bit impolitic even for him. Steven gave him a hum of acknowledgement, but didn't speak.
Landry pursed his lips. "I'll be straight with you, Steven. You didn't get the job this time either. I wanted to let you know before they announced it at the meeting tomorrow."
Steven took a breath. "Thank you for that, General. I appreciate the courtesy." He carefully lined up his putt, then looked over his shoulder at Landry and raised an eyebrow, casual as anything. "May I ask who is assuming Dr. Weir's position? Sheppard?"
"Hell no!" Landry snorted. Steven's putt went wildly askew. "Abe Ellis sounded him out, mind you, when the IOA was thinking of replacing Dr. Weir. Apparently the man has limits to his ambition. He doesn't want command of the entire expedition."
Steven nodded in acknowledgement and thought to himself, Sheppard would never betray Elizabeth, and that's essentially what they were asking him to do. His next putt came much closer to the cup.
"Actually, to be honest with you, there was a little pressure from Homeworld for this appointment," Landry continued.
"Oh?" Steven finally sunk his putt. Why is General O'Neill getting involved again?
"Yes." Landry shook his head, expression both rueful and fond. "I'll admit the officer they're choosing is a good fit for this position, but I'm thinking…just a tad young and lacking in real command experience. Not that anybody pays any attention to what I think anymore…."
Steven waited as patiently as possible, tapping the handle of the club gently with the edge of his hand while Landry updated the scorecard.
Eventually Landry spoke, not looking at him. "It's Colonel Carter."
"Oh." Steven looked out over the green, seeing a foursome approaching. He started back towards the golf cart. "She is a bit…young. I wonder how well she'll deal with Sheppard, since they're both the same rank."
Landry cleared his throat as he got behind the driver's seat of the cart. "That won't be a problem. She's being promoted to full Bird."
Steven looked out over the fairway, unseeing. "Don't know how much it will help. Never did much good for me-with Sheppard, anyway."
Landry didn't comment on that. Eventually, Steven forced himself to look over at the General again. "Well, I'll wish Colonel Carter good luck personally tomorrow. May I ask if you can give me some idea of what my assignment will be?"
"Oh, the Pentagon likes you right where you are, Steven," said Landry, with a heartiness that was too forced.
Steven nodded stiffly. "I'm happy to serve, General. As always." Fighting the Ori until the Daedalus ran into a Prior or ship they couldn't defeat. Stephen didn't mind the thought of dying in battle-and dying in a space battle even had a ring of romance to it-but dying from one of the plagues the Ori spawned wasn't as appealing.
And now he'd been officially passed over twice. The Daedalus would be as high as he would go. Not that the posting was small change by any means. Command of an intergalactic space ship with beyond-cutting-edge technology was a position any officer would envy. It was a position most Air Force officers could only dream of.
But-
Steven was beginning to think that it might be time for retirement, like Annie had hinted at more than once. He wanted to see his daughter married, wanted to live to see his grandchildren.
Maybe it was time to let younger officers take the reins, pull the heroics, make the sacrifices. He still had plenty of time to build a new career in the private sector. There were opportunities in any number of technology fields for a man who had an idea of what kinds of new toys were in the wings once they were declassified.
Steven was proud of his service. He'd done more than his share. Steven had faith that the SGC would keep Earth out of the hands of the Ori. They'd defeated the Goa'uld after all-even though the thought of the Goa'uld still gave him shudders, they weren't a threat to the Earth anymore. And Carter, Sheppard, and McKay would take care of Atlantis and the Pegasus Galaxy.
Steven Caldwell could walk away. Give all that up.
He'd only have one regret. It was embodied in the memory of a certain morning on a balcony overlooking the ocean of another world, the sunlight sparkling off the water, and the warmth of an extraordinary woman's hand in his.
###
Author: springwoof
Characters: Steven Caldwell, Hank Landry (hint of Weir/Caldwell)
Rating: PG
Length: approx. 2,000 words
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. This is a transformative work. I make no monetary gain from it.
Spoilers: SGA Season 2, 3, and 4, but especially for SGA 320 First Strike, and SGA Season 4's 401, 402, and 403: Adrift, Lifeline, and Reunion.
Notes: Grateful thanks to Leah for a swift and efficient beta.
Summary: During First Strike, Colonel Ellis and the Apollo make their first appearance. Did you ever wonder, like me, what ever happened to Colonel Caldwell and the Daedalus?
The Death of Hope
By Springwoof
"Greater than the death of flesh is the death of hope, the death of dreams." -G'Kar, Babylon 5: Z'ha'dum
Steven had showed up promptly at the designated tee time, even though golf wasn't really his sport-he was familiar with the facilities at the Country Club at Cheyenne Mountain Resort, but he preferred tennis or racquetball to golf. Sheppard was the golf man, Steven remembered. He didn't allow himself to shake his head at the irony. However, when General Hank Landry said to show up for tee time at 0800, you were there at 0800, whether golf was your game or not, even if you had to borrow a set of clubs.
Steven Caldwell knew when to put on the "good soldier" face and suck it up, and so he did, even as Hank Landry trash talked Steven's golf game and boasted about his own score. Landry had motivations other than beating a subordinate at a game that said subordinate played both badly and infrequently, so Steven set himself to wait until the General felt the time was right.
He looked out over the fairway, the lush green grass and trees unfamiliar and alien after months of the grey halls of his ship, the grey halls of the SGC, the vastness of space, and the jewel on the water that was the city of Atlantis. Against his will, his mind went back to the last time he'd been on Atlantis.
He'd stood on a balcony with Elizabeth Weir, overlooking the city and the stretch of Lantea's ocean that surrounded it. He'd made Elizabeth an invitation--half in jest and in full earnest, as his mother used to say. He remembered the look on Elizabeth's face: she'd looked surprised…and intrigued.
"Your daughter's wedding? You never told me you had a daughter, Steven," she'd said, tilting her head and curling her lips into that wry smile she had. "I didn't even know you were married."
He'd ducked his head, absurdly shy. "Widower, actually. No, don't." He forestalled the apology he could see on her lips. "There was no way you could have known. It's been more than two decades." He rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable now at having broached the subject. "Annie was three when we lost her mother to cancer. Now she's graduated university and found someone to start her own family with. I just thought- Well, it might be nice if her old man had someone to dance with at the reception."
Elizabeth's eyes were bright, her voice sincere. "In that case, I'm doubly flattered that you invited me. But are you sure there's no one back on Earth that you'd rather-"
"No. No one else." Steven looked out over the water. "There was no one after Laura. She was…unique. Irreplaceable. And between raising Annie and the Air Force, there was never enough time for a social life anyway. Now that Annie's getting married, it's just struck me that I can have a social life again." He gripped the balcony railing tightly, unable to meet Elizabeth's eyes. Prepared for her to gracefully decline the invitation, reject him and everything he'd just implied.
Steven jumped a little when Elizabeth lightly touched his arm. He turned to look at her. "I'd be honored, Steven." That smile had curled her mouth again as she raised her mug and sipped her Athosian tea. The Lantean morning sunlight reflecting off the water had emphasized the tiny lines of age and worry carved into her face. But that same radiance had also lit red-gold reflections in her dark hair and turned them into a halo, and made her smile dazzling.
In that moment, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.
Under the Colorado sunshine, it struck him forcefully that the city of Atlantis was on an entirely different world now. He'd never see that Lantean sea, or that particular gleam of sunlight on the water, again. He'd never see Elizabeth Weir again. Steven sent another innocent golf ball careening into the rough.
He'd have to remember to tell Annie to change the seating at the head table for the wedding next month. He had no intention of finding another date at the last minute. Elizabeth Weir had been…unique. There was no replacing her.
He'd honestly tried not to blame Colonel Ellis for what had happened. He knew Abe from way back, knew him as a good officer and a good man. He'd accomplished his primary mission and protected Earth from the Asurian Replicators. That he'd ended up essentially tossing Atlantis into the fire and sacrificing Elizabeth Weir in the effort hadn't detracted too much from that success, according to the Powers That Be at the SGC, the Pentagon, and the IOA.
But Steven knew that the Apollo was not the Daedalus, and that Abe Ellis was certainly not him. He would have done something, anything-whatever it took to protect Atlantis, like he always had, whether putting his ship's shields between the planet and a solar flare or going up against a fleet of hiveships. He would have gone along with whatever lunatic scheme Sheppard came up with, or whatever far-fetched technological solution McKay managed to cobble together. Between them, those two would have come up with some impossible plan to save the city, to save Elizabeth. And Steven knew they would have been able to pull it off-if only they'd had him and the Daedalus watching their backs.
Steven suspected that, unconsciously, they'd gotten far too used to having him at their backs, showing up in the nick of time to save them from the consequences of their outrageous plans. Only this time, he and the Daedalus had been in another galaxy, battling an Ori cruiser, when Atlantis needed them.
Steven has his suspicions about why that sudden change of assignments had happened as well. He'd become too obviously one of Elizabeth Weir's people. Sheppard and McKay were Elizabeth's right and left hands, ready to kill or die at her command. Somewhere along the line, during one harebrained stunt or another, he began to suspect that he had become one of Elizabeth’s men as well. When she’d asked him to go on that suicide mission to intercept the Wraith ship with the damaged Daedalus and the barely-functioning Orion, and he’d gone with hardly any hesitation, he’d known for sure that he’d joined that particular club. When Steven had refused to speak ill of Elizabeth or her command during the IOA's witch hunt, they'd known he was becoming too attached as well.
And that had been before there had been any hint of a more…personal…involvement between them.
Landry sunk his putt neatly on the first stroke. Steven didn't even remember which hole they were on, but knew his role enough to murmur, "Nice putt, General," in an appreciative tone.
Landry snorted. "You wouldn't know a decent putt if it bit you on the ass, Colonel."
Busted.
Steven met Landry's glance carefully, keeping a bland expression on his face. "In that case, General, would you mind filling me in on why we're out here?"
Landry's expression grew kindly, and Steven instantly put a tighter lock on his emotions. "I wanted the opportunity to speak with you in private, Colonel. That base that needs a new commander-you know the one I'm talking about…."
Steven nodded.
"Well, I'm sure you know that you were under consideration for the position. You were supposed to have been the military commander after all, if the IOA hadn't overruled the Pentagon on the decision." Landry was known for his plain, blunt speaking, but that was a bit impolitic even for him. Steven gave him a hum of acknowledgement, but didn't speak.
Landry pursed his lips. "I'll be straight with you, Steven. You didn't get the job this time either. I wanted to let you know before they announced it at the meeting tomorrow."
Steven took a breath. "Thank you for that, General. I appreciate the courtesy." He carefully lined up his putt, then looked over his shoulder at Landry and raised an eyebrow, casual as anything. "May I ask who is assuming Dr. Weir's position? Sheppard?"
"Hell no!" Landry snorted. Steven's putt went wildly askew. "Abe Ellis sounded him out, mind you, when the IOA was thinking of replacing Dr. Weir. Apparently the man has limits to his ambition. He doesn't want command of the entire expedition."
Steven nodded in acknowledgement and thought to himself, Sheppard would never betray Elizabeth, and that's essentially what they were asking him to do. His next putt came much closer to the cup.
"Actually, to be honest with you, there was a little pressure from Homeworld for this appointment," Landry continued.
"Oh?" Steven finally sunk his putt. Why is General O'Neill getting involved again?
"Yes." Landry shook his head, expression both rueful and fond. "I'll admit the officer they're choosing is a good fit for this position, but I'm thinking…just a tad young and lacking in real command experience. Not that anybody pays any attention to what I think anymore…."
Steven waited as patiently as possible, tapping the handle of the club gently with the edge of his hand while Landry updated the scorecard.
Eventually Landry spoke, not looking at him. "It's Colonel Carter."
"Oh." Steven looked out over the green, seeing a foursome approaching. He started back towards the golf cart. "She is a bit…young. I wonder how well she'll deal with Sheppard, since they're both the same rank."
Landry cleared his throat as he got behind the driver's seat of the cart. "That won't be a problem. She's being promoted to full Bird."
Steven looked out over the fairway, unseeing. "Don't know how much it will help. Never did much good for me-with Sheppard, anyway."
Landry didn't comment on that. Eventually, Steven forced himself to look over at the General again. "Well, I'll wish Colonel Carter good luck personally tomorrow. May I ask if you can give me some idea of what my assignment will be?"
"Oh, the Pentagon likes you right where you are, Steven," said Landry, with a heartiness that was too forced.
Steven nodded stiffly. "I'm happy to serve, General. As always." Fighting the Ori until the Daedalus ran into a Prior or ship they couldn't defeat. Stephen didn't mind the thought of dying in battle-and dying in a space battle even had a ring of romance to it-but dying from one of the plagues the Ori spawned wasn't as appealing.
And now he'd been officially passed over twice. The Daedalus would be as high as he would go. Not that the posting was small change by any means. Command of an intergalactic space ship with beyond-cutting-edge technology was a position any officer would envy. It was a position most Air Force officers could only dream of.
But-
Steven was beginning to think that it might be time for retirement, like Annie had hinted at more than once. He wanted to see his daughter married, wanted to live to see his grandchildren.
Maybe it was time to let younger officers take the reins, pull the heroics, make the sacrifices. He still had plenty of time to build a new career in the private sector. There were opportunities in any number of technology fields for a man who had an idea of what kinds of new toys were in the wings once they were declassified.
Steven was proud of his service. He'd done more than his share. Steven had faith that the SGC would keep Earth out of the hands of the Ori. They'd defeated the Goa'uld after all-even though the thought of the Goa'uld still gave him shudders, they weren't a threat to the Earth anymore. And Carter, Sheppard, and McKay would take care of Atlantis and the Pegasus Galaxy.
Steven Caldwell could walk away. Give all that up.
He'd only have one regret. It was embodied in the memory of a certain morning on a balcony overlooking the ocean of another world, the sunlight sparkling off the water, and the warmth of an extraordinary woman's hand in his.
###