Epilogue
J. R. Reed Space Terminal, Washington, DC
March 5, 2284
As the back of the tan coloured jacket disappeared into the wormhole, Cassandra Klerk breathed a sigh heavy with memories. What she had just done had been hard, but easier then she had thought it would be, to see those four again for it was as she said—she hardly recognised them for they were young and not the aged faces that she cherished in her memories.
Cassie thought fleetingly of their 1960s clothing, having a feeling that fashion was about to make a revival, as she turned her head to the left as the wormhole disconnected and gave a firm nod of her head.
Dim surroundings lit only by the wormhole’s luminance and guiding lights along the ramp were overwhelmed by the winter sunlight pouring through the multiple skylights. Dust and sheet covered equipment and walls vanishing to reveal the spacious and pristine interior of the J. R. Reed Space Terminal.
The interactive holographic environment shut down to reveal more then just starkly different surroundings. It also revealed the crowd of affluent people and media that had watched and waiting with eager anticipation for this chance to see the famous SG-1 in the prime of their lives.
A handsome sandy haired man with hazel eyes stepped forward from the rest of the crowd alone and upon reaching her side spoke, “Thank you for allowing us to witness this momentous event.”
Cassie smiled widely at the young man as she reached out and gave his hand an affectionate squeeze, “You are welcome, for you of all people deserve to see them.”
He looked back towards the massive naquadah ring that now sat so quietly, a look of awe still in his eyes at what he and his family had just had the privilege to see.
“Mr O’Neill?” a voice spoke from behind the man and as he and Cassie turned to the voice they looked at the aid that stood a respectful distance away. “Mr President, the public is waiting.”
“Yes, yes,” the United Worlds president turned back to Cassie and returned the affectionate hand squeeze that she had given him before tucking it onto his forearm to support her as they turned and began moving slowly, at her pace, towards the group of people with the aid now at their back. “Thank you again. What will you do now?”
“I believe I have a mission report to finish,” Cassie remarked with amusement as she looked at the remote dialling device on her hand and thought of the years that Sam had spent tailor engineering the device for her with the assistance of Asgärd scientists to fulfill the self-fulfilling prophecy that was this mission.
UW President O’Neill chuckled, “You will be joining us at the embassy later won’t you? Faith and Charity are looking forward to spending time with their Grandma Cassie.”
“And you Ryan? Are you looking forward to spending time with your Grandma Cassie?” Cassie teased the young man.
Ryan O’Neill gave the older woman a serious look. “You know I am Grandma. I can’t imagine what seeing them is like, how difficult it was, especially…”
Cassie’s amusement and smile faded as she grew more sombre. There was no need for Ryan to clarify how hard it had been to see them again decades after their death and the tragic circumstances that surrounded the deaths of the two galactic heroes of the Confederation.
She used the hand resting on his forearm to give him a pat. As they reached the crowd, she smiled at Ryan’s daughters Faith and Charity who stood vibrating with excitement beside their mother.
The UW president’s family smiled at the two hundred ninety-nine year old woman—who appeared to be in her sixties thanks to the Aschen anti-aging vaccine she had received as a young woman—that had been a fixture in their family’s line stretching back ten generations to their iconic ancestors. While at first she had been called ‘Aunt Cassie’ as the generations had passed, carrying on the family tradition of choosing to not use life extension drugs and age naturally, she had become ‘Grandma Cassie’ because of her age and slowly aging appearance.
As they moved into the respectfully waiting crowd, Ryan leaned down and brushed a kiss against Cassie’s aged cheek before reaching for his wife’s hand. Then he departed the terminal with his family and most of the other people privileged enough to be present.
Cassie turned back to look at the small group that remained; the supervising terminal officials, the interactive holographic environment operators who had worked on dismantling the devices even as she and Ryan had spoken, and her husband.
Dominic offered his arm to his wife and they linked them together. Slowly they began following the terminal official that would escort them to a side door and transport pad outside the terminal to avoid the massive crush of public and media that was waiting outside the terminal’s main entrance for the UW president and other nation presidents and representatives for the press conference about the event that had just happened.
“That was quite something,” Dominic mustered as they slowly covered the distance to their destination.
Cassie looked curiously at her husband before realisation struck, “Ah yes, you never saw them when they were that young did you?”
Dominic shook his head. “I have seen pictures of them, but never them in person or in such outlandish clothing. And as you said, even knowing who would appear it was hard recognising Daniel with hair.”
“Yes, their features have quite changed in the years but their eyes, ah their eyes were very much the same.” She knew that was how Sam had recognised her, by her eyes. But thinking of eyes brought her mind back to the sorrowful time she had last seen Jack’s dark eyes… eyes that had not been the rich, lively eyes of the forty-five year old active colonel that had just entered the stargate but the bleak, dead eyes of the eighty-seven year old retired resistance commander.
Cassie’s mind thought back to that tragic day in 2039 when a natural disaster of a mudslide, a failed vehicle safety shield, and bones made fragile simply from age, had instantly taken the life of the most brilliant woman on Earth. Samantha O’Neill. How Earth had mourned her loss for her lifelong contribution to science, her commanding of Operation Quarantine Phase II for Earth in 2010, and her genuine warmth and engaging personality—indeed, the Confederation had mourned her.
But even as the Confederation and galaxy mourned there had been some solace that Jack O’Neill had survived with minor injuries and was expected to make a full recovery. She too had taken solace in that until that night in the hospital room when Jack had awakened for the first and only time since the accident.
Awakened to learn that his wife of thirty-nine years was dead.
Even with his hospital room filled with family—children, grandchildren, and his first great-grandchildren—and close friends like Daniel and Teal’c—his eyes had died. Somehow, just somehow, she had known leaving that room that night that she would get a call later telling her that Jack had gone to sleep and never woken up.
His death just hours after announcing he would make a full recovery had baffled the doctors and other specialist attending him. Even her mother, who had been advising and had seen him survive so much worse physical injury, had been baffled. The only ones who seemed to understand then, had been herself, Teal’c, and Daniel who had seen such death in Jack’s eyes before.
Together Sam and Jack had been buried with all the honour and ceremony the Confederation could give them and the galaxy had noted, and mourned, their loss. But none more so than their family by blood and by choice.
Decades had passed and age had slowly claimed the last members of SG-1: Teal’c had died in 2096 and Daniel in 2190. Other members of SGC had been claimed as well, Louis Ferretti, the infamous hero-pilot Jorge Harmon, the clone of George Hammond in 2049, Walter Harriman, Bill Lee, Sylvester Siler, Tracy Westerholm, and so many more.
Her mother had died in 2205 and she and Dominic had lived on because of their youth when inoculated by the Aschen’s anti-aging and sterilisation drug. Lived on though all those deaths and the growth of the O’Neill family until ten generations later, the great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandson of Jack and Samantha O’Neill—Ryan Jack O’Neill led a greater Confederation than the one they had freed in 2010. One that encompassed the original forty-three confederation planets, then the one thousand one hundred ninety-two planets of the resistance, and finally hundred more worlds and nations as humans spread and grew to populate the galaxy.
And she, she had fulfilled the task that she had been waiting for her whole life since Sam had revealed it to her two hundred seventy-four years ago in the secret bunker on the O’Neill farm.
But ah, what a journey it had been.