CHAPTER 8: AND NOW…THE CONCLUSION

Colonel Caldwell, the bald insufferable schizophrenic that was the ranking military officer on Atlantis, was now dead. Someone had a good shove and pushed him right over the balcony. On the way down, if you stood to listen (though, no offense, that be a pretty disturbing thing to do) you could hear him yell: "Black, Bloody Mutiny" on the way down. Even to his death, his only concern was mutiny. Someone could have called him obsessed! But er, I think schizophrenic pretty much covers it. No need to start adding other disorders, though I'm sure he was Obsessive-Compulsive and maybe even depressed. But seriously? The lesson learned here today was that you should never try to solve your mental problems by accusing everyone around you of mutiny. It just doesn't work.

Our lovable heroes, Dr. Weir and Col. Sheppard and his team, were running scattered through the city when the message was relayed over the city's intercom:

"Medical Emergency in Control Room! All teams halt search, return to normal."

It was a little strange for the team. They had just started the exciting chase and it had all been called off, for some medical emergency. Caldwell wouldn't have done that for anyone's life. He'd accuse his gran of mutiny if he had the chance.

Sheppard was sneaking about some empty corridors when the message was sent over the city. I don't know where he's been, really, because I blinked when it all happened. I also left for a cup of tea. I'm sorry. Now we don't even know if Col. Sheppard is innocent of the mutinous murder.

But at least we know it wasn't Ford. When they had scattered, Ford did what any sane mentally unstable man would do – he jumped in a jumper and took off through the gate. I suppose he could have push Caldwell before he left in the jumper, but that's a little too speedy for our timeframe.

Really, it could have been anybody. It could have been you for all I know! …Except you're not in the story, good point. I suppose it could have been me, but I think I'm innocent in the matter – I was getting a cup of tea!

The team rushed back to the control room, curious as to what transpired. They all gathered in the balcony, a hushed silence falling on them as they realized what had occurred: Caldwell had been tossed over the railing.

Beckett was the first to speak: "I don't understand. Why did you call a medical team down here, son?" Beckett turned to stare at the lowly Lieutenant with no name or purpose, who had made the call. "He's dead. He fell god knows how many feet into the ocean. What do you want me to do? Yell to see if he's okay?"

"Except you can't, he's dead," Sheppard said, nodding, as if Beckett didn't know this fact.

Beckett sighed and put his things away.

Weir was giving Sheppard a scrutinizing eye.

"Where were you when this happened, Colonel?"

"Where were you?" He turned on her.

"I seriously doubt it was Sheppard," McKay rolled his eyes, "He couldn't even stop Hobbes from…" He cleared his throat and proceeded to stare at the sky.

"From what?" Weir turned to McKay, now.

"From beating the crap outta him," Sheppard nodded as if this were funny.

"Okay, no, this is serious," Weir laid out her hands. "We have to account for his death. If one of us did this…regardless of who Caldwell was, this is a serious offense. This is murder."

"Maybe he just thought he was pushed over the edge," Sheppard shrugged casually, yawning. He was beginning to feel numb.

"What?" Beckett and Weir sounded at the same time.

"You know, how he was so paranoid about one of us conspiring to commit mutiny, that he got paranoid about someone pushing him over the edge, too. Maybe it was the thought that killed him!"

"Colonel, forgive me, but that doesn't make any bloody sense."

"It's a theory, a theoretical theory based on science."

"There was no science behind any of that gibberish!" McKay was looking rather disgruntled underneath his black eyes.

"Well, I think he just pushed himself over. Anyway, come on, group hug." Sheppard gathered his teammates in for a warming, heart-felt hug. "If it makes you all feel better, we can just say a Wraith did it."

It was a pretty awkward moment.

"Hey, where's Ford?" Sheppard suddenly pulled back, his eyes slurred and half-closed.

"He took off through the Gate…" Weir looked down to the ground.

"Turns out he was addicted to Wraith enzyme drugs, from when he was joined in that attack – we never knew, until I enforced those routine physicals and I noticed the disappearance of our stores of the enzyme."

"He has gone to find more of it," Teyla added darkly.

Sheppard laughed heartily. "That crazy Ford, what ever will he think of next."

Those were the last words of Colonel John Sheppard before he fainted away in a heap on the ground.

They never did find out who the murderer was…

McKay insisted he would have never worked up the courage to do that sort of thing – "Remember what happened with Hobbes?"

Teyla glared at the very accusation. It wasn't a very honourable thing to do. I dunno, I doubt it was Teyla. Not the type, eh?

Dr. Weir denied it as well; she was near the medical lab when it had happened. I'd be surprised, though – after all those rants about responsibility and humanity and she goes to push a man off a balcony? Hmmm.

Dr. Beckett is one who saves life, not takes it away! That's his defense. Besides, people can vouch for his whereabouts in the Infirmary.

Ford is gone. But it might have been him..hmmm…

And Sheppard…well Sheppard actually couldn't remember (when he later woke up) where he had been and what he had been doing. Crewmen had later reported that he had found himself in the canteen with a keg of Athosian beer.

I think it was Dr. Heightmeyer, that dodgy fuitbasket!

In conclusion, Caldwell got what he deserved. And Sheppard now has hallucinatory visions of Darth Vader to this day.

The End.