Stargate: Crossgate

UF: Stories written by users, both fanfics and original.

Moderator: LadyTevar

Post Reply
Lord Hierarch
Redshirt
Posts: 21
Joined: 2010-12-29 03:37pm

Stargate: Crossgate

Post by Lord Hierarch »

MJ-12 HQ, New York City
Year: 1992


Director O’Neil (with one ‘l’) took a deep breath, watching his people make their way to their objective. This was the largest operation in the history of Majestic-12, one that could either prove disastrous for the organization or show the others that they had the force to supplement their intelligence network. He had invested heavily in preparing his people because a lot rested on the success of this operation.

He grimaced.

Would his predecessors have intervened in affairs beyond the borders of the United States? No, they wouldn’t have. Anything that didn’t directly involve the United States wasn’t considered important enough for them to do anything about it. What was happening in India would have been ignored by any other man, but then he wasn’t like any other men.

As old as he was he hadn’t lost any of his common sense or air of intimidation. There was a reason why he was the Director of MJ-12 and it wasn’t because he was some ol’ softy. He’d seen and done things that no one on the planet could possibly imagine and the people who recruited him knew that and they wanted that.

There was a damn good reason why he had scaled up the ranks of MJ-12 so quickly as opposed to the younger and more eager recruits and held onto his vaulted and dangerously tipsy position for more than two decades. People knew that, and everyone else in MAJIC knew that. To be the Director of the United States premier Institute of Extraterrestrial technology meant you had to be smart and do what was necessary to keep the truth from the public and makes the choices on who lived and who died.

He wondered if Hammond, not the middle-aged man that had left the agency but the General that, in five years, would bring him out of retirement, had done things he had done. He doubted it – MAJIC was nothing like what Hammond had run. He wasn’t proud of some of the things he had done but everything he did was for the greater good: not just for the United States but for the world.

“Oh Hammond,” he muttered.

The poor guy didn’t know the trouble he was in. If it wasn’t easy to get accepted into Majestic 12, he thought, how the hell did the guy think it would be so simple to leave it?

It wasn’t that easy.

He grimaced. Hammond would learn that soon enough.

O’Neil glanced at the latest in a long line of reports that had been piling up on his desk. A quarter of the papers were requests and papers he needed to authorize and the rest... the rest were from his “off world” agents. He cracked a wry grin at the phrase – getting to go to other nations would be as close to getting off world as these people would get. He felt a bit bad for these people, but not that much.

He shifted through the papers: a request for funding to excavate a newly discovered Mayan Pyramid in Mexico (he’d have to suppress its discovery for five more years), reports on the movements of the Cult of Setesh, the findings on the Beta 5 Computer that had been found in a rundown apartment a few blocks from here... oh, well that was new. He’d have Mr. Seven check that out along with Mr. Christopher. The two worked very well together.

He ran a hand through his thinning hairline and sighed. There was so much more paperwork here. Paper work – he would really enjoy this position if they could get rid of paper work forever.

“Sir?”

He glanced up, a shadowy figure standing behind his door. “I’m aware,” he said tiredly.

The figure retreated.

In a somber tone he began: “We are the most powerful Intelligence agency in the history of man. Every fight is our fight now because what happens over there, matters over here. Torchwood failed to stop Kahn and his rouge army of Augments and now they’ve acquired Torchwoods caches of alien technology. The threat that Kahn represents not just to India but to the world now cannot be underestimated. There has not been a threat of this magnitude in the history of MJ-12. We don't get to sit one out no matter how much we want to. History is written by the victors. What happens in India will decide who writes it. Let’s get to work and write that history.”

He closed the channel and sighed.

The die had been cast. There was no going back. Even as he talked, even as he gave his speech, battalions worth of soldiers were landing in Somalia, Peru, Haiti, and Rwanda and elsewhere. Agents and armored vehicles were landing on India, Liberia, Tajikistan and Iraq, taking over while Torchwood licked its bloody wounds.

Iraq... how about that, he thought. The Gulf War had ‘officially’ ended a year ago but then again, there was a reason why Frank Cromwell and his team were still in Iraq.

Not because of terrorists, as they’d been told.

He chuckled and, slowly, his smile fell. No, he was wrong. Things were different here, and he was sure that MJ-12 didn't exist in his world, the 'OTL' as Daniel and Carter put it. Either way, Cromwell, Kawalsky and O’Neill, the man he used to be, wouldn’t know the truth about the increase in ‘terrorist attacks’ and ‘natural disasters’ for almost a decade. But by the time they learned, hopefully, Earth would be ready for what lied beyond this little planet, the monsters and horrors that Earth would have to challenge and defeat.

He got up, and walked away from his desk towards the large window that dominated a quarter of his office. It was made from transparent aluminum, a revolutionary type of material that was as transparent as glass but had the strength and density of high-grade aluminum. The material was derived from the Los Angeles ship, and the only reason Plexicorp had access to it was because MJ-12 owned Plexicorp.

He’d bought it after all.

“Times have changed, haven’t they,” he said mirthlessly as he looked down like an ancient God on the people who went along their lives, unaware of the war being waged under their noses. How many of them would be caught in the crossfire, he wondered.

How many would die?

Too many,’ he knew.

If Carter were still alive, he mused bitterly, she would have chastised him for changing history. But history was already changed, the existence of this organization and its counterpart proved that. The best he could do was minimize the ‘butterfly effects’ (as Daniel called it) and hope that things went according to schedule the way he remembered them.

He couldn’t everything though, some things he would have to go along with. Hammond being indoctrinated to MJ-12, being one example. There was also MAJIC’s acquisition of their zat’s, staff weapon and other weapons from ’69, the aliens that crashed at Carbon Creek in ’57, or the Asgard ships that were being torn apart in Area 51.

He couldn’t change them

Whatever happened though, he knew that when the Stargate was opened, the Goa’uld would be put in a world of hurt. The SGC had taken out their fair share of Goa’uld in two years and MAJIC had more resources and people to draw on that the SGC could have only dreamed of. When the Stargate was opened, Earth would be ready.

“To the future,” he whispered.
User avatar
The Romulan Republic
Emperor's Hand
Posts: 21559
Joined: 2008-10-15 01:37am

Re: Stargate: Crossgate

Post by The Romulan Republic »

Intriguing, though the grammar, I think, could use some improvements.

Quite a large number of crossovers you're bringing in. I see Star Trek, Doctor Who/Torchwood, and UFO/Conspiracy theories (Majestic 12). I have a feeling there's more, but those are the only ones I spotted.
Lord Hierarch
Redshirt
Posts: 21
Joined: 2010-12-29 03:37pm

Re: Stargate: Crossgate

Post by Lord Hierarch »

The Romulan Republic wrote:Intriguing, though the grammar, I think, could use some improvements.
Oh? What sort of errors?
The Romulan Republic wrote:Quite a large number of crossovers you're bringing in. I see Star Trek, Doctor Who/Torchwood, and UFO/Conspiracy theories (Majestic 12). I have a feeling there's more, but those are the only ones I spotted.
Those are the basics. I plan on including one or two. The problem with this fusion story is keeping within canon but allowing creativity.

So, does anyone have any suggestions for future inclusions?
User avatar
Atlan
Jedi Knight
Posts: 598
Joined: 2002-11-30 09:39pm

Re: Stargate: Crossgate

Post by Atlan »

Lord Hierarch wrote: So, does anyone have any suggestions for future inclusions?
The MIB do not aprove of all these shenenigans involving alien tech. Director O'Neil should be less... obvious with any use. Or he'll forget he ever had access to any of it.
"A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly.
Specialization is for insects."
R.A. Heinlein.
Lord Hierarch
Redshirt
Posts: 21
Joined: 2010-12-29 03:37pm

Re: Stargate: Crossgate

Post by Lord Hierarch »

Atlan wrote:
Lord Hierarch wrote: So, does anyone have any suggestions for future inclusions?
The MIB do not aprove of all these shenenigans involving alien tech. Director O'Neil should be less... obvious with any use. Or he'll forget he ever had access to any of it.
Ooh, sorry. MJ-12 Agents are called Men In Black. Plus it would he hard to have so many aliens living. MJ-12 is contending with Torchwood and the two have had a Cold War going on since the 50's going around the world trying to find alien tech.
User avatar
FaxModem1
Emperor's Hand
Posts: 7700
Joined: 2002-10-30 06:40pm
Location: In a dark reflection of a better world

Re: Stargate: Crossgate

Post by FaxModem1 »

So, is this an alternate timeline from the Stargate episode 1969? Only with crossovers with Star Trek, Doctor Who, etc.?
Image
Lord Hierarch
Redshirt
Posts: 21
Joined: 2010-12-29 03:37pm

Re: Stargate: Crossgate

Post by Lord Hierarch »

:shock:
Well, essentially yes! Wow, that describes this entire story idea really.
.
.
.
Palace of the Great Khan, Chandigarh
Year: 1992


For obvious security reasons the summit was to be held in a bombproof bunker several levels below the palace. A mirrored ceiling provided the illusion of open space while also allowing wary bodyguards to view the proceeding from an extra angle when they came. But for the moment the bunker was empty, devoid of the superior life forms that would soon enter. Rather than wait like a normal human by wasting the mind on trivial pursuits and games, the great Khan Noonien Singh busied himself with work.

The Great Khanate was spread over thirty seven nations and his influence reached far beyond their borders, into the troubled revolutions of Eastern Europe, China and Russia, his tendrils snaked their way into the disunited countries of Africa and South America and even to the United States. He knew his destiny was to rule the world and lead it into a Golden Age, and even now he prepared himself for that fate. He, the superior man, was destined to be the next Alexander, the man to conquer the world. He was no fool though.

As intelligent as he was though, despite his network of spies and constant monitoring of his rivals and potential threats he knew that he could unite the world by his lonesome. He was but one superhuman leading less than forty nations against a world of bitter and unknowing humans who were tormented by disease and hunger. Even he could not conquer a world with a population in the billions with such a small nation, as powerful as it was.

It was why he didn’t intend to conquer the world alone.

From his balcony at the highest level of his Palace he watched the inferior masses go about their business, unaware of the work that was occurring beneath their feet’s, unaware that a Golden Age of Man would emerge from right beneath them. His rivals had taken the initiative, he knew, seeking to curb his influence around the world. “Torchwood and Majestic-12” he said disdainfully, turning back to his room. He could not believe that such powerful agencies like them could want to deny the world the peace that he offered.

It had taken time without the use of Mr. Seven’s unique computer to locate the other children of Project Chrysalis but with Torchwood-India’s advanced and unearthly technologies he had located them all. From around the world they had heeded his call, from the American heartland to the frozen winters of the Soviet Union, from the war torn Balkans to the apartheid-diseased South Africa, they were all coming. If one super-human could forcibly unite forty nations from the shadows into a single political entity, what could a hundred super-humans accomplish then?

Naturally only handfuls were coming, the most powerful of all the super-humans that survived. They were a diverse lot he knew, each tainted by the histories and events of their adopted nations: A Balkan dictator, a Somalian Warlord, a charismatic Peruvian revolutionary, an exiled Chinese superwoman, the commander of an American anti-government militia and the self-proclaimed God of a millennial cult.

He paused at his bed, staring at the piles of folders and papers that had accumulated on them. He had taken careful measures to analyze what little information he had on each of them and while they had little on the surface; their DNA heritage would bind them together. ‘I, we, owe it to the world’ he thought with unrestricted passion, ‘to combine and use our superior minds to improve the world.’

Yet still his rivals dared challenge him, dared mock his ambitions. Why couldn’t they see what he was trying to do, the goal that all men strove for? Complete peace in a world constantly maimed by war and famine and disease, a world that was always engaged in warfare, a world so disunited and chaotic. He wanted to do away with that, to make the world a better place. But the men and women of his two foes refused to see that, refused to acknowledge the good that he was trying to do and so he was now forced to fight.

Yesterday he had shown the arrogant Americans they weren’t invulnerable. Despite the land and water that separated the Great Khanate from the United States he had bombed the World Trade Center and left his mark to show them that he was more than capable of striking them even with his followers around the world being attacked. A month earlier, he had one of his followers fire an AK-47 right in front of the CIA, killing two and wounded three more. Even from their vaulted homeland he wanted them to know that they wouldn’t be untouched. They started this war, he thought savagely and he would end it when their blood paid the cost for their unprovoked attacks.

Yes, he would make them pay.

The technology that Torchwood-India offered him was incredible, years ahead of anything the common man had. He had studied the files on Torchwood’s computers but he had only barely scrapped the surface of all the knowledge that was locked away. As much as he wanted to find out where all of the technology that had made founding the Khanate came from, his focus was primarily on Chrysalis, a project that Torchwood-India had funded, ironically enough.

He was intrigued by the mention of a man named Flint who, apparently, had was supposedly an immortal. An Alteran he called himself, remembering the files he read on his many interrogations. For a moment he considered that the vast cache of knowledge Torchwood had accumulated in this facility alone was of extraterrestrial origin but again dismissed the thought.

Ridiculous.

But then again, was it really with the rumors of alien contacts that were running rampant across the world?

Of course it was he told himself.

Aliens – preposterous!

Of course he had to be careful. Unlike Torchwood the American agency was more devious, willing to sacrifice their own people in order to achieve their goals. But they were two organizations against the might of his Khanate, horribly outmatched in terms of resources and manpower. He would fight in the shadows for the time being, building of his strength until he was ready to show the world his intents.

He glanced at the clock and prepared to change.

The others would be coming soon.
Vares
Redshirt
Posts: 1
Joined: 2010-03-28 09:30am

Re: Stargate: Crossgate

Post by Vares »

Okay, with all the crossovers Earth is a giant ball of political bummfuckery but what about the galaxy beyond ?

How are you compromising on all the other species for example: Daleks, Time Lords, Vulcan, Klingons, Goa'uld and Ancients. Were you to include all of them the situation would get very confusing real fast.

So what are you leaving out ?
Lord Hierarch
Redshirt
Posts: 21
Joined: 2010-12-29 03:37pm

Re: Stargate: Crossgate

Post by Lord Hierarch »

Vares wrote:Okay, with all the crossovers Earth is a giant ball of political bummfuckery but what about the galaxy beyond ?

How are you compromising on all the other species for example: Daleks, Time Lords, Vulcan, Klingons, Goa'uld and Ancients. Were you to include all of them the situation would get very confusing real fast.

So what are you leaving out ?
For the moment the story will focus on Earth. When the events of the Stargate Movie occurs, then we'll move into the galaxy beyond. However I am leaving out Doctor Who - all I'm really borrowing is Torchwood. Some DW races might appear though.
Lord Hierarch
Redshirt
Posts: 21
Joined: 2010-12-29 03:37pm

Re: Stargate: Crossgate

Post by Lord Hierarch »

It also just came to me I left a few parts out:
.
.
.

811 East 68th Street, New York City
Year: 1992


The faint blue fog completely filled the empty vault-sized chamber. Seconds later, a blonde-haired young woman emerged from the mist, a dazed and faraway look in her eyes, followed by a somewhat younger man whose sharp brown eyes scanned the room with interest. “Home sweet home,” Ms. Roberta Lincoln said to her guest.

“A quaint abode,” the man said disinterest in his voice.

“It is, isn’t it?”

She let out a sigh of relief as she stepped out of the vault and into the familiar office beyond. The office hadn’t been used in a while, that much was obvious from the layer of dust which disappointed her slightly although she couldn’t think of a reason it should. Overhead lights flickered on erratically before settling, revealing a tidy office with sparse decorations. Despite the cold and bland appearance, the place felt more like a second home to her. Yes, it did feel good to be back.

“Where is your companion?”

“Isis? She’s probably-”

Isis?” Roberta jumped at the sudden change in her companion’s voice. It became sharper, louder, possessing an eerie echo-like quality. He grabbed her arms, squeezing them tightly, holding on despite her protests and efforts to break free from his grip. She didn’t understand why he was acting like this. The great Setan was a kind and peaceful man who rejected the use of force. Why the sudden change, she wondered. It was completely out of his nature! “She is your companion!”

She stumbled over her words and, as if realizing what he was doing, he let go of her and took a step back, his tailcoat sweeping over the ground. He grimaced at the dust that his tailcoat had thrown up into the air. “I was out of line,” he apologized. “I had... a sister named Isis who betrayed me a long time ago to my brother.”

“When?”

His faced darkened and an ugly scowled graced his lips. “Many, many years ago,” he muttered. She gave him a confused look but nodded, the answer being what she needed. As soon as she turned her back the cult leader raised an eyebrow in curiosity as well as suspicion. Never did his followers question him once introduced to the bliss that he offered. In exchange for taking away their fears and insecurities he only demanded their utter obedience. This one was strong willed though, strong enough to resist his bliss if only for a short while at any rate.

Interesting.

Many years ago, he would have killed someone like her but recent events had forced him to adapt to the changing world. He was no fool, he knew about how there were others powers scourging the world for technologies that his people had left behind. As knowledgeable as he was he could not travel to one continent to another so easily, people like him were always under watch. Recently he had been unable to move but now, Ms. Lincoln offered him instruments of interest, technologies that would allow him to hide his presence and increase his already substantial following.

“Who is this Isis, then?”

“My cat. Well not really my cat, it’s Seven’s cat. She’s-”

“Where is this Beta-Five?” He interrupted, impatient. At first glance this cramped and Spartan abode looked like as if it hadn’t been used in years however he could not afford to waste time. He had lost count how many times he had been forced to flee from the Tau’ri’s law enforcement because he had grown complacent and lowered his guard. He could not afford that here, not yet anyway. “Show me where it is.”

Obediently with a certain dream-like quality in her movements, she walked over to a large bookcase that occupied an entire wall. ‘Crude yet effective,’ he thought as a somewhat silly but obviously advanced-looking computer emerged from behind the bookcase. He traced his gloved fingers over the black screen, inspecting the protruding control panel.

Despite her faith in the great and Glorious Leader, she had doubts that he could work the alien computer. She frowned as a smile graced his lips, something at the back of her head screaming at her to do something, to say something, to stop him. But why would she want to stop the work of the Great Leader, of her savior? Madness! “Computer,” he commanded imperiously. “Assemble all data concerning the status and whereabouts of the genetically engineered children from the Chrysalis Project.”

Multicolored strips of light blinked above the control shelf. “Voice pattern unknown,” the Beta 5 announced in its grating familiar snooty voice. “Please identify.”

“Accursed machine,” he scowled. “Activate the machine!”

Before she could do anything, the door to the office came open with a bang. A single powerful kick was enough to knock the wooden door, which had been left locked for many months if not years, right off its hinges. Caught by surprise, Setan barely had enough time to cover his face from any rouge wooden shards when a pair of men in black suits barged in. “Section 12,” a silver haired man bellowed, “Hands where I can see-Ms. Lincoln?”
Lord Hierarch
Redshirt
Posts: 21
Joined: 2010-12-29 03:37pm

Re: Stargate: Crossgate

Post by Lord Hierarch »

“Seven?”

“You know them?”

“I know her,” the man named Seven admitted before the two returned their focus to the man with Ms. Lincoln. “Don’t mo-”Unfortunately for the two; their short banter had been a second too long.

“Heathens,” Setan snarled as he raised his hand, revealing the golden Kara Kesh wrapped around his hand. The ruby in the center glowed and the two elder men barely had time to move before an invisible wave shot their way, splintering the wooden panels behind the two. The loyal Ms. Lincoln stepped in front of him as if thinking that she could protect him. He pushed her to the side and fired another wave, this time throwing the other man back. The man slammed against the wall with a thud, his weapon flying out of his head.

“What did you do?” Roberta screamed.

“Self-defense,” he answered calmly as he turned towards the other who had already pointed his weapon at him. “Do you honestly think that a weapon like that could hurt a God?” Seven narrowed his eyes, a glint of recognition appearing in his eyes. Despite his bravado Setan knew that as primitive as that pistol was, it was just as dangerous as a staff weapon. He had long ago come to realization that without his armies and technologies, he was just as vulnerable as any other Tau’ri.

The ever loyal Ms. Lincoln stepped in front of him as if thinking that she could protect him. Despite her age she was quite beautiful, more so than the usual followers he attracted. A few hours in his sarcophagus and she would be the image of perfection, a suitable host for a Goa’uld queen. Yes... suitable to bear his children, in fact.

A smirk graced his lips and he lowered his Kara Kesh.

“Don’t shoot!” She shouted.

“Get out of the way Ms. Lincoln,” the silver haired man said, steadying his crude projectile weapon.

“Please, don’t hurt him!” She pleaded. She turned towards the silver haired man, the one called ‘Seven’, with a pitiful look on her face. He remembered Ms. Lincoln talking about someone named Seven before, but he couldn’t remember what she had said. He had not perused that line of questioning after he had heard about the Beta 5 Computer. “You don’t understand Seven, you can’t hurt him! He’s the Great Leader!”

He scowled. He remembered now what she had said about this man, this Supervisor 194. “Gary Seven,” he said slowly, his eyes taking in the man who looked to be in his 50’s. “Yes, yes... Ms. Lincoln held a great deal of admiration for you.”

“What did you do to her?” Seven snapped.

“I only introduced her to the Bliss that I offered.”

“Drugs,” Mr. Seven retorted.

“No, not drugs,” Roberta corrected, “He opened my eyes. He showed me-”

“Change her back or I will shoot,” Seven warned. A bluff, Setan knew since Ms. Lincoln was using her body to protect him. Despite that, he knew how cruel the Tau’ri could be to each other. They were terrified by the acts of the man named Hitler; however he considered his methods quaint. A System Lord committed genocide on a galactic scale. If Seven considered it to be worth it, no doubt he would fire.

Based on the way his hand was shaking, he wouldn’t.

“I would lower your weapon, Mr. Seven,” he ordered.

Seven did not.

“Do you see how close-minded your companion is,” he said gently to the protective woman. “He lacks the bliss that I offer, the warmth and security than I give-”

“Quiet or I will shoot.”

“You are quite unlike the Gary Seven Ms. Lincoln told me about. She seemed to think of you as a man who was always calm, collected and always one step ahead of your enemies. I find it hard to believe you are the same man she described to me.”

“People change.”

Setan smiled. Then his eyes glowed.

Seven’s eyes widened as he realized what he was going up against. There was a reason that the AEGIS had phased cloaked their world despite its high level of technology. There were few civilizations near AEGIS that could do any sort of harm. The race that Setan, Seven now realized, was one of the raced that could destroy them. “You’re-”

Your God!” Setan snarled as pushed Ms. Lincoln to the side and raised his Kara Kesh.

“Computer, Override all further commands! Maximum security!” At the very least, Seven thought before he was thrown back against the wall, he had stopped the Goa’uld from using the knowledge in the Beta 5. If he remembered right, the Goa'uld weren't skilled when it came to using technologies they weren't familiar with. Still, how did the Goa’uld get on the planet?

Then he blacked out.

Aghast at the sight of her old friend, Roberta stammered, frozen to the spot. He had to move, the commotion would certainly attract people. He did not want to spend more time here than he needed to. He had not lived through the darkest moments of Tau’ri history to be captured in such a place like this. “Put in your code,” he hissed.

“I-I can’t. H-H-He locked i-it,” she stammered.

No, he had not come this far to be stopped by a machine and a Tau’ri. The determined Cult Leader refused to give. With intense concentration focused on the Beta 5’s control panel he began operating the instrument. He was slow at first, not used to using the controls, then with increasing speed and confidence, his fingers dancing over the controls. In response the blinking lights on top started flashing brighter and brighter, more erratic with each second. “Error! Error!” The computer chirped in a hysterical tone. Roberta shivered at the almost human quality the computer was screaming with. “Halt! Cease operations immediately! Halt! Cease! Stop! Halt! Cease! Stop! Security protocols-Error! Error! Error...”

Amazing,’ Roberta thought, shivers going down her spine. She had never seen someone operate Beta 5 like this.

A smirk appeared on Setan’s face as files appeared before him, all of the data that Gary Seven and Roberta Lincoln had collected years ago on the Chrysalis Project and the current location of the genetically engineered super children that had been born there. Collecting all of the data into a CD, Setan held the flat disk as if it was something to be worshipped.

My future hosts,’ Setan thought gleefully.

He placed his Kara Kesh against the lobotomized computer, closing his eyes as energy coursed through the ribbon device. Electrical bolts rippled outwards from his palm, coursing through the advanced computer. The flashing lights grew brighter before exploding, showering him with tiny glass shards. Billowing smoke emanated from the console until every light on the futuristic-looking computer went dark.

Something in Ms. Lincoln screamed. It was as if she had seen an old friend just die... no, murdered. But she should she feel that why, her new persona reasoned, after all it was just a computer.

Setan slid the disk into a pocket and the two walked over to the teleporter, leaving the two unconscious men behind. Yes, the cult leader thought as Ms. Lincoln manipulated the controls to take them back to his estate outside of Seattle, it was good to be God.
User avatar
Eternal_Freedom
Castellan
Posts: 10361
Joined: 2010-03-09 02:16pm
Location: CIC, Battlestar Temeraire

Re: Stargate: Crossgate

Post by Eternal_Freedom »

Sweet - do we get to see a face-off between Khan and O'Neill? that would just be epic.

And I liked the rationalising of Flint as an Ancient, very clever combination of the two universes.
Baltar: "I don't want to miss a moment of the last Battlestar's destruction!"
Centurion: "Sir, I really think you should look at the other Battlestar."
Baltar: "What are you babbling about other...it's impossible!"
Centurion: "No. It is a Battlestar."

Corrax Entry 7:17: So you walk eternally through the shadow realms, standing against evil where all others falter. May your thirst for retribution never quench, may the blood on your sword never dry, and may we never need you again.
Lord Hierarch
Redshirt
Posts: 21
Joined: 2010-12-29 03:37pm

Re: Stargate: Crossgate

Post by Lord Hierarch »

Eternal_Freedom wrote:Sweet - do we get to see a face-off between Khan and O'Neill? that would just be epic.

And I liked the rationalising of Flint as an Ancient, very clever combination of the two universes.
Nah, sorry. Khan would kill O'Neill easily - he is a superman after all.
User avatar
Eternal_Freedom
Castellan
Posts: 10361
Joined: 2010-03-09 02:16pm
Location: CIC, Battlestar Temeraire

Re: Stargate: Crossgate

Post by Eternal_Freedom »

I dunno, O'Neill would probably snap off a witty remark and then just shoot Khan. So unless Khan's rather impressive chest is also bulletproof, it might be a fairer fight
Baltar: "I don't want to miss a moment of the last Battlestar's destruction!"
Centurion: "Sir, I really think you should look at the other Battlestar."
Baltar: "What are you babbling about other...it's impossible!"
Centurion: "No. It is a Battlestar."

Corrax Entry 7:17: So you walk eternally through the shadow realms, standing against evil where all others falter. May your thirst for retribution never quench, may the blood on your sword never dry, and may we never need you again.
Lord Hierarch
Redshirt
Posts: 21
Joined: 2010-12-29 03:37pm

Re: Stargate: Crossgate

Post by Lord Hierarch »

Is is 1993.... in one more year, Charlie is going be killed and O'Neill will go to the Stargate and then retirement. He's probably back from the Middle East now.

Which reminds me....



The Eugenics War was a type of war the like of which humanity had never fought before. Unlike the world wars of the past, the Eugenics War was a shadowy conflict, fought behind the scenes of present events, against elusive enemies whose origins were as mysterious and convoluted as the histories of the people who fought them.

It was a war that was fought in the shadows, fought under the guise of civil wars and rebellions across the world. It was a war that the world had seen only two times, a World War yet it was unlike any of the previous World Wars that man had fought before. When the war started in 1992 it was one of cloaks and daggers, the lines between friend and foe blurred as the Great Khanate and Majestic 12 clashed across the world. The might of Khan and that of his superhuman brethren proved to be a match as the Great Khanate marched outward, subverting governments as Khan’s followers gained high political officers in Asia, Africa and the Middle East.

When 1993 came to be the world was occupied by the separation of Czechoslovakia, by the first legal hanging in the United States since 1965, by the announcement that Bill Wyman was leaving the Rolling Stones and that Michael Jordon had scored his 20,000 career point. The minds of the people of the world were occupied by thoughts on mundane topics and worried on fights between the old Soviet bloc and the god-loving democratic nations. Yet while all of this was going on a war of great importance and consequences was being fought across the world.

The shadowy strength of several dozen countries was arrayed against Majestic-12 and despite the use of alien technology to help them Khan had embraced the gifts that he had stolen from Torchwood India and used its advanced and utterly inhuman technology to good use against his enemies. The coming end of 1993 seemed to foreshadow the collapse of Majestic-12 as an organization and the unchallenged supremacy of the Great Khanate. Humanity, it seemed, had a bleak future.

The return of Torchwood marked a turning point in the war as it brought much needed manpower, intelligence networks and alien weaponry against that of Khan Noonien Singh. Various agencies on both sides from the FBI/CIA to M15 and even GRU and the SVR slowly became aware of what was going on beneath the surface of all of the disasters and conflicts that were leaving its mark on the end of the 20th Century and began to partake in the war. While Khan had devastated one foe after three years of war his ferocity and tenacity had brought a dozen more Intelligence Agencies from a dozen countries against him. No longer were the countries of the world willing to watch as Khan took over government after government – it was time for them to take a stand against another Hitler.




MJ-12 HQ, New York City
Year: 1994


“The Russians are active again.”

“What’d you expect? Khan is knocking at their front door and the Russians aren’t liable to let anyone stroll into their country and bring back a dictatorship,” O’Neill remarked as a wry smile graced Yvonne’s thin lips. “I don’t think Khan realized what he’s brought down on himself yet or else he wouldn’t be continuing supporting the Russian gangs. Its like-”

“Japan underestimating your country during the Second World War?”

O’Neill snorted.

“You took the words out of my mouth.”

The director of Torchwood rolled her eyes but nodded in agreement. While Russia had fallen hard since the end of the Second World War (and fallen even harder since the collapse of the Soviet Union although neither was complaining,) Russia was a fierce country… albeit a tamed one. But the current political climate in Russia left Russia ripe for conquest by Khan and while Napoleon and Hitler had failed to conquer the vast country, the two knew Khan had the ability to do so.

Unlike his predecessors he didn’t have the manpower to send thousands of men across the Russian border supported by hundreds of tanks and cars, the ground battered and worn by fighters and bombers. He didn’t have the need to craft and protect an extended logistic line to send fuel to his vehicles or food for his soldiers.

No, all Khan (the augmented bastard) had to do was replace high-ranking people in the Russian government until the offices of the Russian President and Prime Minister became nothing more than puppets for Khan. Subterfuge and assassination – that was the type of war that was characterizing the Eugenics Wars. Even the name had changed from ‘War’ to ‘Wars’ as the blurred and nonexistent frontline merged with those of other conflicts. There was no part of the world (except for Antarctica and even then…) that was not left untouched by the Eugenics Wars.

Walking around the holographic table (courtesy of Torchwood,) that had been installed several days ago, O’Neil could see the wars unfold before him. It bothered him that Torchwood had this type of technology, technology that Majestic-12 had given up trying to create. He had to respect Torchwood for making due with what they had – they had a fraction of the resources and personal MJ-12 had but they made results. “What about Egypt?” O’Neil asked, tapping the white-blue hologram. “I remember reading that Khan was taking an interest there.”

“It’s no surprise. A number of alien artifacts we’ve recovered came from Egypt and the computers at Torchwood-5 would say that. Khan’s probably looking for more alien technology.” Yvonne paused. “Do you think he knows its alien? He’s had enough time to find out.”

“Nah, don’t worry,” said an unflustered O’Neil. “I have someone on the inside keeping an eye on Khan. Do you remember all that fluster about the hole in Ozone layer above Antarctica in ‘92?”

“Yes. Why?”

“That was Khan’s doing. He had a satellite in orbit; he called it ‘Morning Star’ that was designed to destroy the Ozone layer. Khan used it to jumpstart his little empire, he scared a lot of people. Our insider gave us its location and we took it out when the Colombia was on its Spacelab mission.”

“If you have someone on the inside then why not kill Khan when he’s asleep?”

“It’s not that easy.”

His counterpart sighed. “I know.”

“We’ve had more success taking out his cronies though. We’ve been trying to instigate uprisings and riots to cover up our actions. Khan is doing some of the work for us, though.” He adopted a sly look. “Satellite images on his palace shows that the city is falling into disrepair. He must be focusing a lot of his attention on us and that’s costing him the respect of the people that had elected him to power. If things continue on like this then Khan might have to deal with his own people.”

“You have people helping there?”

“No – it’s too much of a risk for us to take. What about you?”

“The same issue,” she admitted.

There was an awkward silence as the Earth rotated between them, its surface a patchwork of governments and war zones. If things went the way went the way they were supposed to be, he thought, and then he’d be back in Minnesota with Sara... and Charlie. He felt apprehension for what he was going to go through (having gone through the same experience in another life) but he’d learned that the need of the many outweighed the need for the few. After that he would partake in a top secret project going on beneath Creek Mountain. One month... not for the first time, O’Neil was feeling his age. “Do you think there really is an Institute 22, Mr. O’Neil?”

“Hm?”

“Institute 22 – do you think it exists?”

“From what you’ve told me, Stalin whisked away a lot of alien technology Hitler had been hoarding. He probably started his own organization to keep up with you. There was also that incident with the Russians arming a nuclear missile in the middle of nowhere and the rumors of UFO’s flying above it. But with the fall of the Soviet Union, if it did exist, I doubt it’s survived the transition to a democracy.”
Lord Hierarch
Redshirt
Posts: 21
Joined: 2010-12-29 03:37pm

Re: Stargate: Crossgate

Post by Lord Hierarch »

French Polynesia, South Pacific
Year: 1994


The Varyag moved through the water through the water with pride, the water parting as it crashed harmlessly against its bow. The second and last of its kind, the Varyag was also a ship that didn’t exist. Officially, construction of the ship had ceased in 1992 and it was given to Ukraine after the Soviet Union broke up (no small part due to Gorbachev.) Under supposed Ukrainian hands it was then left unfinished, unmaintained and stripped of its valuables. It was thus left as rotting hulk of what was meant to one of the greatest vessels to carry the Russian flag against their Imperialist rivals.

But then again history was never set in stone nor was the truth readily available to the public. After all, the people were unaware of the world war that was going on in Southeast Asia and the Middle East, of the Great Khanate that was encroaching on the sovereignty of millions across the globe. No, they were blissfully unaware of the men and women giving their lives to keep the war out of sight, knowing full well that their families would never know the real reason they would die.

But Russia knew.

The first taste of this type of war had been during the last few years of the last World War, when Stalin had created their preceding organization in order to study Hitler’s Wunderwawffen’s that were being thrown at them. Hitler’s own alien agency had been ransacked and bombed after Berlin had fallen into Soviet hands and the last remnants of Hitler’s motley deranged followers (and the madman himself) were been killed in 1948. In that short war, in the lessons and technology taken from there, the foundations of Institute 22 had been laid. They watched as Khan, the result of India’s tampering with the genetic code of man, rose up against his makers and brought the great country to its knees. They watched as country after country caved in and did nothing as his Empire grew by leaps and bounds.

Why get in involved in a conflict that didn’t involve, they reasoned as the Americans threw themselves against Khan. So long as Khan didn’t bother them they wouldn’t do anything to Khan. So long as Khan and the Americans fought it would only serve to strengthen the Institute’s position. Poor little Torchwood, they mocked, which was once at the forefront of alien understanding, had stepped to the sidelines after the quiet and undignified end of the British Empire. They snickered from the shadows - one Imperialist power down as the dialect had foretold.

They had always known about Torchwood since their inception since Stalin’s spies had uncovered the workings of the Imperialist enemy turned ally. They had countered Torchwood at every opportunity, using human nature to shut them out of their countries. The “Cold War” had started between Britain and Russia (although Britain never knew it.) When they learned about the Americans they only saw another opportunity to cheat their class foes out of the technology left behind by aliens.

They did so much...

And they could do so much more.

But what were they now. They were on their death bed, the last remnant of one of Stalin’s most secretive agencies. They used to be above the KGB and above the workings of the old Soviet Union, capable of eliminating their enemies and rivals.

Then they blundered in Afghanistan and the shroud of their secrecy had threatened to unravel. Now they were a skeleton force with barely a fraction of the manpower they once had that scoured the vast motherland of Russia and the world, the once powerful Institute 22 reduced to scavenging and finishing what their lesser had worked on.

In reality, the Varyag was never given over to the Ukrainian government. Instead the ship was moved to a shipyard that wasn’t on any official records, a shipyard that wasn’t government owned. In complete secrecy working with what little resources they remained after all the fall of the glorious (and admitting failed) Bolshevik state, the loyal and hard-working men of Institute 22 slaved to finish the Aircraft Cruiser. In two years they finished the great ship, a ship that was far more advanced than anything the world had. So it was a shame, Arkady Reykov thought while he unbuttoned his dark blue overcoat that the world would never know what Russia had wrought.

He was proud of the Admiral Kuznetsov-class carrier. She was a grand ship, fully armed and represented the last bastion of Russia’s solidarity against the Imperialist powers who dared think they had won the war against the peace-loving people of Russia.

That attitude had cooled down giving way to more ‘open’ leaders (a sign of the changing times) but it was still prevalent among their ranks. There was another reason why Reykov was proud of the ship, of his ship. She carried a weapons that their enemies could only dream of, weapons that showed what Institute 22 could accomplish even now. They were things that not even the British or Americans had.

Of that they were all certain.

But things had changed and Reykov could only feel apprehension as a holographic map of the Moruroa Island appeared in the center of the bridge. Khan had dared strike the old Soviet Union and was trying to do what Napoleon and Hitler had failed to do. But either he didn’t know about Institute 22 or he didn’t care and that was his mistake. Unlike their counterparts, they would not fire any warning shots.
Post Reply