I've seen a lot of Stargate fics set in the future. Most (and by most I mean about 99%) go one of two ways. The first is a future that, despite being set even decades in the future, is exactly the same- same people around, same tech, maybe a few new toys and a new ship or two, but no disclosure and no radical changes. That's a very depressing future, albeit an unintentional one. The other is a utopia or attempt at a utopia that would actually suck, would never work, or both.
This is somewhere in between. It's a dystopia of sorts. And though it may seem that one side is in the right and the other in the wrong, it's much more complex than that.
Chapter 1: Reveal
In 2012, the international organization heading the Stargate Program finally revealed the Stargate to the world. Before this point, the program was kept secret, as it was believed that the existence of aliens and space travel would cause widespread panic on Earth. However, such a truth could not be kept a secret forever. The International Oversight Advisory, predecessor organization to the Stargate Alliance, spent years preparing for the grand reveal.
In Great Britain, the United States, China, Japan, and many parts of Europe, martial law was temporarily instituted to prevent riots and acts of terrorism. Government advisers worked with the press to ensure that the populace learned of the truth. Radical voices, unable to accept the new reality, were imprisoned and prevented from causing mass hysteria. This success is attributed to an increase of police powers and surveillance. Although some protested the actions as excessively radical, they resulted in a smooth, bloodless transition. Indeed, in Russia, Sweden, and Canada where martial law was not instituted, thousands died from protests, riots, and other acts of terrorism.
Although most of the civilized world cooperated in their efforts to build a better future, some nations refused to join the great alliance. China, a longtime rival of the United States in the International Oversight Advisory, accused the United States of tyranny and imperialism, despite their own well-known record. The unexpected death of the Russian President threw the country into political turmoil, and resulted in a proud, overly ambitious Russia that refused to see the benefits of an international alliance. Like China, Russia shares a long and unpleasant history with the United States (and, indeed, many other nations of the Stargate Alliance) and suffers numerous internal problems.
At first, there were several nations hesitant to join the Stargate Alliance. Canada was taken over by a radical Prime Minister who installed a policy of isolationism from the United States and even cooperated with the Russians, providing them with dangerous technology in direct violation of international treaties. In 2014, combined American forces invaded the northern nation, liberating it from its tyrannical leader. Two years later, allied forces moved into United Scandinavia, removing the corrupt Persson Regime from power and destroying terrorist organizations such as the World Liberation Army, People's Front, al Qaida, Free Constitutionalists, the NRA and the EFF.
Meanwhile, the Stargate Alliance pushed forward into the galaxy, building up a stellar navy and ground forces to protect its rapidly growing colonies. This wave of expansion was punctuated with rapid advancements in technology on Earth- from industry to power generation to medicine. At the same time, the East- loosely defined as Russia, China, and India- continued to build archaic industry and pollute the Earth with carbon-laden smoke and spent fission fuel.
With the next decade rapidly approaching, the world remains once again divided into the East and the West. Crude, oppressive dictatorships oppose advanced nations pushing into the galaxy. Yet despite all that has been accomplished, some still refuse to reap the rewards.
Moscow, Russia
"Yob tvoyu maht!" Minister of Space and Emerging Technology Gennady Ivanovich Chekov shouted, tossing the stapled stack of paper onto his thick, messy mahogany desk. "To use an American expression, what load of shit."
"I agree wholeheartedly," the man sitting across the desk from him agreed. He was Major General Boris Vasilyev, current head of the State Intelligence Directorate- better known by its Western acronym GRU- not to be confused with its predecessor organization. He was a small, rotund man with a greying beard and rapidly receding hairline. "They accuse us of lies and propaganda, and yet this is what they teach in their schools!"
Chekov nodded his agreement, then asked, "How is the operation going?"
"To which one are you referring to?" Vasilyev asked, giving nothing away.
"You know which one," Chekov replied. He assured him, "Do not worry. We are free from surveillance."
Vasilyev shrugged. "It is going as well as one would expect. We have acquired the formulas- I do not know precisely how, but I understand it involved shell corporations in the West. We have produced the equipment- really, we already had it. Only the most difficult part remains."
"Getting it there," Chekov finished. "And getting them to agree to our terms."
"I am not worried about the latter," the head of intelligence replied. "They do not want to be dependent on America- it is in fact the Americans forcing this dependence. Our offer would seem a gift from the gods, if you excuse my use of the term."
He paused. "No, the difficulty lies in bringing it to them, and without the Americans knowing what we are doing. But, all things considered, it it not so difficult."
"If things go well, then these days of hardship will be over. If-"
"Minister Chekov?" the secretary called from outside the office, her voice carried over a small, tinny speaker. "Minister Chekov?"
"Can this wait, Irena?" Chekov shouted, keying the intercom system with a worn button under his desk.
"No, Minister, it is urgent," she replied curtly.
"Then what is it?"
"There is a visitor from the Kremlin," Irena explained. "He says that it is urgent and must be delivered in person."
"I will see you tomorrow, Boris Nikolayevich," the Minister dismissed, standing and opening the door for his guest. He gestured for the Kremlin man, a tall, lithe man with shaved head and immaculate uniform, to enter his office.
"What is it?" he asked with feigned disinterest. He noticed that the man was struggling to keep his calm, emotionless demeanour. That was not a good sign.
"The- the President," the man- barely more than a boy- replied, hands beginning to shake. "The President was found dead in his office just an hour ago. It appears... it appears he has shot himself."
Chekov removed a bottle of vodka- premium Stolichnaya Elit- from his desk, along with two glasses. He poured a shot into each glass before handing one to the other man and shooting back the other himself. "I assume the Prime Minister knows about this?"
The boy nervously drank his vodka. "That is the problem, Minister. As soon as he was told, the Prime Minister resigned. He left a note stating his successor."
"And that leaves who as his successor?"
He was silent. "No."
Silver Creek, United States of America
"Uncle Jack!" a familiar voice called, following several raps on the wooden door. Jack grumbled, putting down his beer and shutting off the television. He ran a hand over his week-old stubble before forcing himself to stand. "Uncle Jack!"
"I'm coming, Cassie!" he shouted at the door, stumbling over and unlatching the deadbolt, second deadbolt, slide lock and padlock. He opened the door just long enough to let the tall blonde in before slamming it shut and latching the bolts again.
"Can I get you something?" he asked, motioning her to the cleanest spot on his couch.
"No, thank you," she replied, taking the seat. Jack shrugged and got a beer for himself before sitting down beside her.
"So, I heard you got promoted," Jack began, struggling to find a topic for casual conversation. "What's it, Major now? Congratulations."
"Yeah, Major, and thank you," Cassie replied. "Still have the same job, though. Heading up a study on the interaction between technological and social development."
"Sounds boring," he commented, taking a swig of beer.
She shook her head. "No, it's actually quite exciting. I get to see everything they're working on, even play with some of it. Powered armour, personal shields, cloaking devices, handheld railguns, and that's just the little stuff."
"Carter would like that stuff," Jack muttered. "Speaking of Carter, does she know?"
"No," Cassie replied. "I haven't been able to contact her, actually. She's busy, in deep, maybe as deep as SecDef Landry."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Landry's SecDef now?"
She nodded. "Yeah, he moved up from National Security Advisor last week. It'll be in the headlines shortly."
"What about Daniel? Heard anything from him?"
"No, sorry. Gitmo's locked up tight." She squeezed her eyes shut. "God, I don't even want to know what they're doing to him there. From what I've heard, they don't use conventional torture anymore. Don't need to. A virtual reality pod is all you need now."
"Christ," Jack muttered. "And Teal'c?"
"Still ambassador. I think he's on Chulak at the moment, though."
"Cameron Mitchell? Vala Mal Doran?"
"Flying American Airlines and last seen in a Tel'tak making a hard burn for the Verge."
"What about the Pegasus crew?" Jack asked.
"Also flying American Airlines, getting rich off patent lawsuits, gone back to her people, and don't know." She paused. "So, how'd you get this?"
Another raise of the eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"A cabin in the middle of nowhere, with bulletproof glass windows, ten deadbolts and so many jammers that we can't pick up anything from inside even with NSA's ARCNet."
Jack shrugged. "I'm a war hero. When I started talking smack, they couldn't just throw me in prison like they did to Daniel. So they said I had severe PTSD- which I actually might have, but it's not like they give a damn- and told everyone I needed my space and time to cope. Gone bananas in the head. They don't have to deal with me and I don't have to deal with them. It's actually working pretty well."
He paused before stating, "But you already know about all that."
"And you already knew about SG-1," Cassie retorted.
Jack nodded. "So, how's it going?"
"Nick Adams is still broadcasting from Russia," Cassie replied. "I don't know if he knows most of us can't hear him, or if he particularly cares. The East's up to something- but when are they not up to something? And I'm getting as much information as I can."
"So, basically, you guys are going nowhere."
She sighed. "Yeah, pretty much. We could probably take down ARCNet now, but they'd just throw up another one. We might be able to off the President, but the VeePee is just as bad, if not worse. We need a full-on revolution, and that just isn't happening."
Jack shook his head. "Damn. I guess people would rather just live in their safe little police-state world, pretending that everything's okay."
"We have the potential to be so much more. Yet we aren't." Cassie checked her watch. "I should get going, now. I need to be back in Washington by tomorrow."
As she stood up to leave, Jack asked, "Why?"
She stopped. "Why what?"
"Why would you do it? You weren't born in this country- hell, you weren't born on this planet!"
"The opportunities I have, the things I can do here... on Hanka, even if Niirti hadn't committed her little act of genocide, I wouldn't have been able to dream about," Cassie replied.
"But why join the Patriots?"
"That's a story for another day, Uncle Jack." She stepped out the door. "See you soon."