The year 1948 dawned with some small celebration in the SGC, the two hundred or so people on the base crowded into the Gate room and sung the national anthem while General Abramovich conducted them from the raised platform of the Stargate. Then he opened a bottle of champagne sent there by Comrade Stalin himself to celebrate the efforts of the SGC personnel.

However, as some planet's day and night cycles were not , matched to Earth's, teams often had to go out during the night.

As such when the singing and drinking was done the crowd dispersed, and Colonel Durov gave the signal for the Gate to be dialled. As the ring spun around he stepped back to allow the latest generation of robotic probe through the gate.

The wormhole bloomed out and Dr. Diakonoff (being recorded as dead meant that he could no longer hold the title 'professor') consulted a high-resolution screen connected to the new Mobile All-terrain Laboratory Platform, or MALP. Along with its larger cousin the Field Remote Expeditionary Device, the MALP had originally been assigned as an unmanned drone to the Soviet space program for use on the moon, however Comrade Stalin had thought it better to be used at the SGC.

"What've we got Igor?" asked the Colonel, regarding the Gate.

"Marketplace, appears deserted," reeled off the Doctor as he consulted the machine's instruments, "architecture is… Roman or Greek, can't be certain at this distance."

"Do you speak either?" asked Durov. While communication using sign language was possible, it was much easier when one of the linguists actually knew the language. There had apparently been great strides in the understanding of ancient cultures because of the Stargate Program. Pity they'd never be able to tell anyone about it.

"I know enough of both to make ourselves understood." Replied Igor.

Durov nodded and hefted his weapon at the Gate, "Alright SG-1, cautious advance, safeties on."

They stepped through the wormhole, the now familiar flashes of light bathing them for a few seconds until they regained footing on the alien world.

At first the scientific community had been unsure of the best method of entering the Gate, some advocated running at top speed, others edging along the floor, it was only when someone pointed out the absurdity of these methods that they reached a consensus, why would the alien Gate-builders design such a cumbersome transport system?

In the end it was recommended that a simple step through would be sufficient in most cases, and that became protocol.

"Roman." Said Igor after glancing around, "Definitely Roman."

"How can you tell?" asked Durov. If he remembered his schooling properly this marketplace would be the 'forum' popular in Roman towns.

"Well… The massive Coliseum behind you for a start."

Durov turned. "Well." He breathed, "this is new."

Behind them stood a city, busy streets filled with multitudes of people of every hue and colour, noble columns tall over the streets supporting flying buttresses and arches. Square monoliths of marble and granite.

And in the distance, lesser structures cowering in its shadow they beheld the Coliseum, a thousand arches in a circle, a thousand colourful pennants flying overhead.

"So… Nova Roma do you think? For a name." asked Igor.

"Well it certainly fits." Replied Durov, he knew enough Latin for that at least.

"Dial the Gate sir?" asked Dmitri, looking round suspiciously.

"If you can find the DHD." Durov said, he didn't see it himself, now, while that could potentially mean they wouldn't be able to get back home, it wasn't a great issue, they had in fact already established protocol for such a situation, the SGC would check in in a hour, at which point the MALP could be used as a relay if they were far from the Gate to contact home. Afterwards engineers and technicians could come through and assemble a crude computer around the Gate that would allow them to get back. The Portable Dialling Computer was by no means a DHD, and could only dial the SGC once, but it still allowed them to get back.

"None in sight Comrade Colonel." Said Dimitri after a quick search.

"Hm." Huffed the Colonel, "Stick together, Igor's the only one who speaks Latin, let's go see what's going on."

They walked through the streets of Nova Roma, Colonel Durov remembering the history books he had read as a child, the details correct even down to the cohort of Urban Guard marching down the street.

Surprisingly, the four Russians attracted very little surprise from the people of the city. As outlandish as their uniforms may seem they were frequently greeted by passers-by on the street, and drew no more attention than any other person.

They passed bath houses, slave actions, one rather irate politician in a white and purple toga who according to Igor was complaining about sewage, and several more market places till they reached what appeared to be a highway, or at least one of the main roads. On the corner of the junction there appeared to be an eatery, one equipped with a spacious balcony, they ascended to the top and sat down for lunch.

"One of the thing I like about this job," said Ilya, taking out a sandwich, "Is that while half the time we're in battle, the other half is like being on holiday, except without the unpleasant plane ride to get there."

Durov smiled, the SGC was certainly one of the best jobs in the Soviet Army, with being something like a test pilot for aircraft ranking higher. Certainly there was the tedium of reports and the quarantine procedure, but that was offset by missions like this one.

Ilya was about to take another bite of his sandwich when he abruptly put it down and unclipped the scope from his sniper rifle. Holding it up and looking down the highway he turned to Dr. Diakonoff. "Doctor," he said, "What is the name for a creature as tall as a giraffe but as burly as a rhino?"

Igor scrambled for his binoculars, "Well that sounds like an Indricotherium, but they died out on Earth in the Oligocene epoch. Can't be one though, because it wouldn't be able to breathe this atmosphere."

The whole squad had their binoculars out by now and were looking at a strange parade of creatures. Durov estimated them at around five metres tall, and perhaps twice that in length, they were a dull grey like an elephant. On their backs several colourfully dressed Romans stood in howdahs secured by thick straps around the creatures.

"Interesting." Concluded Durov regarding the creature, "But of no immediate application to the USSR, pack up SG-1, we're going back to the Gate."

SG-1 left the café and marched back to the Stargate, they arrived back in the forum with six minutes to spare until Abramovich would check in. However there was a large crowd waiting for them there. Various citizens in togas and tunics stood around the MALP, trying to activate it, this was fine with Durov, given that you needed a key to turn it on and only his team had the key.

Toward the back he spied some soldiers, roughly a platoon, one sturdy looking Negro wearing a helmet with alternating transverse white and red plumes, the others a mixture of races wearing less ostentatious armour.

"Dmitri, clear them away from the Stargate, don't want any unnecessary casualties do we?" Durov told his subordinate.

"No Comrade Colonel." Replied the big man, and went to clear away the people from the MALP and danger zone where the vortex would materialise.

"Igor, come introduce us to the soldiers." Durov said loudly, calling the doctor over from where he was attempting to move some of the citizens.

"Vladimir, I don't even know if I'll be able to talk to them, they won't necessarily speak Latin."

"I thought you said they were Roman?"

"Well yes, but not everyone in the Roman Empire spoke Latin."

Durov paused; this could make things more difficult. "Very well." He allowed, "Standby Igor. Ilya!"

"Sir?"

"Time till base dials in?"

"Momentarily sir." The Slav called back.

Durov saw that Dmitri had cleared out all the Romans from the vortex's path just as it erupted. "Excellent." He grinned as the crowd recoiled in shock.

The radio on the MALP crackled into life. "SG-1, this is General Abramovich, what is your situation? Over."

Durov marched smartly over to the radio and picked up the receiver. "This is Colonel Durov," he said, "DHD is absent, repeat, DHD is absent."

"Received SG-1 will dispatch PDC to your location."

"Negative SGC, situation is potentially hostile."

"Do you require reinforcements Colonel?"

"Situation currently peaceful, SG-2 would be preferred."

"Received SG-1, situation cold, SG-2 are on their way."

Colonel Durov walked forward to stand in front of the soldiers. Their commander had ordered them into formation, swords out and shields protecting them.

Less than a minute later SG-2 thundered through the gate, weapons ready in their hands.

'Cold entry' indicated that reinforcements were needed for backup or intimidation purposes, it had been useful in a few situations with primitive cultures. On the other hand, 'hot entry' meant that a machine gun would be sprayed through the Gate at waist height.

"Right," said Durov pleasantly, "Igor, now introduce us."

Dr. Diakonoff wandered over to the soldiers and started speaking Latin to them. Then he turned back, "Um…what am I supposed to tell them apart from 'hello'?"

Durov sighed, Diakonoff, was to a degree, the classic intellectual, with little creative thinking. He was not a soldier, and refused to carry more than a pistol. Having said that, he had almost no moral compass, so at least Durov didn't have to worry about Igor being some die-hard liberal.

"Igor," Durov called, "just translate: I am Colonel Vladimir Durov of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, we are peaceful explorers from the planet Earth."

Centurion Decimus of the third Urban Cohort of Nova Roma frowned at the strangers. He kept his men in formation, should they prove hostile, but for the moment they appeared to just be standing around.

A man had come to the cohort's barracks an hour before with a strange tale of sorcery at the Forum Vulcanal, around the large stone ring that had been there for years. The IV Legio brought it back as a trophy from the Beastlands during the last war.

Decimus had been dispatched to the Forum to guard against any incursion of the Beastmen against Nova Roma; they were known to inhabit the sewers after all, along with slaves and criminals. However upon arriving they found two strange metal carts, one with a large arm and a glass eye, the other with many packs and cases strapped to it. Soon after these four strangers had appeared, though their dress was strange it was no more so that men from Oriens or Asiana. They had stranger weapons though, of a like Decimus had never seen, metal rods, and from the way they were pointed they functioned not unlike the Scorpio or the Polybolos. They were soldiers in any case; they had uniforms and walked as such.

It was possible they were mercenaries, but such were forbidden in the city by order of the Praefectus urbi, and would have never been allowed so armed past the Vigiles Urbani.

Suddenly from one of the metal carts a voice came, the language strange and like nothing Decimus had heard before. His suspicious of sorcery were immediately renewed, however evidently it did not disconcert the strangers, as their leader went to the box and spoke to it. Perhaps there was a tiny man inside, like the pygmies of the southern jungles. The leader said something else and the great stone ring began to glow.

Decimus' men muttered prayers and oaths, decrying the strangers, his subordinate Marcus Tarinius whispered into his ear that they should finish the strangers now, so that they might not complete their spell.

"No." whispered Decimus back to him, they would wait for now.

When seven points on the great ring glowed and a blue light filled the square, exploding out from the ring. Luckily none of the citizens in the centre of the Forum were engulfed, as one of the strangers had pushed them out of the way.

From the portal ran a handful more of strangers ran, wielding weapons the same as the first four.

"Spread out." Decimus ordered, "Surround them but do not attack." If he was right in thinking that their weapons were ranged ones being in a wider formation would be of use in the event of a fight.

One of the strangers approached Decimus, this one did not appear a soldier, just dressed as one, he did not wear the black piece of cloth the rest had on their heads.

"This man," the stranger spoke in halting Latin, "is Durov, soldier of the Soviet Republic, of the world of Terra, he greets you in friendship."

"I am Decimus, Centurion of Nova Roma of the world of Elysium." Replied Decimus in a voice that carried to 'Durov', ignoring the interpreter. No doubt he was a servant or slave to the soldiers. As for their claims of being from Terra, there were men in positions of greater authority than him who would decide if the men were mad, lying, or both.

"Sheathe weapons." He hissed to his men, "Fall in." and so they did, forming up with great precision brought on by hours of drilling.

The interpreter stepped forward again, having relayed Decimus' message back to his master and received a reply. "Durov wishes speech with your commander," he said, "his gratitude is yours should you convey us to whatever superiors you may have."

By this point in the conversation Decimus was relatively sure that these soldiers were not magicians, nor intended any hard to the people of Nova Roman, perhaps they possessed some powerful magic, as shown by the portal which brought them here, it was well known to be a artefact of the pagans in any case, but they simply did not look, or act like wizards. The interpreter barely spoke Latin well enough to treat with them.

"Very well." He told Durov, trusting the servant to rely his words back. Then he ordered his men to form two groups, one behind the strangers, one in front and marched off to the barracks.

"Report Igor." Durov ordered as they walked along.

Dr. Diakonoff had been wandering around talking to the Romans, Durov hoped he had something to show for it at least.

"Well I know when their descendants got kidnapped." Replied Igor happily.

"Well?"

"Some time in the reign of Emperor Trajan, one of the better Roman Emperors, ruled around 100AD, anyway, a Legion was thought to be destroyed in Parthia, from what I've learnt from these Romans that was a lie, the Legion was actually transported in 'a great flash of light' in their words, to here. They found no enemies and the Legion commander named himself Emperor and set about conquering the lands around them." Explained Igor.

Durov absorbed the information. "I see." He said eventually. The Colonel was unsure of whether the origins of these people was relevant to the current problem of aliens, they certainly didn't appear to have any advanced technology.

"Another interesting thing though." Continued Igor, "Apparently they got the Stargate from what they call the 'Beastmen'."

"Aliens?" asked Durov.

"Possibly, but I doubt the one's we're looking for, given these Beastmen fight with stone weapons for the most part."

"Get on with the story then." Ilya interrupted from behind them.

"Well," began Igor, his feathers ruffled, "According to popular legend, the transported Romans thanked Vulcan, the smith god for their situation, the land around them was fertile and there wasn't anyone to contest their claim to it. Then, a hundred years after a man from the sky in a chariot of fire, he told them he was Vulcan and his eyes glowed. Vulcan demanded tribute and slaves from the city, they refused and he smote the city and flew away in his chariot. Afterwards the servants of Vulcan, the Beastmen, who were thought to be from the Underworld, attacked Rome."

"Though evidently they were driven off." Pointed out Durov, as he only saw Romans around.

"Indeed, and sealed away behind a range of mountains to the north." Continued Igor, "Something like Hadrian's Wall in Scotland I think, problem being, every few years, Vulcan smites the walls with a great fire, allowing the hordes of Beastmen through.

"Why doesn't Vulcan smite the legions directly? Rather than the wall?" asked Ilya, "Or the city itself, this 'great fire' is probably artillery or missiles, and the 'chariot of fire' a plane."

"Maybe they're tramplers." Noted Durov.

"'Tramplers'?" asked Igor in a confused tone.

"Shtrafbat." Durov answered, "You know, penal battalions, sent in to clear obstacles, this 'Vulcan' is just trying to test the Roman's defences."

"That or he's run out of ammunition, or has limited range." Put in Ilya.

"Good points." Durov acknowledged. It did indeed seem odd that an advanced alien would use his weapons so sparingly. "Igor," he said, suddenly having a thought, "if there are these Beastmen all over the place how did they get the Stargate?"

Igor shrugged and jogged up the marching line to the head of the column; he quickly conferred with the leader and then came back. "He says one of the Emperor wanted to stop the invasions so he sent a military expedition into the Beastlands, they couldn't find the source of the Beastmen, but they found the Stargate in a sort of temple."

"Did you ask if they found a DHD there?"

"No."

"Well go do that then you idiot."

"So you this 'Vulcan' is one of the race of Aliens of whom Ra was a part Colonel?"

"Yes Comrade Minister."

Hearing of the potential of a cache of alien weaponry, Defence Minister Vasilevsky had come to the SGC in the Urals himself to take charge of the situation.

Vasilevsky leant back in his chair; hand on his chin, considering the situation. "I agree that the behaviour is unusual, it's the reasons for it we must be careful of considering." He postulated. "General Abramovich, what are your thoughts on this matter?"

"Minister," the General began, "I believe the alien known as Vulcan must have some pressing reason to remain on Elysium, rather than leaving the world. Perhaps he cannot leave, as whatever craft he has had been damaged, in which case he is attempting to regain control of the Stargate to use that."

"Did the Romans give any indication of when they acquired the Stargate Colonel?" Vasilevsky asked.

"It was unclear sir, there seemed to be a great deal of uncertainty about that period of history, owing to the Beastman occupation of the city, many of the records of that period were lost." Durov reported.

"That is most unfortunate." Vasilevsky said, "However, it does give us some interesting information to draw conclusions from."

"Sir?" asked Colonel Durov, he had thought up some theories but he wasn't the one who had won the Battle of Stalingrad, as such he would defer to Vasilevsky.

"Consider yourself as Vulcan the Alien," Vasilevsky began, "It would no doubt be far easier to kidnap workers from primitive cultures such as the Roman civilisation rather than make war on other aliens such as Ra for their resources. I believe that Vulcan took the Romans to seed a new world with life. These 'Beastmen' were perhaps a race he previously used, but given reports of their development they proved too stupid or intractable as subjects."

"But how then explain the century of absence?" asked Abramovich.

"Indeed General," said Vasilevsky, "The only conclusion I can think of for that would be that Vulcan was busy, I assume he was attacked by another alien or there was an internal power struggle in his domain, it may not even be the same Vulcan, perhaps one alien transplanted the Romans and a different alien came to demand tribute."

Durov nodded, that made sense, "And you believe this alien was trapped in the Beastlands sir?" he asked, "Perhaps his spacecraft was damaged in this power struggle and he needed slaves to help him fix it, the Beastmen lacking the dexterity required?"

Vasilevsky nodded, "An excellent hypothesis Colonel, unfortunately we cannot be sure of anything at this point."

Duvor restrained himself from smiling in pride, the Defence Minister complimenting his strategy!

Abramovich then leant forward, "I assume we are to lead an attack to recover this technology?" he asked Vasilevsky.

The Minister nodded, "And Vulcan if possible." He turned to Durov, "Colonel Durov, Comrade Stalin has authorised to open diplomatic negotiations with the Roman leadership, this includes an alliance or a deal of military assistance against the Beastmen, trade relations are also acceptable, up to and including modern weapons."

"What would be the end result of this deal Comrade Minister?" Durov asked, obviously they couldn't just give the Romans a lot of guns and say 'there you go'.

"Their de facto inclusion into the Soviet Union of course." Vasilevsky said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Not yet obviously, we shall establish friendly relations with them, they may remain in the manner of an autonomous region or vassal state, making them a full part would require disclosure of the SGC to the general public, which is unacceptable, however the long term strategy is to seed their civilisation with Soviet-friendly ideas. This will be the place of the political officers the SGC will eventually be assigned, for the moment though, conduct a campaign against these Beastmen… that will earn us the trust of the Romans."

Colonel Durov nodded seriously. This was a significant development. "Sir," he asked, recalling something Igor had asked him a few weeks ago, "Who is the enemy of this program? The Americans or the Aliens?"

Vasilevsky smiled, "Whoever attacks us first Colonel, whoever attacks us first…"