AN: A bit short but I wanted to get something written down. I've made the unusual step of linking a video on the crossposted forums, but obviously not on FF because its awkward like that. This isn't necessary for the fic, but is recommended.

-x-

Vladimir was less than pleased.

He was sitting across the car, listening intently to the radio and the reports of Chapayev back with the Romans. Every few minutes or so he would leap up into the turret and look around almost frantically, checking they hadn't been assailed in the short time since his last examination of the trees surrounding the Company.

His behaviour, which no doubt appeared that of a steely-eyed commander to the soldiers, was unnerving to Igor, who's military experience so far had been rather different from the others. He had known the Colonel long enough to see he was agitated, and it seemed to Igor with good reason. The battle a few hours ago might be seen as a triumph but given the inferiority of the enemy, who fought with stone and wood against the Soviet steel, but they'd still taken casualties among the infantry. Now Durov had to contend with an utterly known foe, who at the least had interstellar travel and energy ray weapons capable of firing over fifty kilometres. They had to charge a fortress, likely under fire, and then fight their way inside through confined settings and against an enemy of uncertain strength.

"Are we waiting for Ivanovich sir?" asked Ilya, looking up from Gibbon's book that he'd borrowed of Igor.

Durov frowned, "Mikhailov, what is the progress of SG-2?" he asked into his radio. He listened for the answer, one hand cupping one half of the headset to his ear, then muttered something under his breath. He looked at Igor for some reason.

"What? I'm not a military man." The Doctor repeated for what seemed the tenth time in the last few days. "Is another dozen men going to improve our situation? If it helps, fortresses often have escape tunnels, if we attack maybe Ivanovich can stay back and capture anyone who tries to get out? Mikhailov will see them won't he?"

"That's actually very helpful." Vladimir replied, his face brightening somewhat. Presumably he thought if Vulcan had an escape route the defenders wouldn't fight as hard as if they were trapped. He took up his radio again. "Suslov?" he asked.

Igor heard the crackle through the speaker: "We're ready Colonel. Guns are primed." Suslov said.

"Alright." Said Durov to himself, taking up his radio, "Ivanovich, come in!"

"Here sir! We're back on the track."

"Never mind that, if you get stuck again dismount the men and continue on foot. Abandon the vehicle if you have to. Guard the artillery here and wait for reinforcements. Coordinate with Mikhailov to prevent any escape once we attack." Durov ordered, and looked at the rest of them. "Petrenko, Ilya, you're with me. Igor, leave that," he said and took Igor's rifle away, setting it against a seat, "Dimitri, he's in your care. Doctor, get whatever books you need and follow us on my signal. Dimitri, you know what to do…"

"Yes Comrade-Colonel!" Shouted the big man, saluting and clapping a hand on Igor's shoulder.

Igor had the unfortunate burden of being the most important person on Elysium. He was hoping there would be buttons or levers inside, similar to some found in the Egyptian tombs of the Pharaohs, and that those buttons might have labels he could read. The soldiers had all been strictly ordered not to touch anything inside for fear of traps or explosions, or even just locking an alien door accidently. As such, Igor would follow later after the initial attack, to read these potential symbols and to try to open doors or somehow direct the attack down the right corridors.

Conversely however, there was the concern that Vulcan would commit suicide and explode whatever powered the energy rays to deny the Soviets the secrets of the alien technology. As such Igor would have to defuse any bombs they came across. Even if both went well, he was also the one to discover how the Stargate worked, and besides Durov, one of the people who knew the most Stargate addresses, including the Redoubt Base, and Earth's own address. While Durov might be captured, he didn't have the knowledge to work the gate, either scientifically or scholastically, whereas Igor did, at least for the latter. An analogy was made about how anyone could drive a car but few could fix them. A rather depressing discussion had followed this revelation, and Igor had told Durov that he didn't think he'd be able to shoot himself if the time came, so Dimitri had volunteered.

Igor didn't know if that made Dimitri a good friend or the very worst.

But there was little time for further introspection, and they all made their way forward to the edge of the trees. The men were tense, as they would be crossing about a kilometre of open ground without any proper armoured support and only a few of the scout cars and their machine guns to suppress any turrets Vulcan had.

Again however, they at least had smoke, which had been at least moderately effective at getting them through the pass mostly unharmed. They had six light artillery pieces, all loaded with smoke screen rounds, and also several mortar teams with the same ammunition. Each SG-team had several grenades of various sorts, different coloured smoke for signalling, and also fragmentation and anti-personnel weapons. Some teams had the scoped, night-vision carbines, one of which Ilya was carrying, while others had belt-fed machine guns, and all were well equipped with the Kalashnikov automatic rifle, giving them significant firepower at all ranges.

The scout cars, while useless inside, had their own machine guns and canons, which they would rake the fortress with and suppress any enemy position. At the least this would have a formidable morale effect, though Igor thought it unlikely to pierce the walls of the structure, or indeed be able to hit anything with accuracy through the smoke.

The firing started abruptly. The whump whump of the mortars and the dull booms of the artillery guns behind them, their rounds passing in blurs over the heads of the men.

"Comrades." Announced Durov, all nervous energy forgotten, his voice cutting clearly though the woods, punctuated by the steady barrage. "You all know your duty. Set to it, and make the Motherland safe for a thousand years." He stood, his rifle held easily in steady hands, his black beret stark against the smoke rising from a dozen points past the edge of the trees. "Now follow me!"

"Ura!"