AN: I tried to find some primary sources to write some reports. Couldn't find any. Things like after action reports, or regimental inventories, or even government documents, just to get a better idea of how such things are written. Now yes I can just write them myself but it's just not the same. Might have to use Anglo-American templates though, which would be annoying. If anyone's got a site of them etc then please let me know! As such I've just written this chapter as a normal narrative sort of one, and have tried to convey a reasonable amount of information through it.
-x-
"And I'd like to arrange a meeting with the scientists." Said Basin, flipping through his notebook. "The social scientists I should say. Diakonoff, Lebev, Yanin and the others."
"Well Lebev's dead, so you can't talk to him." Replied Durov. The wounded Captain of SG-5 had guarded their rear as they advanced to Vulcan's throne room. After they'd come back for him they'd found him dead, his wound seemingly more serious than they'd thought. The medics hadn't been able to tell what was wrong with him, as the burn on his arm wasn't serious.
"What?" said Basin. "I saw him this morning at the crash site. Do you mean the Captain? I was talking about the Doctor. The one who explained the roman society with Comrade Diakonoff."
Durov blinked. He brought a hand to his face and massaged his forehead. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry-"
"You're tired Vladimir." Interrupted Basin, "And as your Deputy for Political Affairs I say you can't fulfil your duties having been awake so long."
"Barely a day."
"And?"
"There's too much to do." Durov said, and before Basin's response he held up a hand. "When Chapayev gets here he can take over. Till then we all stay active and awake. We've won a great victory today; I don't intend to have it walk off while I'm asleep."
Basin made a few more protests but less forcefully but eventually departed. Telling Durov that he'd be going around the camp on various errands. The commissar stopped to whisper something to Dimitri as he went out.
The Sergeant, who had been standing guard outside the tent, came in afterwards. "You should get some rest sir." He stated, "I can wake you when Comrade-Lieutenant Colonel Chapayev gets here." He said woodenly.
It was one of Dimitri's unfortunate habits that he would address superiors with excessive formality. Whether an officer, or an academic like 'Comrade-Doctor Diakonoff', Dimitri would invariably use their title, in addition to a 'Comrade' added on. Durov supposed the man might be trying to make up for Ilya's comparable informality, as the sniper often forgot to use Durov's rank, and would simply address him by 'Sir' if necessary. Both of them spoke easily to him though, no doubt due to their long association.
"Dimitri," Durov said, fixing him with a look, "At least try to lie to me." Of course it was obvious that the man was concerned, but also Durov couldn't think of another reason for Basin to have stopped to speak to him.
"I couldn't sir!" Replied Dimitri in a tone of mild outrage.
Durov smiled. "Well then go get me some coffee." He said, "And some for yourself."
Dimitri departed, leaving Durov to his thoughts. He sat in somewhat of a daze for a while, and began to think Basin might have been right about his need to rest.
He idly considered that SG-5 would likely have to be disbanded. At least in its current form. There was only one survivor, the only one not to have been wounded at all in the team's desperate sprint forward against the warrior-monks of Vulcan. Corporal Mikhailov was currently attending to the wounded, but would probably be one of the first to return to the SGC to be folded into another team.
Aside from the Corporal, another Mikhailov, this one a Captain was also wounded, his leg being broken along with a few ribs. He had demonstrated excellent presence of mind during attack on Vulcan to prevent the god from fleeing, and Durov was going to recommend him to be decorated for it. Indeed, several of the SG-2 soldiers who'd been wounded capturing Vulcan deserved decoration, including Captain Ivanovich.
Of the Stargate Company and its supporting artillery and similar troops, they'd taken around 30% casualties. Only a few of them had been wounded getting through the Beastman army, but SG-6 along with some of their supplies had been obliterated by the enemy artillery. After that they'd lost another two trucks and an armoured car during their charge through the smoke, losing another team and some of the Regimental personnel, and of course SG-3 had been almost wiped out by Vulcan's guards. Suslov though had had better luck, using the narrow corridors to prevent any flanking movements in the depths of the Palace, and the Major had managed to recover a number of other artefacts, as well as finding the hangar from which Vulcan had attempted escape.
Durov had a list of all the artefacts that he was deciding whether to send back to the SGC. He'd prefer to use air transport after building a proper runway in Vulcan's valley, and also back near the Stargate in the Roman city, as he didn't like to transport potentially fragile pieces of alien equipment over such rough terrain. Igor would be looking over them now though, and should be able to identify anything relevant that needed to be sent back.
The artefacts were a strange mixture of golden ornaments along with oddly shaped mechanical devices seemingly run by crystals, which Durov only recognised because he'd once built a crystal radio. While they were rather simple, but perhaps time consuming to deal with, he was having more trouble with the prisoners.
Vulcan, or at least the man who claimed not to be Vulcan, had attempted to explain the situation to them after he'd been captured. Apparently the 'gods' who had enslaved the ancient tribes of humans on Earth had transported certain populations away to grow on other planets and to be slaves. Not only were they slaves for physical tasks though, but Vulcan (whose name was apparently Gaius) had claimed that the aliens possessed them in the manner of a malevolent spirit. In any case, Captain Ivanovich had collected the serpent which had supposedly been controlling Gaius' movements and actions, and Durov was planning to have it sent back immediately to the SGC, as soon as he could get a proper escort for the convoy. They needed a proper biologist, or a team of them, to take a look at it, but perhaps Dr. Belik would give his opinion once he arrived with the rest of the medical staff.
Just then Dimitri came back with two steaming mugs. "Here sir."
Durov accepted, "Any word on Chapeyev?"
"No sir, but he should be here within," he checked his watch, "about 30 minutes if SG-10 managed to clear out some of those trees."
SG-10 were the Company's engineers, and the sounds of their blasting had been reaching them for the day or so after the victory. Originally they'd been there to break open any walls or obstacles on their way, but they were just as well employed in clearing the way for Chapeyev's slower vehicles which would be less able to climb the slopes of the valley up to their current camp.
They idled away in conversation for a short while, but soon the roars of diesel engines became audible through the aid. Durov perked up, infused by his coffee and the cold air, and strode out with Dimitri toward the entrance of the camp, arriving just as the first vehicles were rolling in.
Durov hailed an officer as he approached. "Colonel Durov sir!" the officer replied, "We tried to contact you with the radio on the way."
"Yes they aren't working well up here." Durov replied, "Where's Chapeyev."
But the man himself walked up just as they were speaking, having dismounted from one of the trucks now parked up. "Got any more of that?" he asked, looking at Durov's mug of coffee.
The other Colonel laughed, "Dimitri, go find us some more will you?" he told the big man, and then clapped Chapeyev on the shoulder. "We've done it." He said simply.
"Yes I can see." Replied Chapeyev. "But we do have a problem."
"Come back here and we'll talk about it then."
They walked back to Durov's command tent, finding Dimitri there with more coffee. Chapeyev took his mug and sighed, sitting down on an ammunition crate, as they'd not thought to bring any chairs on the raiding mission.
"What's this problem then?" asked Durov.
"Well then." Said Chapeyev, "I'll tell you it in order, that will make more sense. First, after you left the Beastmen broke completely, we pushed them easily off the road, and killed a lot of them. No sense of order, then seemed completely feral. Oh, also I brought along 'Ivan', he didn't seem particularly upset at all his comrades being killed, but that's for you to decide."
Durov thanked him, he hadn't thought of that.
"Our allies stopped to rest a little, and I sent Antipov along with the assault guns and a couple of companies. They're still with the army, and the Roman general said he can't send any cavalry, because there aren't enough left. I told him we'd welcome some of his infantry though. To be honest sir I'm not sure how useful they'll be…"
"But good for relations, yes I understand." Said Durov.
"In any case, Thurius made a speech, the ordinary stuff really, brandished that alien staff and so one." And Chapeyev frowned, "But then a man lunged out of the crowd and stabbed him."
"A spy? One of Vulcan's cultists? We thought there might be some." Asked Durov concernedly.
Chapeyev grimaced, "I think more likely from the Senate back at the capital. Kill the victorious general so he doesn't become more popular."
Durov frowned this time. "That is a problem." He mused, "And the general?"
"Fine, not even wounded, he was still wearing his armour."
"Some good news then."
Chapeyev continued: "The news of the victory spread quite quickly, and after I got your message about events here I sent it back to be relayed through the Stargate. During this process some sort of riot seems to have happened at the capital."
"What? Whatever for?" Durov couldn't think of a reason for people to be upset about the victory, either against the Beastmen, or against Vulcan. Unless of course the cult of Vulcan had permeated far more of the Elysian society than they'd suspected.
"It's possible that we may have to shoot our way back through to the Union sir." Said Chapeyev.
"That is unacceptable!" snarled Durov, "We have wounded here that must be attended by proper facilities, not here in a forest!" He thought for a moment, not only did he have the lives and health of his men to consider but also the transport of the artefacts back to the SGC for analysis. "We have Stanislav and a platoon back there don't we?"
"Yes sir, but if a whole city attacks they'd run out of ammunition before they could get back through the gate."
Durov grimaced and stalked away, motioning for Chapeyev to follow. "I'd hoped getting Vulcan would be the end of it." He explained. "I need to get Basin's opinion on this. And perhaps Igor's."
"No doubt sir. I don't want to have fought with the Romans just to fight against them."
"Yes, but we need to prioritise. However important it is to conduct humanitarian operations in support of our allies we must first secure our logistics. We can't lose the initiative by failing to analyse the alien technology we have."
"I agree entirely sir." Said Chapeyev.
Durov nodded, "Now there are a number of issues, but right now I want the Regiment in three different locations. A company to secure the crash site, as well as the route there. Another to protect the camp here and begin fortifications, and the rest of your men into the palace." He said, pointing off to the pyramid, "There's kilometres of corridors in there, and we need to find the rest of Vulcan's servants. Dispatch the first company, then we meet again to decide what to do about the Stargate."
"Yes sir!"