A/N: Just a note, I'm not rooting for the RDA here, quite the opposite, the Coalition represents Communism, the RDA is Capitalism (Fascism, to a degree) and the Na'vi would be... I don't know, spiritualism? Religion? Whatever you want to call it, they are three ends of the spectrum, just like Quaritch, Augustine and Selfridge represented three sides of human greed (Will for power, will for knowledge and will for wealth.)

The Coalition isn't out to get rich, they're driven by near fanatical patriotism. Let's see what happens.

Andreï Popov had worked with Major General Konstantin many times before, but never on Pandora. Usually, missions on the moon's surface were left to either the Colonel himself or one of his section leaders, depending on the job, and it was as if a hundred pounds were lifted from his shoulders when the Major announced Colonel Popov would handle offensive operations.

Viktor had been on Pandora a few times as well, but never on offensive missions and this required an experienced leader. It took Popov exactly five minutes to think of a plan:

Samson transport helicopters had been abandoned on the runway, they were rather flimsy and unreliable compared to the Russian Ka-69 "Krokodil" but much faster and quieter. They'd do.

He took four, all loaded with six men including the pilots, and they took off thirty minutes after the ambush. The twenty four Spetsnaz didn't ask any questions as they took their places, a few joked about bringing one of the VTOLs back as a trophy or gifts for their nephews, but there were no complaints and they all listened to the Colonel's briefing carefully.

While they did have to sever the native's connection with Eywa before deploying any significant mining operation, it was unlikely the Na'vi would use their ace card right away, so this was no race against the clock, they simply had to make their way to… A civilian population, with children, women and elderly. Then they would drop in, guns spewing flechette ammunition fit to penetrate five inches of metal plating or automatic 40mm grenade launchers loaded with fuel air explosives.

The Samson shook as it rose off the pad, a violent impact that caused its pilot to jolt in his seat and look back to see the Colonel's fist imbedded in the ceiling.

"What's wrong, boss?"

Popov's face remained hidden behind his mask as he spoke to his men in all four VTOLs via helmet coms, so to everyone, even those next to him, the voice seemed distant, drowned in the past.

"I've been a soldier all my life, most of you enlisted out of college, but I started out almost a century ago." With cryo sleep and the numerous skirmishes on distant planets, many Spetsnaz were born during the twenty first century, back when there were still trees and people could eat things other than algae.

The nostalgia was obvious in Popov's voice, hitting his men like a freight train, "I did things in my life no man should ever have to do, killed so… So many… Things… My papa used to take me hunting, one day, I shot a bear, a mother with babies… I will forever remember his eyes, the disappointment."

Some of the youngest members were growing restless, kept silent only by their iron discipline, but most Spetsnaz knew what their leader tried to say. They let him carry on anyway, everyone watching the jungle unfold under their boots.

"There is no honour in murder, we do it because it has to be done..." He laughed bitterly, "If diplomacy worked, we'd all be drinking beer on a beach right now. Sometimes, however, all it takes is a few brave souls willing to try a little harder, to take the hard road…" He giggled softly, then spoke, this time louder, more commanding, "Now, where will you find braver men than Spetsnaz?"

The men cheered at this odd speech, unsure what this would mean for their mission. Andreï clarified a few seconds later, "Opa! That's my boys! Now, what do you say we have a chat with Corporal Sully?"

The men were not thrilled, but there were no objections.

Which was more than Viktor, back at Hell's Gate, could say about General Bai's leadership.

The man had taken a shuttle and three platoons down to personally oversee the takeover, never bothering to warn Major Konstantin nor ask him for his opinion. The man just climbed down a shuttle meant to be full of supplies and started yelling orders in Chinese.

Viktor did the same from the control tower, but without power cells, which were supposed to arrive on that shuttle, they could not reboot the base's electronic infrastructure. This was all nothing but a pile of expensive junk. In the meantime, he had his men patrol the compound while T-191s and Ogres used flame throwers to dispose of the Na'vis' bodies.

General Bai had a similar idea and sent his troops in the armory, to see what they could salvage, before making his way up the tower, where he was greeted by a Russian Sergeant with a Saiga demanding to see some identification papers.

This infuriated the General as much as it amused Viktor, but the Major kept a straight face under his mask. Both officers saluted each other and the Russian braced himself for what would come next.

"Major General." The man's accent and crisp behavior cause Viktor's fists to tighten hard enough for his gloves to groan.

"General."

"Care to explain why your men opened fire at the refinery?"

He almost laughed. Just the Refinery? Hell, they had wrecked the place up worse than a bunch of frat boys on spring break could! "The enemy was entrenched there," Viktor explained, still standing straight as a rod, as if parading, "They hoped to draw us in close combat. I refused to take the bait and had them flushed out."

Only half true, he hadn't thought of it that way at the time, but it made sense retrospectively.

"Do you know why we are here, Vik?" The General's tone was playful as he walked up to the shattered window, hands locked behind his back.

"Refining is not relevant, we just have to send the rocks back home, they'll handle the rest."

"True, but refining on site would have allowed us to send more." The General spoke with the unflinching certitude of a scholar, a thing he wasn't, but Viktor kept that remark to himself, just as he refrained from objecting the nickname 'Vik'.

He wanted to point out they would get more than they ever had anyway, to warn the General against greed. Nothing came out of his mouth because his eyes were taking up all of his brain's processing power.

Ignoring the General, he stepped out, on the catwalk, and squinted at the horizon.

"Is something the matter, Major?"

Turning around and up, he yelled at the roof, in Russian, "Snayper, zdes' i seychas!" and a pair of shimmering silhouettes rippled before handing him a rifle large enough to be a tank-mounted machine gun.

Viktor shouldered the weapon and peeked down its scope. "Blyat… Looks like…" He thrust the rifle on Bai's chest. "Here, am I going insane, is this cloud over there fly against the wind?"

The general peeked in, following Viktor's exact directions, and found the white dot on the horizon. It remained in place, just above the skyline, over the treetops. Around it, slivers of evaporated water drifted lazily to the south, but it refused to move.

They handed the sniper his weapon back and stared at each other in silence for a moment. Whoever that was, they either didn't use coms or used a type the Gorbachev couldn't intercept. Both made no sense and had worrying implications.

In the end, Bai sighed and unhooked a tight-beam communicator from his chest. "Velsaquez, we're not alone here, keep an eye out for stealth vessels…" He threw a glance a Viktor, who nodded once, "And thaw everyone out, I want all the men we can get down here as soon as possible. Bai out."

Konstantin switched filters, taking a moment to carefully screw the new one in place, and began setting up guard duties, patrol patterns and supply allocation on his arm mounted terminal.

Soon, this place would be very crowded. Hopefully, Korean, Cuban, Chinese and Venezuelan troops would get along on the long term, back on the ship they were kept separate with the vast majority in cryo.

Nobody would pick fights with his Spetsnaz, however, so that really was none of his concerns.

On the plus side, Alpha Group would soon be whole again! Not some half assed task force shoved in a shuttle, the whole detachment; tanks, missile launchers, artillery trucks, personnel carriers, gunships, heavy VTOLs and enough Ogres and Wolverines to take over a small country.

That made the Major General as happy and exuberant as a twelve year old at his first date.