<------------ Victory is mine! thanks Frater.
Here you go Frater. CS is pmed to you.
[ Spoiler ]
B a c k g r o u n d
Gregori Nikolaiovich Stravogin as born in the Ural Mountains of Russia, in a small and for the most part unremarkable peasant town, the son of a deserter from the Russo-Siberian wars (Nikolai), and a peasant girl (Olenka). While growing up, his father drank, smoked, played cards, begged, and on occasion stole, as well as pimping out his common-law wife. Olenka for her part was good natured about it. Gregori was the small shining light in Olenka's life, and when possible she spoiled him with the occasional sweet. For his part, Gregori grew up a petulant and distempered child, who could not be controlled by his gentle mother, and was simply more spiteful after the severe beatings of his father. At the age of 6 he'd already spent much of his days as a street urchin, running with crowds of other boys, begging, filching and generally being disagreeable. His father was arrested for desertion when Gregori turned 12. He was presumably executed, although Gregori can not say for sure. Relations with his mother soured considerably. He was arrested at the age of 15, for assaulting and savagely beating a vendor selling potatoes, unfortunately the man died. Gregori was charged as an adult, very rapidly convicted of manslaughter, and shipped to a prison-work camp in the Russian wilderness. As a young, good looking child, the chances of him ending up opuschiny (someone whose been prison-raped) seemed good. It only took three days, before a group of four heavy set men set upon him during one of the few shower times. Back to the tiled wall, Gregori fought animalistically, including smashing in one would be rapists left eye socket. The attackers fled the unexpected conflict, leaving the boy panting and bleeding on the shower floor. For his part in the shower room brawl, the authorities sent Gregori to the black hole, a brick outhouse away from the main prison structure, where he was isolated as punishment. (the guards believing any young boy that wasn't bested by four grown men was clearly troubling.) He was fed only intermintently, and the isolation began to effect his mind. During the day, there was nothing but the sounds of the surrounding forest, and at night, the howling cry of wolf-packs covered the air. It was on his twentieth day, that Comrade Volk came to him. A huge grey wolf, (in Gregori's feverish mind) spoke to him for the next 3 days, in hushed tones and without interuption. He told Gregori that to survive he must accept organization, and hierarchy. A pack to protect, and be protected by. Something to give loyalty to, and to devote the strength which Nature had blessed him. Comrade Volk said failure to do that would surely mean death, for the denizens of the prison would eventually wear him down. On the 24th day, he was pulled, dehydrated, malnurished but alive from the black hole. After a brief stint in the medical wing, Gregori reentered the prison population. He could see the different groups gathered in corners, including the cafeteria table where his attacker were seated. Gregori looked around, and found an empty table, and began striding towards it, trying not to look frightened. Suddenly he felt a hand on his arm.
"No." a young man, perhaps 18 sitting at a table with a few other men, had Gregori firmly by the bicep. "Do not sit by yourself, I will make room for you here, sit by yourself, and you mark yourself as a man with no friends." Gregori nodded, "Thank you." He sat down other side of the bench.
"I'm Kostya, you?"
"Gregori." Kostya offered the young boy a cigarette and leaned back lighting his own..
"These are your friends?" Gregori asked, gesturing to the group of 2 or 3 men seated around the table. One man in particular caught his eye. an older, greying man, wearing black sunglasses, even in the dark, uneven light of the prison.
"Yes." Kostya smiled big, "I am connected in this place. That man," Kostya pointed, is "is Anton. He a member of the Organizatsiya."
Gregori only shrugged, "So?"
"He is connected to everyone, a big fish." Gregori nodded, turning to watch where the group of men who'd attacked him, sat, laughing and drinking tea with two or three guards.
"What about them?" Gregori said, pointing, Kostya slapped his hand down.
"Don't point." Kostya said. "They are Suki. Traitors who snitch to the guards in exchange for privileges. The guards in turn let them do as they wish. They are a problem for everyone. Their business with you, most unfortunate.' Gregori simply nodded, scowling at them from across the table. Then he looked at Anton, who was sipping tea, and chewing idlely on a sugar cube. He looked at Gregori, and than nodded.
"Anton wishes for you to do him a favor. That little one, the one with the bandage over his left eye. Kill him." Gregori looked at the men over Kostya's shoulder.
"Why?"
"Because of him Anton did 6 weeks in the black hole for contraband, that one informed on him."
"If Anton is so important, how come he doe not just do it himself?"
"The guards will shut down business. We must be able to continue to sell drugs to the other inmate, or we will not have enough money for bribes to the guards. This is no good, Anton and those connected to him, cannot do this thing. But you, your reason for doing it.. is..obvious. They will not ask questions." Gregori nodded.
"Let me think on it for a moment, and I will tell you tomorrow."
When Gregori returned to his 4x4 foot concrete cell that night, pacing back and forth nervousily, until finally curling up against the cold concrete wall and falling sleep.
That night Comrade Volk came to him again.
"You are thinking that you do not wish to do this?" the wolf asked, quietly, as it stood between the doorway of his cell.
"I am not a murderer." Gregori said. "I am here by accident because I could not control my temper, not because I'm a murderer. Last time I was only defending myself."
"Is it murder when the wolf kills the sheep? No. It is not, it is life and the way of life. Some live, and some die. You find yourself either predator, or prey."
"The wolf lives in the forest for 5 years, the donkey for 10." Gregori replied, quoting an old russian proverb his mother had told him, what seemed like a long time go.
"It may live forever, but it does so pulling the peasant's plow. Better to die young, but honored. Respected. Beloved by your brothers and pack, for nobility and strength. Or perhaps you would rather pull a plow." The creature turned to go. Gregori let out a cry, "No. I will do it."
"Move only when it is the right time. Strike quickly. Go for the throat, cub, and do not let go."
"Can you help me do this?" Gregori asked the beast.
"I will help you help yourself." Comrade Volk turned and left.
Gregori awoke.
Gregori had to wait three days to make his move. When it ended, the one eyed man lay on the cold concrete of the prison cafeteria, blood spurting from the stab wound in his juglar, and Gregori was back in the Black hole, this time for a month.
But he was not alone. Every night Comrade Volk came, teaching him the cycle of nature, of predator and prey, and of magic.
He spent 7 more years in prison, finally being released after a pardon bought by Anton. And as Anton and Kostya taught him the ins and outs of criminal and prison life, Comrade Volk taught him the magics to use, to strength himself, and serve his pack. He moved to Vladivostok, staying in an apartment paid for by Anton, and began making extortion collections, collecting moneys from brothels, drug and chip dealers serving his new found family with little reservation. After 2 years of this, Anton called him into the warehouse where he did business. Things were prosperous in Vladivostok, and Anton craved expansion. A place in the UCAS to gain a foothold. Did Gregori have any ideas as to where would be a good place? Gregori said he did. Seattle. The UCAS enclave. A little Canadian-American Vladivostok, waiting. Anton smiled, as Gregori had read his mind exactly. He told him passage was booked on merchant vessel, and that Gregori was to go, and assist a man name Sergei in setting up business in North America. Gregori readily agreed.
Gregori has been in Seattle for almost a year now, making connection, and preparations for establishing a Russian foothold in the city. Comrade Volk visits him still, when he is alone and things are difficult. Gregori's never felt more a part of something than he does now.