Zaporoche ~ an Illya backstory~ chapter 4

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

link to chapter 3:http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/222427.html?replyto=1468123

Seven years later the war was long over, though far from forgotten, especially to Illya Kuryakin who had spent the rest of his childhood in an orphanage and State school. There he was eventually recruited by Victor Karkoff to Glavnoye Razvedyvatel'noye Upravleniye, the foreign military intelligence main directorate. Seeing the boy was intelligent, Victor encouraged Illya to complete his education and sent him to the University of Georgia, while sponsoring him to the Military intelligence. Orphans were the perfect candidates for this line of work...

The young Russian completed his education dutifully, graduating from the University of Georgia at a very young age. Soon it would be time for him to begin his mandatory military service in the Soviet Navy and after that he would fully enter the world of espionage as an agent in training for GRU. He had already seen some, as his sponsor Viktor Karkoff saw to it that he was fast tracked through his pre-training.

As Illya expected of all things Soviet; basic training in seamanship was difficult and the instructors, task masters. He suffered at their hands many times because he was small and skinny, and they thought him an easy mark, a loser. Soon he developed a reputation of being a scrapper just as he had back in the orphanage and was know as one who never gave up in spite of the odds.* He handled everything they threw at him, including being thrown into the frigid waters of the sea, thankfully he was strong swimmer, though his proclivity to sea sickness added to his sufferings.

The schooling intense, the training was gruelling and Illya barely survived basic training, as some did not. They're bodies disappeared into the Baltic, never to be seen again.

Illya had a month to himself before reporting for duty on board the Zulu class submarine, ' Moskva.' and decided to do something he had longed for since he was a child. He remembered fondly the visit of the priest, Father Demya, and the stories of the Cossacks and the Zaporozhian Sich on the island of Hortitsa, in the middle of the Dneiper River back home.

He'd always wanted to learn to ride like the Kazaki and making his way to the steppes, where many of the descendants of the Zaporozhian Cossacks still lived.

They were a nomadic people and even after their loyal service to the Soviet Union, were looked down upon by the government. The Kazak ways were disappearing slowly, with many of them being forced to abandon their freedom and live in cities.

But on the steppes, Illya knew he could find one of the last true enclaves of Kazak life, and there he would stay for the month, if they'd have him, and hopefully let him learn to ride their way, fulfilling his childhood dream.

There was something about the young blond Russian that called to the local leaders of the tribe, when he approached them, perhaps there was the sadness about him, or it might have been his love of horses that had them even consider welcoming him into their midst.

Illya had walked boldly into their encampment one day, dressed in traditional clothing, a Russian style men's shirt, but white without embroidery, signifying he was going through a period of transformation in his life. Such symbolism was a powerful message to the traditional Cossacks.

People wore white clothing during any period of change in their social role. Russians believed that during any life transition the border between material and spiritual world became thin and transparent. A light of heaven shone upon a person-in-passage. this could include children under the age of eight to seniors over sixty, brides to be but a few hours before their wedding, as well as those destined for the military. The white clothing signified the light of heaven...

By dressing this way, Illya would show the Kazaki that he had respect for the old ways as did they. As to whether he really did or not, did not matter, all that mattered was that the Kazaki perceived that he did. His classes for GRU were already teaching him to think differently.

But still he did have respect for them as a people, that his pre-training at the Aquarium, the name for the mysterious GRU headquarters, could not take that away from him. His was to be a life of deception and misdirection, but deep down he would hold onto the things his father, mother and grandmother had taught him.

In spite of his upbringing, life in the orphanage had once put him on a bad path, but there a girl named Natasha pointed him back in the right direction, and brought hope and love back into his young life. * But now, given his future occupation in the world of espionage, life for him was to be a game, yet one where he would let his masters think he was a good little Soviet Citizen, all the while keeping to his own morals while he tried to stay under their radar, and stay alive.

He believed in Communism, but realized his government was not keeping to its teachings and beliefs. Life was flawed and the people who should have reaped the benefits of the collective suffered...many in poverty. It was again, the haves and have-nots. In spite of the efforts of the Soviet leadership, and the loss of millions of lives in the name of Communism, nothing had really been altered...

Illya Kuryakin was just a cog in a great wheel and could do nothing to change that. All he could was to go where he was told to go and do what he was supposed to do, keeping a low profile and hopefully remain alive.

For now he put that all aside as he stood with his hat in hand, so to speak, in front of the Yuli Borisovich the ataman, who was the leader of the Cossack sich.

Illya was in awe of his appearance, as the man was clothed in traditional Kazak garb. On his head he wore a Kuban Cossack hat of lambs wool, and a dark blue mid-calf coat, with pockets on the both breasts that would have held rifle bullets. The cuffs were large and bright red. His pants were faded, but must have been black one time, and his brown boots were up to his knees.

Borisovich removed his hat, scratching his head, revealing his head was shaved on either side but his grey hair from the top to the back was fashioned in a tight braid, in the traditional Oseledets, or roach hairstyle. His moustache was white and long, worn in the old Slavic way, drooping well down past his chin. He was strumming on a large stringed instrument called a bandura, one that was Ukrainian in origin, and he did not look up until he was finished with his tune

.

The people of this sich were mostly descendants of the of the Black Sea Cossack Host, originally Zaporozhian Cossacks and the Caucasus Line Cossack Host. Many of their high-ranking leaders had been sent by Stalin to the Solovki gulag or killed out right.

With the destruction of the Zaporozhian Sich, many of the Cossacks settled in the Kuban region of Russia and became known as the Kubanskiye kаzaki or Kuban Cossacks. Although numerous Kazak groups came to inhabit the Western Northern Caucasus, but still, most were of the Kuban Cossacks.

Illya said nothing to them, keeping his own secret that his grandfather, the former Count Alexander Sergeivich Kuryakin had also been sent to his death in Solovki...**

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* ref "The Orphanage"  ** ref to "Beginnings" and "The Gambit Affair" all under Mlaw on Fanfiction.net

http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/225696.html

Comments

[jkkitty.livejournal.com]

Very enjoyable backstory you are working on.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you, these are my favorite stories to write.

[jkkitty.livejournal.com]

The research and pictures really make it especially enjoyable.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thanks, takes a lot of time, but it's worth it.

[svetlanacat4.livejournal.com]

"he would let his masters think he was a good little Soviet Citizen, all the while keeping to his own morals while he tried to stay under their radar, and stay alive."
Illya... Exactly Illya...
Dream of Illya in his Russian style white shirt...

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Yes Illya in his white shirt, I know you like that look! :D Thanks for catching up and commenting, Part 5 on Wednesday, as tomorrow is PicFic tuesday.