Strana Mechty, Winter Past, 2989.
How could something that had started so promising end up so terribly?
At one point in time, she seemed to have it all: ability, prestige, glory and an unassailable ambition that could destroy any obstacle in her path to ultimate power. Her instructors even considered her to be the greatest warrior since the mythical ilKhan Nicholas Kerensky donned his neurohelmet and climbed into his 'Mech to do battle with his enemies, they said. At one point, she was the most well-known ristar of the sibkos, even Khan Kerlin Ward spoke of her during a recent gathering of Bloodnamed warriors. How all of this had come to pass now. How she had bitterly resented this new turn of events.
Now she was considered just like everyone else in her sibko, just a typical warrior. How she had raged at this seeming unfairness, this strange twist of fate. She was born as a fusion of the greatest warriors in history and to be relegated to mediocrity was a colossal shame to her own heritage. She was supposed to be part of an ultimate lineage of soldiers that would carry through as the supreme conquerors, sculpting victories while striding through time. How this had all come to naught now.
Anastasia always considered herself to be destined for greatness from the moment she could walk and think for herself. While others in her sibko thought of honing their skills and toughening their bodies, she sought of ways to overcome each and every one of them. Those stronger than her, she made alliances with; those weaker than her, she remorselessly destroyed. In the end, she had created an alliance with her two strongest blood sisters, her virtual twin Natasha and the blond Katya. Together, they were an unstoppable force that could defeat all challengers to their utter supremacy. Anastasia could not wait until they were at last chosen as warriors, she was certain that once they had passed their trials of position, they would rule the Wolf Clan and soon, the entire Clans as well.
But how cruel could the fates be, how pitiless their trials and tribulations could become. The moment that their batch was joined with a freeborn sibko, a changing of fortunes began. Despite the trueborns seeming superiority, the freeborn used unorthodox tactics to maintain a stability that Anastasia had thought was impossible. The freeborn would not play according to Clan rules and traditions, they were more dynamic in their tactics and overall thinking; this confused the trueborns, who were so used to overcoming problems in the traditional ways that it gave the Freebirths an edge in a number of trials until a balance of power was achieved. Of particular irritation to Anastasia was a freeborn sibkin her own age who seemed to possess an extraordinary cunning as well as having great leadership qualities that overcame any physical limitations that he had, compared to his taller and stronger brethren. The boy's name was Jaime and Anastasia had a particular dislike for him that festered and ultimately erupted into open hatred.
Equilibrium could not and would not be maintained for long, however. In her continuous quest to ultimately prevail against the freeborn leadership of Jaime, Anastasia openly declared that the first one to successfully climb the summit of the great spire would be the undisputed leader of the entire sibko. This seemingly foolproof plan backfired when Jaime became the first Freebirth ever to complete the climb and had beaten her as well. Her own sisters, Natasha and Katya, openly sided with the upstart Freebirth after she had tried to kill them in a vain attempt at winning the contest. Within a few scant hours, Anastasia metamorphisized from the next saKhan into just another member of the latest batch of wolflings that were preparing for warrior caste trials. The loss of prestige was a crushing blow to her once seemingly limitless ambition.
Deep within her lurked a snarling wolf, waiting and biding its time before it could at last return to the pinnacle that it once towered upon. As time passed, her guiles and plots became even more insidious to the point that she knew there was but one choice, she would now kill in order to return to the glory she so craved.
The workgroup had nearly finished the maintenance work on the boundaries of the Clan enclave. Strana Mechty's sun had begun to set over the horizon and the wind began to howl. A number of the junior sibkin protested that they should be getting back to the base camp soon for they were not equipped to stay overnight in the rapidly freezing weather but Anastasia would not be influenced by their arguments. Instead she lashed out with her white baton, her symbol of authority over the younger cadets and quite a number of them endured short, vicious beatings, which left some with black and blue marks all over their bodies.
Anastasia walked over to where Joshua and Cranston was. The two younger boys had tried to replace a malfunctioning boundary fence pole for almost half an hour but their lack of digging tools was hampering their progress. It also didn't help matters that Anastasia had confiscated their toolkits because they dared to give her dirty looks all during the afternoon.
"Have you not completed your assigned work yet?" Anastasia shouted. "You stravag dogs have yet to run diagnostic tests on two more poles which should have been done over an hour ago!"
Joshua stopped his work and faced her. "If you will give us back our digging tools and diagnostic kits, we would have been finished a long time ago."
A quick blow from Anastasia's open palm staggered Joshua as she hit him on his cheek. A red welt appeared on his temple but he kept his composure. He wasn't going to let her get the better of him by showing that he was weak.
"I said no talking, did I not?" Anastasia said. "You Freebirths make me sick. You are so stupid that you cannot even follow simple instructions, quiaff?"
"You seem to hate us, Anastasia." Cranston said as he too stopped working and walked over beside Joshua. "You are jealous of us Freebirths because it was a Freebirth that beat you to the spire."
Cranston immediately doubled over in pain as the red-haired teenager delivered a wicked kick to his groin. Before anyone else was able to react, Anastasia followed it with a blow to the back of the younger boy's head from her baton which sent him straight to the ground, lying on his side and groaning in agony.
"No!" Joshua screamed as he saw Anastasia about to deliver another blow to his prone comrade. He quickly kicked the baton away from her. The half-meter long stick made of ultra high-density carbon fiber landed beside him as he saw the color drain from her face.
"You scum!" Anastasia was livid with rage. "Pick up that baton and give it back to me!"
Joshua said nothing as he stood his ground.
"Did you realize what you just did?" Anastasia's grimace turned into a devious smile. "You have just assaulted a superior during a field exercise, you Freebirth dezgra."
The younger boy's face turned to dismay. By fighting back against her, he had played right into her game. Assaulting a superior was grounds for court-martial or even worse, trial by combat. It was considered dezgra, a dishonorable action. Now he had to face immediate punishment.
Anastasia turned to the other cadets that where gathering around them. "The rest of you, return back to the enclave." She ordered. "Now!"
Not wanting to incur further wrath, the other cadets began walking away as the sun began to dip even further. Within a few minutes, only Anastasia and Joshua remained. Cranston was still lying on the ground, it seemed that he had lost consciousness from the pain. The slightly older woman began to pace around the rebellious lad.
"I charge you with a capital offence on a superior commander." Anastasia said as she picked up her baton and kept circling around him. "Do you wish to invoke a Trial of Refusal?"
"Neg." Joshua's voice was barely a whisper. He knew that if he dared to invoke that, Anastasia would declare a circle of equals right then and there. Knowing full well what she was up to, he realized she would make sure that it would be a battle to the death.
"Then you shall be punished." Anastasia smiled as she stood behind him. "And as the superior in the field it shall be at my discretion, quiaff?"
Before Joshua could respond, he felt a crushing blow at the base of his spine as Anastasia swung the baton at full force. The next thing he knew he was on his knees as the devastating pain overwhelmed him.
"Get up." Anastasia ordered.
As Joshua first got on one knee and then raised himself up after several seconds, he felt another blow, this time aimed at the back of his knees. Again he doubled over in agony. After a few seconds that seemed like hours, Joshua once again got up into a military stance. Almost immediately, another blow, this time directed on his shoulder, staggered him as he could barely maintain his balance because of the blow.
"Had enough, freeborn scum?" Anastasia said.
Joshua said nothing as he smiled back at her.
It was a defiant gesture, one that only served to inflame Anastasia's temper as she ran up to him and swung her baton upwards into his solar plexus. Joshua felt a couple of ribs crack as the air was sucked out of his lungs and he once again fell to the ground. Even as the waves of pain swept across his body, he still felt a sense of resistance at what she was doing to him, he had decided that whatever happened now, he would stand up to her no matter what. With supreme effort, Joshua raised himself up to a standing position, just barely.
"You wish to test me then, quiaff? So be it." Anastasia said as the baton connected with Joshua's chin.
Joshua felt a couple of teeth come loose from the bridge of his oral cavity as his jaw nearly shattered from the force of the blow. He stayed upright as bits of enamel and blood began to seep out from his mouth.
"Why will you not stay down?" Anastasia shouted as she got behind him and delivered a series of blows to his kidneys. The searing pain brought him down once again but he started to get up once he lost all feeling in that part of the body.
But Joshua's will convinced his battered body to keep resisting as he began to raise himself up by sheer focus. Seeing the boy once again raising himself up, Anastasia had had enough. If she couldn't humiliate him or cow him, then she would deliver the ultimate punishment. Anastasia was certain she could deal with any recriminations in the future.
Using her baton as leverage, Anastasia wrapped her arms around Joshua's throat as she began to apply pressure on his windpipe. The boy let out a shrill scream that was abruptly cut off as Anastasia continued to strangle him. Joshua tried to struggle but his battered body could only offer token resistance as his fingers tried to claw Anastasia's face but she turned her head; all he could grab at was her jacket. Within minutes, Joshua began to black out from the pain around his throat.
"Stop!" Anastasia heard a shout from behind but her mind did not register it into her thought process as she continued her relentless chokehold. Within a split second, however, a terrific blow threw her back from the dying boy as she fell back, nearly toppling over a nearby crevasse that marked the boundary of the enclave. The trueborn teenager quickly recovered and she picked herself up as she faced the one who assaulted her.
It was Natasha. She was standing over Joshua as the boy began to slowly stir back to consciousness. "What have you done?" She screamed.
"What I should have done a long time ago." Anastasia smiled. "Once that Freebirth dog was dead, his brother would have had no choice but to challenge me to single combat. Then I would be back at my rightful place as leader of our sibko, quiaff?"
"Neg." Natasha seethed with rage. "This time you have gone too far."
"So now you have lived up to your Widowmaker heritage, traitor!" Anastasia too lost her temper. "You side with these freeborn scum when we could have been rulers of the sibko!"
"And you would have killed both me and Katya for your precious glory! I will not have anything to do with your ambition!" Natasha shouted.
Anastasia's voice was low, but it was one tinged with malice. "You are either with me, or against me."
"Then I am against you." Natasha made her decision. "Your cause ends now."
"So be it, traitor." Anastasia said. "I will spare you no quarter. After I am finished with you, I will kill the boy."
"Then one of us will die, Anastasia. Is this what you truly want?"
"Aff!" Anastasia said as she withdrew her blade from its sheath. It was the standard issue Wolf clan combat knife, made from carbon polymers, with a serrated top and a slight curvature on its tip; it was a highly effective weapon. "No quarter will be given!"
"And none shall be asked." Natasha concluded the challenge as she withdrew her own blade. It was an antique Sykes-Fairbairn commando knife given to her as a gift by Joshua and Cranston. Based on an ancient Egyptian design, it was a thin, black double-edged dagger that radiated death.
Amateurs hold a knife with its blade pointing downwards in their grip. It is an awkward style of attack due to the fact that the blade can only be thrust in a downward motion to be effective. Therefore, the amateur holds no surprises and their blades can be easily blocked. A street-tough holds the knife with the blade pointing upwards from the hilt and tries to stay mobile during a knife fight, using his natural agility and speed to dodge and evade any incoming blows from a similarly armed opponent while using the knife in a slashing style, attempting to wear down his enemy with little cuts. Though the display of dancing around and flashing your blade would look good in a tri-vid movie, it is pathetic when you compare it to a professional.
Trained killers hold their blades in an upward grip style like those of streetwise toughs. But that's where the comparison ends. A professional stands flatfooted, holding his ground and staying in a spread-legged stance to maintain his balance, only moving around when an opportunity presents itself, either shifting sideways to trap or flank an opponent, or moving forward to deliver the deathblow. While a gang member doesn't care about his secondary arm, keeping it away from the enemy as if it was a distraction, the other arm is an integral part of a professional knife-fighter's technique, it can be used to block or trap an opponents blade, thereby leaving one's enemy vulnerable to the stab in the critical areas of the body, such as beneath the ribcage, major arteries or the throat. A professional can also slash but unlike a street tough, who only causes superficial damage to tissue when they cut, a professional always goes for muscles, major arteries or tendons in order to cripple an enemy in preparation for a deep stab at their vital areas.
And both Anastasia and Natasha had been trained thoroughly in the art of knife fighting.
As both sisters took off their jackets, preferring to fight in their jumpsuits as the wind began to howl around them, Joshua managed to crawl over to where Cranston lay, hoping that his comrade was not severely injured. As he rolled Cranston over to his side with his good arm, he saw that his sibkin's face crinkled in a grim smile as Cranston held onto to a communicator that was hidden beneath his body as he lay on the icy tundra.
"What?" Joshua's voice was barely a whisper as it came from his raw throat.
"Emergency communicator." Cranston whispered. "As she was beating you, I send a coded text message to Natasha."
"You fool. She will kill Natasha." Joshua groaned as he began to slide back into unconsciousness once again.
Although only a few seconds had passed since the duel began, both sister's secondary arms were mangled from the constant stabs and cuts as each one tried to get inside each other's guard to deliver a killing blow. While Natasha's attacks were more intelligent and precise, Anastasia had a determined rage that enabled her to maintain an aggressiveness that came with the belief that she was in a life or death struggle and so her attacks were striking home with relentless concentration. Natasha still believed that they could resolve their fight without either of them getting killed and so she hesitated in pressing home her own attacks. Consequently Natasha had more serious injuries on her arm than her rival sister had.
The seconds seemed like days as the icy ground beneath them began to be sprinkled with crimson stains from their bleeding forms. Anastasia drove her knife in sideways, hoping to tear up the ligaments along the elbows of Natasha's blocking arm but the latter was able to twist her limb at the last second as Anastasia's blade cut into her forearm, a spurt of blood jetting out from the stab.
"Anastasia, we must stop this." Natasha's voice was panting, as she could barely catch her breath. "Before it is too late."
Despite her injuries, Anastasia was grinning like a red-haired demon, a burning fire in her eyes. "It is already too late, my traitorous sister." She said. "Prepare to meet our founders."
Natasha tried to jab at Anastasia's side but her sister rapidly jumped back and tried to stab the inner part of her wrist, were the artery was located but Natasha was able to twist her forearm so the knife blow landed on the top of her wrist instead. Anastasia's blow was still powerful enough that Natasha screamed as she dropped her knife from the searing pain.
As Anastasia drove forward to get in a critical stab, Natasha kicked at the ground and drove bits of sand and snow onto her sister's face. As Anastasia screamed in frustration and backed up to clear her vision, Natasha lunged for her own knife that had fallen on the ground. As she started to pick up her fallen knife, Anastasia recovered quickly and made a downward stab aimed at her sister's throat. Natasha quickly saw her attack and was able to twist her neck at the last instant as her sister's knife plunged into her left shoulder.
Natasha screamed as blood gushed out from her torn shoulder and she started to collapse. Anastasia's blade lodged itself in her collarbone and both fell onto the ground, Anastasia struggling desperately to free the knife for another stab as her twin sister twisted in pain underneath her. Natasha knew that she would die unless she accepted the fact that she would need to kill for it was the only way to survive now.
"How does that feel, traitor?" Anastasia taunted her writhing sister as she was at last able to pull out her knife from Natasha's shoulder. Blood seeped from the blade as Anastasia positioned it over her sister's throat. All she needed to do was drive it down and it would be all over.
"It is not over for me, but it is over for you." Natasha hissed as her bloodstained hands caught Anastasia's wrist and began to twist it the other way.
"No!" Anastasia shouted as she fought with her sister over the knife. She was trying to drive the hilt downwards to Natasha's throat but it seemed as though her sister just willed the knife to stop and hover, just an inch from her jugular.
As if by some unstoppable force, the knife began to twist until the tip of the blade now pointed to Anastasia's own throat.
"No!" Anastasia screamed as the blade plunged beneath her chin and was driven in all the way to its hilt.
Anastasia gagged as she began to choke in her own blood. She let out a gurgling wheeze and then fell over on her side as her life began to seep out from her. The pain was no longer felt but the darkness seemed so overpowering, so absolute. The last thing she felt was the cold swirl around her and she lost all sense of thought and feeling then.
"Are you all right?" Joshua said as he helped Natasha to her feet. Anastasia did not realize it but while they were struggling with the knife on the ground, Joshua had crept over and held her other arm on the ground so that she would be unable to use both in order to try to push the blade into Natasha's throat. While Natasha used both hands to pull the knife back from her own throat, Anastasia was fighting one-handed without realizing it. It cost her dearly and she paid the ultimate price.
Despite the pain, Natasha felt an overwhelming sadness grip her as she saw her sister's lifeless body on the snow. They had grown up together. They were supposed to be destined for great things and even greater glory. Now it was all for nothing. For long minutes she stood there, blood dripping from her wounds as emergency search parties began to approach her.
After they tended her wounds, they asked her what had happened. But Natasha ignored them and began walking back towards the enclave. Joshua tried to follow but decidedly changed his mind when he saw the look on her face. It took her hours to get back on foot with the cold wind sapping her warmth.
And she refused to speak about the incident or her dead sister ever again.