barrayarmods: (Default)
For Barrayar mods ([personal profile] barrayarmods) wrote in [community profile] forbarrayar2017-02-02 08:00 pm

[ february i log ]

Who: Everyone
What: New arrivals, desperate times, whispers down the hall.
When: February 1st - 18th
Where: Barrayaran camp / Cetagandan base
Warnings: TBD


Quick links:
Barrayar: Barrayaran camp / Missions
Cetaganda: Cetagandan base / Missions



welcome to barrayar.
It's the dark of night when you come to in the foothills. Snow on the ground, chill winter wind whistling -- in fact, it's dangerously cold, and all you have is the clothes on your back.. A steep mountain range towers just ahead, its peaks illuminated by the light of two moons. Whatever you last remember, it isn't how you got here, and you feel oddly jetlagged, slightly queasy.

And you're not alone. There are a few other people close by, all looking equally lost and confused. But before any of you have a chance to figure out what's going on, the soldiers arrive.
There's a war on, they say, and you unlucky bastards have just been dropped right smack in the middle of it.

barrayar
The cold snap hits the guerrilla camp hard, especially with a handful of new people to care for. On the 1st, a few people from Riverfall Village come to the camp, Village Speaker Yakiv Gura among them, who seems to have a rapport with Piotr. They bring extra supplies with them, such as clothing, heavy wool blankets and bedrolls, as well as extra firewood to help fend off the cold. The new outsiders are accommodated the best they can -- they're all provided bedrolls and any extra clothing they (probably) need -- but the Barrayarans don't have an extra tent to spare, so that means all twelve outsiders are force to share a tent that ordinarily sleeps ten. On the plus side, it should provide some warmth. The cold is

A young boy comes in tow of the villagers; Speaker Gura tells Piotr that the boy turned up a week ago and insisted on helping them with the supply haul, despite his small size. He's clearly Barrayaran, and looks as though he might have been living on hisown for a while. He doesn't speak mcuh, and when asked his name, will only give it as Negri -- first or last, no one's sure, but the boy doesn't seem easily fazed. Piotr tells the villagers he has no room in his camp for lost children, but somehow the day after the villagers leave, Negri turns up in camp again. He's curious, but quiet and unobtrusive, wherever he is in camp. He's a very good listener…even when you might not want him to be.



On the 3rd, the Barrayarans and outsiders awake to discover that the part of the cave where they've kept the majority of their food supply has collapsed, either blocking their access to the cache or destroying it entirely. It's impossible to tell. The villagers can't spare much more than they already have been -- certainly not enough to feed the hundred and fifty-odd soldiers in the camp -- so while they try to find out a way to recoup their food supply, they have no choice but to slaughter their own horses for food. Food will be heavily rationed, but fairly -- the outsiders receive no less than the rest. The prisoners, on the other hand, get nothing. There probably isn't enough wild game in the area to sustain the camp, but Piotr sends out hunting parties, and when they get wind of a Cetagandan supply drop on its way, they organize a raid on the supply lines.

camp
With temperatures well below freezing, no food, and excruciatingly little in the way of advantage against the Cetagandans after their last infiltration attempt, morale is beginning to drop. Piotr and Olivia remain bastions of perseverance as always, but Sonia is beginning to buckle and wilt as the days go on. The soldiers do their best to entertain themselves and keep morale up, but all they've got are maple mead, and old card and dice games. They could use some new forms of entertainment. Maybe a snowball fight might get the blood moving -- assuming you can stand the wind chill. Thankfully, there's no shortage of warm clothes and wool scarves.

The cave isn't big enough to simply move all of camp inside, but the sickbay and mess tents are moved where it's a little warmer and out of the harsh wind. It's generally crowded with off-duty soldiers despite the food shortage, because no one wants to be out in the cold right now. Things get a little better after the mostly successful raids, but food is still heavily rationed.



missions
The hunting parties are only moderately successful; there isn't much wild game out there right now, and while the soldiers fare alright, the outsiders' hunting party fails miserably. The raiding parties yield a little more in the way of relief, enough now that they don't have to keep eating horse meat, but Pearl was captured by enemy forces in the chaos.

Maine helps Piotr with a very successful final interrogation of ghem-Miko, the Cetagandan scientist taken prisoner last month. He reveals that the Cetagandans have been studying the locations where exotics appeared, as it seems to be linked to wormhole technology, and that the Cetagandans are planning on building a device to control it. They have the technology, they're almost sure, but it's a puzzle they haven't solved yet. Ghem-Miko doesn't live long past his interrogation -- public execution by decapitation is his sentence, and when it's done, a few soldiers carry off his body and severed head.

Piotr's interrogation of Duv Galeni goes about as well but, blessedly, less fatally. It becomes known that Duv is from Komarr, the planet that sold Barrayar out to the Cetagandans, and that Duv Galeni is really David Galen, a relative of a few Counselors in the head of Komarran government. However, he's able to successfully convince Piotr that he isn't allied with the Cetagandans, and after a few days of agony, Duv is granted parole at Piotr's discretion.

On the evening of the 15th, Maine, Beth and Byerly inadvertently catch Vorhalas in the act of trying to sabotage what little of their food supply they've been able to recoup. He tries both fight and flight, but the three outsiders are able to take him down and drag him to Piotr's doorstep. It quickly becomes apparent that Vorhalas was responsible for the cave-in earlier in the month. Piotr is both furious and victorious; he now has a lead on the traitor conspiracy among his men, and his esteem of Beth, Maine and Byerly has gone up considerably for their part. Vorhalas is up next in the interrogation chair, and this one won't be pretty.

The unabridged event writeup is here.

cetaganda
The recent supply drop not only provides resources for the base and for distribution to their other outposts, but also brings fresh species for transplant into the gardens at the Grow Labs. The arrival of a handful of new exotics gives rise to a fresh wave of buzzing curiosity around the base. All of the new exotics are given thorough physicals, just as the first wave were, and provided with fatigues and anything else they might need. They make an even dozen now, their bunk at capacity. The Cetagandans are beginning to become accustomed to having the exotics on base, some of them even forward enough with their curiosity to be friendly. Darkstalker now has a small following of ghem lady scientists who regularly feature him as a subject in their art.

New arrivals will be processed as the first were -- once everyone has been whisked out of the extreme cold, everyone is subject to a thorough physical, including a number of scans that may or may not seem totally arcane to you. Other than a blood sample, nothing they're doing is at all invasive. Lady Diya d'Zefyst, while not a physician, is present at all physicals. She is easily notable not only for her striking, almost ethereal beauty as is typical of the haut, but, as the only haut on base, she is easily distinguishable by her lack of facepaint.

While the exotics still have freedom of movement around the base, the recent extreme temperatures have their hosts diplomatically suggesting they travel as much as possible, they are provided cold weather wear, as the mess hall and medbay are in separate buildings from the barracks. Weather warning aside, they encourage the exotics to take advantage of the non-restricted recreational facilities -- exercise rooms, art rooms, the lush gardens in the Grow Labs -- and will satisfy any reasonable curiosities.

base
In an effort to make the exotics feel more at home, the Cetagandans decide to put on the sort of function they might for visiting diplomats, full of art of all sorts, to show that they're just as willing to share their culture with the exotics as they're asking the exotics to share with them. The function is hosted on the evening of the 7th in an annex to the Grow Labs apparently meant for this express purpose, as it shows off the most beautiful and elegant of the Grow Labs' specimens, and acts as a live arboretum in and of itself, and quite vibrantly beautiful.



If there's one thing the Cetagandans are good at (besides art, and language, and genetics) it's throwing a good party. Functions like this are always an opportunity for Cetagandans to try and socially one-up one another; everyone is in their most fashionable dress in the latest fashions they manage to keep off-planet, or at least a dress uniform, wearing fanciful scents and vibrant facepaint they might not otherwise on the job. For the artistically inclined ghem (read: a lot of them), this is the chance to show off their artistic endeavors as well -- large sculptures of unusual and improbable materials, walkable installations meant to engage every sense, and of course the living art engineered by the ghem ladies, ranging from relatively simple and tame pieces such as koi fish patterned with clan insignia or black roses and blue orchids, to complex combinations of non-human DNA to create some genetic sculpture. There is, of course, food and drink -- in the usual flagrant Cetagandan style, although the hors d'oeuvres and drinks are even more ecletic than the usual mess hall fare. It seems as though the Cetagandan passion for genetic art extends even into the culinary realm.

At the center of the party is a particular kind of art installation called a discernment garden. Housed in a beautiful, improbably architectural tent, the discernment garden consists of a series of rooms, each meant to test the refinement of the senses -- not unlike a varietal wine tasting. Each room is dedicated to a single sense, inviting participants to judge a collection of samples and suss out the differences, or match tastes and smells and textures to labels; the end of the garden presents its visitors with a final art piece incorporating all five senses, as a final test of one's refinement. Some of the ghem might (a bit wryly) confess that this is actually more of an education tool used for Cetagandan children, but this is meant as a gesture of good will toward the exotics.



missions
On the evenings of the 6th and the 8th, some of the exotics do a little sneaking around, and not for the first time. York lends Kaidan his access badge to the R&D Lab on the 6th and Kaidan, along with Sans and Symmetra, stumble onto a whole lot of wormhole data and schematics to construct a device capable of controlling the phenomena of the exotics' appearance. On the 8th, Deanna and Natasha sneak around to the tactical buildings and overhear some marital discord between Zahal and Diya, and a troubling glimpse at their diverging plans.

On the evening of the 13th, Jasper, York and Daryl are all in the medbay when a biocontainment breach sends it into automatic lockdown, trapping them inside. They overhear Diya arguing with one of her subordinates over unauthorized use of ba genetic material, whatever that is.

The unabridged event writeup is here.
skelepun: (Default)

[personal profile] skelepun 2017-02-05 02:56 am (UTC)(link)
The answer isn't exactly surprising. The Jasper he knew once had similar opinions on humanity's worth, barring a few notable exceptions. And cats.

"Huh. See, I'm all about pathetic. Much easier to deal with." He shrugs, a decent approximation of cluelessness. "But that's just me."
Edited 2017-02-05 03:00 (UTC)
eugengineer: (pic#10725600)

[personal profile] eugengineer 2017-02-05 02:57 am (UTC)(link)
Even the haut lady looks distantly impressed at that. "I'm sure some of our engineers would be curious to hear more," Diya says, interest in her voice, although not altogether for that reason. Interest on behalf of the Empire, perhaps. "If you were willing to share. The Cetagandan Empire specializes more in the biological sphere. Applied hard-light technology on that level is something we have yet to witness."

"Was there an accident of some kind?" inquires the CMO, as a med tech prepares to jot notes down on Satya's chart. "With your arm, I mean."
eugengineer: (pic#10725607)

[personal profile] eugengineer 2017-02-05 03:05 am (UTC)(link)
"Evidently not." Diya's gaze is near-unblinking, settled on Natasha with a look of great interest despite the impassivity of her face. She steps away from the wall, closer to the exam table. "That's quite low," she says in a regrettable tone, inclining her head slightly. "Cetagandans routinely reach one hundred and fifty, often older among the haut. You could almost be mistaken for a ghem woman."

Diya's tone is mostly even and neutral, but it's more or less a compliment. "You must have gone some kind of therapy on the cellular level."
standsentinel: (headache)

[personal profile] standsentinel 2017-02-05 03:07 am (UTC)(link)
Kaidan stays on his knees with his new friend the trash can for a moment, one hand bracing himself against the wall while he waits to see if getting to his feet unaided is going to be a thing that can happen. A soft, hoarse bark of a laugh escapes him, before he grimaces at the taste of bile and an evening's worth of high-class food and beverages still lingering in his mouth. "I wish," he says. "Passed up a lot because I was worried about this."
shri: (» oh I'll leave you for dead)

[personal profile] shri 2017-02-05 03:21 am (UTC)(link)
[ her hands stay on the glass, for all he tells her to sit, but he gives her a name. 'Daryl', mouths it slowly to form the word in her mouth. Her ally, now, apparently.

Had to pick, had to pick.

Maybe it meant nothing, but she's dying, she knows she's dying, little by little, not the way she should. Not quick and at once and all together, on a battlefield. Not with Devi, no one to close her eyes, to lay her body into fire. No one to put her ashes into a river - so far from the Ganges, so far from the rights she had in utter devotion, as she had done for her husband.

No one she had given her name to willingly. Only been pulled from her.

She had to pick something, anything. A breath, a deeper one, something fogged wider as she draws her a line across to give her space she wants. Written with her littlest finger, a drawn out ceremony. Someone to know it, even if he did not even so well in English, it is not quite about him. This is purposeful as she curls around the letters of her language she has no one else to speak with, in it.
]

झांसी की रानी
लक्ष्मी बाई


[ and then, lower, the same curving way. It's no secret now, regardless. Her fingers shaking still ever so as she curls them into her hand. ]

Lakshmi Bai
Queen of Jhansi
Edited 2017-02-05 03:40 (UTC)
how_high: (pic#10987033)

[personal profile] how_high 2017-02-05 03:24 am (UTC)(link)
Negri watches Byerly from a distance, leaned against a tree while the man starts digging up little rocks. Negri does not have any good feelings about what happened to their food supply, and this is...maybe not suspicious behavior, but Byerly doesn't strike him as a very trustworthy person.
eugengineer: (pic#10725608)

[personal profile] eugengineer 2017-02-05 03:30 am (UTC)(link)
Ah, there it is. A confession of sorts. A hook. Diya's eyebrows raise slightly, a silent how does it work, then?
vorrutyer: (confused)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-05 03:31 am (UTC)(link)
At some point, during his investigation, By becomes aware of his shadow. And so, abruptly, in between one grab under the surface of the snow and the next, Byerly stands and turns and hurls a tiny rock in Negri's direction.

"Scat!" he yells. The rock...does not even come close to hitting the boy.
how_high: (pic#10987035)

[personal profile] how_high 2017-02-05 03:33 am (UTC)(link)
Maybe he's drunk. From what Negri has observed of the man, it would make sense. Negri doesn't even flinch at the motion, and the rock sails harmlessly past. He raises his eyebrows dubiously at Byerly.
vorrutyer: (I'm honestly having a time telling)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-05 03:36 am (UTC)(link)
Good God. Usually when he aims kicks at orphans in the street who won't leave him alone, they scatter. What on earth is wrong with this era? Why aren't the orphans more skittish? Honestly, dreadful things happen to orphans at this time and place. They ought to be afraid of their own shadows.

"I said get out of here," he calls, throwing another pebble vaguely in Negri's direction. "Go on!"
how_high: (pic#10987032)

[personal profile] how_high 2017-02-05 03:38 am (UTC)(link)
Negri's gaze tracks the pebble's trajectory as it falls short of him by several meters. He looks back up at Byerly, unimpressed, and doesn't move. Least skittish orphan ever.
natalia_vdova: (serious talks)

[personal profile] natalia_vdova 2017-02-05 03:40 am (UTC)(link)
"It is," Natasha agrees, and there's something a little sad to it. People she's known who have died, one of her oldest friends those has lived long enough to see Natasha look younger than her daughters. She doesn't seem bothered by Diya's scrutiny, like all of this is somehow familiar to her. It reminds her of the old days, of a woman that turned little girls into killers, that taught Natasha how to tend her own wounds. "Are you one of the haut?" It's curious, but her tone is slightly deferential, not wanting to offend if she's wrong as she tries to grasp at the social strata.

"I was part of a project that tried to create perfection at the cellular level. I don't age like most because cellular replication doesn't cause degradation," she admits. She doesn't know the exact specifics, but she'd read the project papers years after her initial escape. She leaves the exact nature of the program vague, her smile calm and almost placid.
vorrutyer: (really fucking stressed)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-05 03:42 am (UTC)(link)
Finally, Byerly comes over altogether and walks within striking range of Negri. Not that he does, of course, but the threat is there - and compounded by him lifting a fist and shaking it at the child.

"Go on. Go."
how_high: (pic#10987037)

[personal profile] how_high 2017-02-05 03:46 am (UTC)(link)
Either Negri doesn't believe the threat or it doesn't faze him, because either way, all he does is look up at Byerly, silent and oddly impassive for a child his age. He finds it more interesting to stay and see his present aggravate this man than listen to him and go off to find something potentially more useful to do.
vorrutyer: (annoyed and/or stressed)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-05 03:49 am (UTC)(link)
Damn it - Byerly shoots the boy a look that's equal parts long-suffering, angry, and incredulous. There's something about this look that says, Can't you cut me a break? But By stops short of slapping the child, even though as Vor and as an adult and as the annoyed party he'd be well within his rights to do so. Instead, he turns on his heel and stalks off, trying to pull together the tattered shreds of his dignity as he returns to his investigation.

"Fine. Stand there. Freeze to death. You'd be doing us all a kindness if you did."
dendarii: (fondness)

[personal profile] dendarii 2017-02-05 03:53 am (UTC)(link)
For you it's a trap. For me it's a lifelong goal. A wife and a whole herd of children ...

[ He sighs a bit just thinking of it. ]
vorrutyer: (rolling eyes)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-05 03:54 am (UTC)(link)
[ Byerly makes an elaborate gagging noise, which he caps off with a heavy slug from the bottle. ]
dendarii: (eidetics 163)

[personal profile] dendarii 2017-02-05 04:12 am (UTC)(link)
What, then? If not family. Is it just the parties, truly?
vorrutyer: (world-weary (and smug))

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-05 04:14 am (UTC)(link)
I'm sorry, how did we start talking about my happiness again?

[ Another draught, and then he offers the bottle to Miles again. ]

Here. I'm just living, Vorkosigan. Not all of us have grand dreams and high aspirations.
dendarii: (TW_S1_E3_0539)

[personal profile] dendarii 2017-02-05 04:19 am (UTC)(link)
[ A small sip in turn. He shrugs a bit, accepting the deflection. ]

Even so. Something to live for is important. We won't have the same options if we're stuck here. Is that what you were thinking about before I came back with the mead?
vorrutyer: (smug aka default)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-05 04:23 am (UTC)(link)
[ With a small smile: ]

It was not. No.
stompadour: (:T)

[personal profile] stompadour 2017-02-05 04:28 am (UTC)(link)
"Hah!" barks Jasper, although the laugh is a little unsteady from the cold. "True... but then getting taken prisoner by them in the first place would be even more humiliating."
dendarii: (bg054)

[personal profile] dendarii 2017-02-05 04:28 am (UTC)(link)
Then what were you thinking about? You didn't quite look happy to see me again.
vorbratta: (this is serious)

[personal profile] vorbratta 2017-02-05 04:31 am (UTC)(link)
That gets more laughter. She looks a wholly different girl from two minutes ago, a little more light in her eyes.

"Oh, I like that. Very good." She claps her hands again and tilts her head at him. He's his own kind of charming, wholly different from Byerly, and it's refreshing in its own way. And he is cute. That's pretty much a fact. Her smile tilts. "A master of love, eh? Funny, I don't think I've ever heard of you."
vorrutyer: (Backpfeifengesicht)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-05 04:33 am (UTC)(link)
But of course I was happy. You were bringing mead.