[ february i log ]

[barrayarmods]

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.

Comments

[dendarii]

[ Miles grits his teeth. ]

And Byerly is the very picture of loyalty. Sticking his nose everywhere it could possibly go.

[vorrutyer]

[ He greets this with an ironic bow and a recitation of the story he's built. ]

Doing everything I can to gain a favor or two, so that I don't starve. Self-interest isn't loyalty. And that wasn't all that witty, Illyan. So tell me - how did you manage to get yourself hurt when everyone else stayed whole?

[dendarii]

[ He wants to snap back something witty here. Or at least sarcastic. The shape of the comment is quite clear on his face: What would you know about loyalty, given you apparently have none? But instead of speaking, he lurches forward a step, barely preventing himself from falling to the ground.

Privacy. Now. He can feel the pressure in his head building. The lights flickering behind his eyes. With another rude gesture, he hurtles for the edge of camp in a way that very much resembles storming off. ]

[vorrutyer]

[ It's all that By can do not to literally snarl in anger. An ugly sound that would be indeed, all out of step with his urbane image. It's all he can do not to wring the fucking mutie's neck. Instead, he keeps pace with Miles, snapping: ]

Give me that. You're going to drop it.

[dendarii]

[ Good. Byerly is following. Are they clear of the camp? Negri? He can't tell, his vision is blurring into incomprehension as the buzzing in his head rises to a fever pitch. Maybe it'll look like Byerly knocked him down. Hell, if it's a fight to begin with...

He shoves the lone MRE he'd taken for himself at Byerly. Shoves him too. Contorts his face in a way that looks like anger from a distance, but makes for a gruesome grimace up close. Between clenched teeth, even that one syllable blurred: ]

Help.

[vorrutyer]

[ Byerly might be a fool, but he's not an idiot. He sees that look, and there's a moment of confusion - and then he gets it. Right. Shit. Panic fills his face for just a moment, and then, as Miles starts to fall, he understands - and he balls up his fist and punches him across the face. Hard. For real. There are some soldiers not far away - they'd come over if someone just collapsed, but fights are common enough in these days of short rations that people aren't even bothering to watch them any longer - God willing, they won't look too closely. ]

[dendarii]

[ And for once in his life, Miles is grateful to By for punching him in the face. Good. It'll look like a fight. Not a poor mutant too weak to stand under his own power...

He collapses to the ground, his body following the arc of By's fist. Once there he begins to convulse as blackness mercifully takes him. A few minutes of this; then, gray exhaustion as the trembling dies away to nothing. During which Miles can do absolutely nothing to help himself. It's all up to By to keep the soldiers from noticing. ]

[vorrutyer]

[ By had done so by bending down the moment Miles fell, and locking his hand around his collar, and dragging him bodily through the snow. As he did, he'd called cheerfully back to those soldiers watching - ]

The mutie called me a bastard. I'm gonna teach him.

[ Which made it, of course, a matter of honor, and made it By's right to kick the shit out of the mutie alone if he'd wanted to. The soldiers had understood as only Barrayarans of this time could and had waved him on, and hadn't looked too closely at Miles. Which was a blessing; a close examination would have revealed that the twitching of his limbs was unnatural, instead of just the motion of a body being jerked over the icy, rocky ground. But with them just glancing at him and looking away? The tugging and pulling disguised the seizure.

By had gotten Miles in a space between two tents, the cloth hiding them on three sides, Byerly himself blocking the view from the fourth. He'd stripped off his coat and wrapped the little man in it, tightly, to try to limit the flailing of those limbs, to limit the damage he could do to himself. He kneels awkwardly, now, holding Miles' head in his hands to keep him from smacking his skull against the hard-packed frozen soil. He looks spent. He looks cold. ]

[dendarii]

[ After an agonizing couple of minutes, Miles goes slack. Byerly's reaction and soft restraint keep him from hurting himself, though he will be stiff and sore afterwards. He's very still a little while longer, and the resulting stillness is far from restful, but he's still breathing. Unharmed. Well, no more harmed than he was a few minutes ago. His face continues to ooze blood slowly.

His eyelids flutter. With a soft groan, he stirs underneath Byerly, slowly bringing him back into focus. ]

Byerly?

[ His voice is a guttural, exhausted croak. But at least he's as warm as he's going to get, wrapped up in By's coat like this. Byerly doesn't look to be nearly as lucky. ]

[vorrutyer]

[ Byerly's too miserable to even manage some mockery about people murmuring his name as they come out of slumber, last person was a lot comelier than you, et cetera, et cetera. Instead he just sniffs and withdraws his hands so he can rub at his mouth. ]

If anyone asks, you called me a bastard and implied I was secretly a Betan hermaphrodite, so I punched you and then kicked you while you were unconscious. Hence - [ Byerly gestures to Miles' wounded state. ] It'll probably do wonders for my reputation, truth be told.

[dendarii]

[ Ah. That's for the best. Miles eases his head back, half-closing his eyes again. ]

You're welcome. [ The quip is ruined somewhat by his slurred speech. ] And here I was hoping to play at being a soldier.

[vorrutyer]

What, and getting the snot kicked out of you keeps you from being a soldier? Having been present at many a Vor-based barfight, I don't think that's true at all.

[dendarii]

[ A faint snort. He can't argue with that train of thought, really. Half the soldiers here probably will respect him more as a result. ]

You're the one upset for me coming back bleeding. Almost like you care.

[ Said rather softly as he looks down at the coat he's been wrapped in. Clearly no caring at all here, no. ]

[vorrutyer]

[ Sourly: ]

Shut up, Vorkosigan.

[dendarii]

Ilyan, remember.

[ He gently rests his head back. ]

... Thank you.

[vorrutyer]

Is shut up a difficult phrase for you right now? I know your brain must be quite scrambled, but it's only two words.

[dendarii]

So's "thank you." Why do you hate my gratitude?

[vorrutyer]

[ He purses his lips - but answers, at least, relatively honestly. ]

I don't want it. Or need it. I don't like sentimentality. And you're so...sincere. All the time. It makes my skin itch. And it's not like this is some remarkable feat, is it, keeping you from bashing your brains out.

[dendarii]

Not everyone is clever enough to realize I want them to punch me in the face. Surprisingly enough.

[vorrutyer]

Then they must be dull sticks indeed. I hear nothing else but that request when you speak.

[dendarii]

I've picked the right man to pick fights with, then.

[vorrutyer]

[ Byerly lets out a sigh, rubbing at his eyes. After a moment - ]

Hand over my coat again, won't you? This frostbite is doing my complexion no favors at all.

[dendarii]

[ Slowly, achingly, Miles up. And nearly regrets doing so. Between his fresh injuries and the seizure, he aches badly.

But he still carefully shrugs back out of Byerly's coat. ]

The coat was a nice touch.

[vorrutyer]

[ He purses his lips sourly, but admits: ]

The rumor has always been that you have fragile bones. Like a bird. Who knows if that's true, but I didn't want you to shatter your elbows or some such thing.

[dendarii]

[ He grimaces a bit. ]

That used to be quite true.