General Count Piotr Pierre Vorkosigan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
oldvor) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
forbarrayar2017-02-12 12:31 pm
oldvor) wrote in forbarrayar2017-02-12 12:31 pm
Entry tags:
[ feb i: old world underground, where are you now? ]
Who: Piotr Vorkosigan and Negri
What: Negri finally gives Piotr his report.
When: the evening of February 16th
Where: the war tent
Warnings: N/A
The war tent is bitingly cold with only Piotr in it and the braziers burning down, but he's bent over the table long after the rest of his general staff has already retired for the day. Keeping his mind occupied does, at least, distract from the cold and the hunger while he tirelessly tries to find a way to solve this crisis without losing any tactical ground. The intel they'd gotten on that power supply scouting mission had been good even if the mission itself hadn't been, but how long will it be viable? Piotr rubs his jaw with gloved hands, both numb, and exhales hard. The steam quickly fades.
"If you're going to just stand there all night," Piotr growls without looking up from the table, "then come in already."
The tent flap, secured against the wind, rustles. A small hand slips in through the gap to open it from the inside and Negri steps in, face chapped from the cold. He resecures the tent flat immediately, shivering slightly, but remarkably contained.
Piotr pulls away from the table and pivots on his stool to face Negri, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He looks cold, tired, and not in an especially patient mood. His lips thin.
"Alright, that's quite enough," Piotr says sternly. "I know Ezar sent you."
Negri doesn't say anything in response, just looks at Piotr, neither cowed nor defiant. After a moment, he tilts his head in concession. Piotr blows out his breath, looking annoyed. "You should have come to me right away."
"He told me not to say anything until you figured it out, sir."
Piotr's expression flattens. "Is he testing me?"
Negri just tilts his head to the side. Piotr lets out an unpleasant sound. "What the hell is he thinking? This isn't one of his stupid games with the Princess. What if I hadn't figured it out?"
"He didn't think that was going to be a problem, sir. He was sure you would." Negri pauses. "He thought it would be sooner."
Piotr grimaces. His aide-de-camp has a rather esoteric, and at times irritating, sense of humor. He eyes Negri carefully, gaze sharpening.
"Where did he send you from? He's supposed to be in Vorbarr Sultana right now."
Nothing but a silent nod. Piotr's eyes narrow.
"You traveled here all the way from Vorbarr Sultana?"
A nod.
"On your own?"
Another nod.
"What aid did he provide you with?"
Negri pulls a small purse out of his coat pocket and shakes it gently, rattling coins. There are only a few Imperial marks in there by the sound of it, but Piotr doubts there had been much more to begin with. He closes his eyes, draws in a breath, and counts to five.
"What did he send you here for?" Surely Ezar wouldn't have paid a child to wander halfway across the continent just to see if he could make it. No, Ezar tends to have much more practical aims in mind, however obscure his methods. Piotr knows he's right when Negri straightens up slightly, the way any spy would when preparing to deliver a message. It looks strange on a young boy.
"Prince Xav made it to Vorbarr Sultana with relief supplies from Beta Colony, sir," Negri reports dutifully. "About three months ago. Captain Vorbarra said he would be returning to Vorkosigan's District with Prince Xav and some relief. They should arrive in…" He has to stop to do the mental math. "Two weeks' time."
Piotr, no regard for present company, swears out loud. "It sounds like Captain Vorbarra and I are going to have a word upon his return," he grinds out, biting down on a snarl. Would that Ezar were here right now. But he's not, and this boy is. Piotr looks down at Negri, jaw tight, considering.
"You are aware that I am Captain Vorbarra's commanding officer?"
Negri nods.
"Good. Then when you're in my camp, you report to me. Whatever spying you've been doing for Ezar, you do for me now as well. Is that understood?"
Negri nods again. Piotr's mouth presses into a thin line. Word that relief is coming is, indeed, a massive relief, but that he hadn't heard it sooner all because of Ezar's coy horseshit is profoundly irritating just now.
"Good," Piotr says again, brusquely, and leans forward. "Then I want a full report on everything you know so far."
What: Negri finally gives Piotr his report.
When: the evening of February 16th
Where: the war tent
Warnings: N/A
The war tent is bitingly cold with only Piotr in it and the braziers burning down, but he's bent over the table long after the rest of his general staff has already retired for the day. Keeping his mind occupied does, at least, distract from the cold and the hunger while he tirelessly tries to find a way to solve this crisis without losing any tactical ground. The intel they'd gotten on that power supply scouting mission had been good even if the mission itself hadn't been, but how long will it be viable? Piotr rubs his jaw with gloved hands, both numb, and exhales hard. The steam quickly fades.
"If you're going to just stand there all night," Piotr growls without looking up from the table, "then come in already."
The tent flap, secured against the wind, rustles. A small hand slips in through the gap to open it from the inside and Negri steps in, face chapped from the cold. He resecures the tent flat immediately, shivering slightly, but remarkably contained.
Piotr pulls away from the table and pivots on his stool to face Negri, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He looks cold, tired, and not in an especially patient mood. His lips thin.
"Alright, that's quite enough," Piotr says sternly. "I know Ezar sent you."
Negri doesn't say anything in response, just looks at Piotr, neither cowed nor defiant. After a moment, he tilts his head in concession. Piotr blows out his breath, looking annoyed. "You should have come to me right away."
"He told me not to say anything until you figured it out, sir."
Piotr's expression flattens. "Is he testing me?"
Negri just tilts his head to the side. Piotr lets out an unpleasant sound. "What the hell is he thinking? This isn't one of his stupid games with the Princess. What if I hadn't figured it out?"
"He didn't think that was going to be a problem, sir. He was sure you would." Negri pauses. "He thought it would be sooner."
Piotr grimaces. His aide-de-camp has a rather esoteric, and at times irritating, sense of humor. He eyes Negri carefully, gaze sharpening.
"Where did he send you from? He's supposed to be in Vorbarr Sultana right now."
Nothing but a silent nod. Piotr's eyes narrow.
"You traveled here all the way from Vorbarr Sultana?"
A nod.
"On your own?"
Another nod.
"What aid did he provide you with?"
Negri pulls a small purse out of his coat pocket and shakes it gently, rattling coins. There are only a few Imperial marks in there by the sound of it, but Piotr doubts there had been much more to begin with. He closes his eyes, draws in a breath, and counts to five.
"What did he send you here for?" Surely Ezar wouldn't have paid a child to wander halfway across the continent just to see if he could make it. No, Ezar tends to have much more practical aims in mind, however obscure his methods. Piotr knows he's right when Negri straightens up slightly, the way any spy would when preparing to deliver a message. It looks strange on a young boy.
"Prince Xav made it to Vorbarr Sultana with relief supplies from Beta Colony, sir," Negri reports dutifully. "About three months ago. Captain Vorbarra said he would be returning to Vorkosigan's District with Prince Xav and some relief. They should arrive in…" He has to stop to do the mental math. "Two weeks' time."
Piotr, no regard for present company, swears out loud. "It sounds like Captain Vorbarra and I are going to have a word upon his return," he grinds out, biting down on a snarl. Would that Ezar were here right now. But he's not, and this boy is. Piotr looks down at Negri, jaw tight, considering.
"You are aware that I am Captain Vorbarra's commanding officer?"
Negri nods.
"Good. Then when you're in my camp, you report to me. Whatever spying you've been doing for Ezar, you do for me now as well. Is that understood?"
Negri nods again. Piotr's mouth presses into a thin line. Word that relief is coming is, indeed, a massive relief, but that he hadn't heard it sooner all because of Ezar's coy horseshit is profoundly irritating just now.
"Good," Piotr says again, brusquely, and leans forward. "Then I want a full report on everything you know so far."