forbarrayar | [ february ii log ]

Entry tags:

[ february ii log ]

Who: Everyone
What: Traitors exposed, celebrations had, sleight hands passing cards under the table. And so begin the preparations for what is soon to come.
When: February 18th - 28th
Where: Barrayaran camp / Cetagandan base
Warnings: Torture (interrogations thread)

Quick links:
Riverfall
Barrayar: Barrayaran camp / Party / Missions
Cetaganda: Cetagandan base / Moon-poetry party / Missions

The harsh weather rages on, which temperatures still averaging far below freezing, and the wind is still strong. But things are a little less dire for the outsiders, and for the exotics -- well, they have their own chills to deal with.

riverfall
Riverfall village is your typical Dendarii mountain village, which means it's small, humble, and mostly poor. This is the most rural of the rural around here, a little backwater even by Barrayaran standards. Most of the villagers live in houses of wood and stone built themselves or by ancestors. Despite the cold, there are plenty of people outside at any given time -- working, mostly, because the daily grind stops for no one, but even the occasional group of children taken over by fits of cabin fever. The village is built up against a rocky mountain face, from the top of which the eponymous waterfall flows into the river that borders the west edge of the village and continues down the mountain. The place isn't exactly hidden, but if you don't know your way around, it'd be hard to find without a native guide.

The villagers are wary of the outsiders at first, even more than the soldiers had been -- the rural Dendarii are as superstitious as they come -- but, slowly convinced of their good intentions, start to warm to them. They're a blunt, hardy people, largely uneducated and tending toward the most extreme of Barrayaran sensibilities, but they are undeniably fierce. The General Count trusts them, so they'll be more or less civil (by Barrayaran standards, anyway), but you might catch the occasional scrutinizing, watchful stare. With Cetagandans in camp and exotics among them, they border on hostile, especially those who are visibly nonhuman. They keep their heads down enough to keep from getting into trouble with the soldiers, but they do not like you at all.

Not everyone in Riverfall speaks English -- Russian is everyone's first language, and only about half the village has any passable command of English. Thankfully, the village's Speaker Yakiv Gura speaks English, if heavily accented. They're clearly stretching to the limit to help the camp, but to the Dendarii, there's no higher act than one in the Count's service, especially when it comes to fighting this war.

barrayar
Even after scoring themselves a little extra food, morale in the camp is at an all-time low. The miserably dangerous weather hasn't let up, food is still heavily rationed, and everyone is still at least a little tired, cold, and hungry all of the time. It doesn't help that they've lost a few soldiers in the last couple of weeks, and in Riverfall, too, some villagers have died of the cold despite their relative warmth and safety, mostly children. This is hardly the first harsh winter they've faced, but that doesn't stop the inexorable loss that comes with it. Some villagers may be somberly putting their loved ones to rest in the village graveyard when the outsiders are in town.

But Piotr finally calls Negri out as a spy sent by his aide-de-camp Captain Ezar Vorbarra, partly to deliver a message and partly to test Piotr, because Ezar loves coy bullshit. However, he does learn that both Ezar and Prince Xav Vorbarra, Olivia and Sonia's father, are en route to Vorkosigan's District with relief supplies from Beta Colony secured by Xav's ambassadorial connections and tireless lobbying. Once Piotr judges it safe to release this information, it bring with it a bit of hope -- and to seal the deal, Piotr and Olivia arrange a celebration of sorts in the village.

Finally outing the ring of reason in the camp helps to bolster morale, too. Vorhalas is interrogated, and the names of his co-conspirators are revealed: Lieutenant Boris Vortala, who killed himself in disgrace shortly after his fast-penta interrogation at ghem-General Zefyst's hand, and their commander Captain Aaron Vorbataille. Vorbataille has, of course, already started to make his escape -- but with the help out of the outsiders, he won't get very far. Once Piotr is satisfied with Vorbataille's interrogation as well, both men are put to execution, but not by beheading as Doctor ghem-Miko: the sentence for treason is death by public starvation and exposure, and in this weather, it doesn't take long. They are publicly and emphatically denounced as traitors with no honor to speak of, sending a very clear message. Although this might seem like a gruesome sight to the outsiders, to the Barrayarans this is simply how it goes, and very few of them are sorry to see these traitors suffer, particularly as Vorhalas was the one responsible for their food shortage in the first place.

Reports from those soldiers and outsiders who were in the village at the same time as the Cetagandan field science team present the General Count with another troubling problem, however: the implications of the Cetagandans building a device that could control this phenomenon are terrifying, particularly to this threadbare resistance movement. But sabotage seems hardly a worthy solution, either. This is the only lead they have on sending the outsiders home, and so many of them have already put their lives on the line for the cause of a planet that otherwise nothing to most of them. There would be no honor in robbing them of their only chance to return home. But whether they should continue to allow the Cetagandans to proceed with their research or try to find a way to copy their plans themselves, a dubiously possible venture at best, weighs heavily on his mind. It only complicates his strategic concerns further, but by his military orders in the next couple of weeks, at least one thing is clear: he wants Cetagandan bodies.

camp
Morale is critically low among the soldiers, particularly after a few casualties during a recent skirmish with a Cetagandan patrol, but spirits definitely begin to lift with news of relief. The soldiers are now more or less accustomed to the outsiders' place in the camp, and they're even starting to become a little friendlier toward them, particularly those who've been involved in the war effort. They might invite outsiders to play card or dice games with them, or share a conversation over an admittedly meager meal, or better still, bond with them in the true Barrarayan form: over a lot of alcohol.

Negri has more or less built himself a niche in the camp, and doesn't look like he's going anywhere any time soon. But he isn't the only spy around. They desperately need a man on the inside, particularly with the troubling news about the wormhole device, and right now, that man is Byerly Vorrutyer. Starting next month, Piotr is sending him on assignment to infiltrate the Cetagandan base under the cover of a cowardly collaborator.

party
By the time they have the party on the 21st, the villagers have warmed up to the outsiders a little, but they don't really bond until the party. With what little they have to share, they scrape together as much of a feast as they can: not much, but by this month's standards, any hot meal prepared with fresh ingredients seems absolutely decadent. And because this is Barrayar there is, of course, plenty of liquor, that Barrayaran moonshine maple mead not the least among them, and there's no shortage of wine or vodka, either.

The hillfolk light lanterns all around the village and raise large tarps to cover the open center of the village where they usually hold gatherings. Inside, protected from the wind and lit by the bonfire and braziers placed around the perimeter, it's actually almost warm. Every villager who's ever laid hand to an instrument seems to gather there to play music all night long, an energetic mix of lively folk music and raucous drinking songs. Anyone with any musical talent would be welcome to join them as well. There's plenty of dancing, too, very little of it formal or complicated, but everyone's having a good time for the first time in weeks, maybe months, and the mood is infectious. By the end of the night, morale seems to have risen overall, and people in camp have something real to look forward to. The partygoing visitors are put up in warmed tents within the tarped village center or in the villagers' homes where they have room. Come morning, they'll head back, but for just one night, it's almost like there isn't even a war on.

missions
Outsiders have been assisting with moving supplies between the camp and Riverfall all throught he rest of the month, and it mostly goes smoothly. Vorbataille is caught on the 20th, although he and Vorhalas aren't publicly executed until a few days later, when Piotr is satisfied with the intelligence he's extracted. By the time he gets Vorbataille's name out of Vorhalas, the traitorous Captain has already fled -- but thanks to Carolina, Duv and Zarya, he's dragged back to camp for his interrogation.

That evening, Maine and William have the misfortune of encountering a dragon -- Darkstalker is on a mission with a Cetagandan patrol, and they run right smack into each other. A fight breaks out, but ultimately Darkstalker and the Cetagandans come out on top, and the outsiders and Barrayarans are forced to retreat -- but not before managing to kill a Cetagandan soldier or two, just barely escaping with one of the bodies.

Miles finds himself in a terrible position when a guard patrol shift goes horribly wrong in a skirmish against some Cetagandans, resulting in the death of their squad leader and a very ugly aftermath.

Zarya, William, Beth and Miles are in Riverfall with some Barrayaran soldiers on a supply run when a Cetagandan field science team arrives with a few exotics in tow. This is a rare chance to learn more about the Cetagandans' scientific exploits, and among other things, they find out that whatever it is that brought them here, the Cetagandan scientists are convincede it has something to do with the wormhole that collapsed 700 years ago.

The unabridged mission writeup is here.

cetaganda
The Cetagandans are a notoriously tight-lipped bunch, but they're blowing away most of the smoke surrounding their wormhole science research. As has been alluded, they're currently working on a device to harness the phenomenon that brought all the exotics here in the first place, and hopefully find a way to send them all home with it. They invite any exotics with scientific expertise to a series of interviews about neurology, astrophysics, and mechanical engineering. None of the advisement they receive helps to solve one of their most critical problems -- that of generating a Necklin field to match the one that must have surrounded each exotic -- but it certainly puts them closer to their goal, particularly in the area of neurology, and they're hardly going to stop there. But it's clear that the mathematicians and astrophysicists on base don't have sufficient expertise to solve the most complex equations before them. But on the brighter side of things, in the interest of this scientific exchange, they're letting the lab techs help a little more beyond just grunt work.

Meanwhile, the genetics project that seems so strange and arcane to the exotic carries on, largely behind the scenes, although Diya is increasingly at odds with her husband and even some of her senior staff, particularly the precocious Amai ghem-Soren. But there is very real purpose behind it -- and far more than just one -- and Diya d'Zefyst is a woman of great ambition. And more than anything else, she is haut.

Unfortunately, the relative peace on base is abruptly broken when Daryl, Lakshmi and Wash all manage to escape in a wild breakout attempt on the 25th. York and Ratchet are left behind, and as a result, some of their privileges revoked. They're now being watched a little more closely as a result.

base
Overall, despite simmering tensions under the surface and the miserable weather, life on base seems to be going more or less smoothly around them. The Cetagandans have had some recent victories against the Barrayarans, so morale is high. Unfortunately, after the breakout they begin cracking down on security with the exotics -- going back to treating the exotics a little more like they did when they first arrived. They aren't under guard, but after the 25th, they are being watched.

They still maintain that insistent veneer of civility, however, breaking only in cases where they feel the need or security risk is significant enough. The ghem on base remain overall cordial and courteous to the exotics as they ever were, which is to say considerably and always with a touch of smug superiority. With her success at the party earlier this month followed by her performance in the moon-poetry garden, the often-sequestered Amai ghem-Soren is seen more around the base.

moon-poetry party
The moon-poetry party is about three hours long and steeped in ceremony, each participant taking their turn to recite. This is, apparently, not a recitation of one's own work, but rather selections of classical Cetagandan poems, and in so referencing something culturally ubiquitous, each makes a statement in its mere selection and juxtapositions. If you pay close enough attention, you might notice that each participant has very subtly coordinated their outfits to further complement the theme of their recitation. Although there is a definite dignity to the party, it doesn't take much to pick up on the fact that this is yet another arena ghem use to try and socially one-up one another. Among the participants are both the Chief Medical Officer Colonel Faro ghem-Naru and Doctor Amai ghem-Soren, whose performance was especially well-received, the theme apparently being something about subtle passions.

missions
The science interviews with the exotics go more or less well, although not quite so hopeful as the Cetagandans were hoping. They do, however, learn some things about FTL travel in other worlds as well as other kinds of neural implants.

On the evening of the 21st, York, Natasha and Kaidan accidentally bear witness to what is clearly some kind of travesty: clearly a human being, but both overgrown and underdeveloped, and exhibiting powers of hydrokinesis and psychic empathy, referred to only as a ba.

On the 23rd, Jasper, Lapis, Pearl and Darkstalker accompany some soldiers and a field science team to Riverfall village, coinciding with a visit from some outsiders and soldiers. They encounter some outsiders while there but also pick up a bit on what it is the Cetagandans are doing -- that the Necklin field problem still remains their biggest problem, and they've been getting conflicting orders from the higher ups lately.

The unabridged mission writeup is here.

Note: Negri and Zahal are available for threads by request only this round. Please hit up Madi or Ammay respectively if you want threads with either of those NPCs. You can also request a thread with Village Speaker Yakiv Gura if you want, in which case hit up Madi.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"We?" That's something he didn't expect. "Are there more you recognize here?"

As far as Duv knows, there aren't many here who share the same place of origin. Miles and Byerly are from this planet, but a different time, and he's from the same Nexus as the pair of Vor. All three of them come from different points than the other though nowhere near this time. What he wouldn't give for a light pen and a flimsy to keep track of this all.

Daryl shakes his head, a rueful expression twisted up on his face. "Nah," he says after a moment's hesitation. He sticks his hands in his pockets, frowning still.

But then, he's got a better question. "You been on your own all this time?" Or has he been rotting in some cell somewhere? Considering how things went with the Cetagandans, Daryl thinks it's high time he got his head out of his ass and prepared for the worst.

"Here? No, a friend of mine was already at this camp." A term he uses lightly. He and Miles had parted on fairly good terms last he saw the man and he's as close to a friend as Duv has here. Byerly Vorrutyer is someone Miles claims to trust, but Duv's opinion on the man is still out after Vorrutyer's involvement with his torture.

"His name is Miles Illyan, he's the shortest here and hard to miss."

Daryl's face falls into something approaching blandness. It's a feint to hide the deeper feeling of confusion. Nothing makes sense on this goddamn planet.

"You mean the prick who kidnapped you?"

No, nothing makes sense here. Duv would readily agree with that.

"I wasn't kidnapped," he answers with a small sigh. "Matters are... complicated given our relation to the events happening here. I knew my odds here would be poor, but it was preferable to remaining with the Cetagandans."

Daryl knows what that kind of 'complicated' means. I trust you, but not that much. Well, fair's fair, there's shit Daryl's holding back on, too. He nods.

"You were willing to risk bein'-" Well. If Duv wants to keep using the euphemism, he'll play along. "Interrogated?"

It's a gamble that Duv seems to have lost, and yet, watching him carefully, Daryl waits to find the signs of regret. So far all he's seen is the kind of world-weariness that comes from inevitability bad situations, but not regret.

Maybe Daryl's reading him wrong. Wouldn't be the first time.

Weary and this is the sort of luck he expects for himself. Everything he's earned on this damn planet has been through bitter resilience and being thrown in the past hasn't changed anything.

"Yes," he answers flatly. "I wouldn't recommend taking the risk yourself. They're eager for anything that will ensure their planet's sovereignty."

And somehow, it still hadn't beaten out his last run-in with torture and fast-penta.

Too late, Daryl wants to say, but knows goddamn better. He trusts Duv well enough, but the man's a prime candidate for another round of interrogation. The less he knows, the fucking better, for his sake, for all their sakes.

Instead, Daryl just nods. "Nobody left who ain't." All the kind, gentle people willing to live and let live are dead. That feeling, Daryl is more than used to. More importantly: "Don't let nobody push you around. On these assholes' side," for now. Maybe. Whatever. "But they're still assholes."

The advice causes Duv to shake his head. If there's one thing he knows, it's when to push back.

"They'd thank you for thinking of them as such." If there was one thing Barrayarans relied on, it was their reputation. "I don't plan to let them, you don't need to worry about me."

"I look worried?" Daryl prefers to think he doesn't look much of anything, especially lately. "Think I look hungry. You wanna help set up these traps or what?"

Daryl turns away, going back to the bit of twine and branch he was fiddling with. It's an excellent, and incredibly subtle, change of subject. You're welcome, Duv.

Something tells Duv that Daryl will fit right in with the Barrayarans if this is how he handles conversations that veer too close to emotions. If he wants to change the subject that suits Duv fine though he can't help but stare at the make-shift traps in confusion.

"You're hunting?" Daryl will have to excuse him, most of Duv's life has been lived as a vegetarian eating vat meat. The food in camp was something of an adjustment and the concept of 'hunting' has been a disaster for him given how terribly his one and only attempt at it so far has gone.

"If I was huntin', you wouldn't'a snuck up on me." If he was hunting, he'd probably be in a goddamn tree, looking for the elusive deer this planet might not even fucking have. This entire camp is gonna get sick of rabbit and tree rat real goddamn soon, but it's still better than horse. "This here's trapping. Grave's snare."

They've gotta have snares on this planet, right? What do the people who aren't at war eat?

"A snare?" He stares at the makeshift device as if it were an alien artifact. It might as well be for him. He reaches for it to examine carefully of Daryl will let him.

"I'm afraid I haven't gathered my own food before. We don't eat meat on Komarr." Or anywhere else in the known Nexus. Another point Barrayar was strange on.

Which as Daryl looking at Duv like he were an alien artifact. "Shit," he says with something like humor. "Thought all the vegetarians were dead by now."

"Ha ha," he says flatly. He's fairly certain the Barrayarans think the same way presently. It won't be until Miles' adulthood that things really shift in the urban areas. "We grow our meat in vats. It's easier than hunting and trapping it."

Daryl looks over his shoulder at Duv like he's just sprouted a second head. Only then does he realize Duv is being entirely serious. He looks back at the trap. "Think I'll stick to animals, thanks."

"You don't have much of a choice and neither do I," he grumbles lightly. Food is food particularly in these conditions, but it doesn't mean he has to be pleased about it.

Daryl studies the trap. "Cut it up small. You'll never notice the difference." He's picturing 'vat meat' as though it were giant chunks of steaming tofu. The idea is enough to give him pause, and this is a man who has eaten live worms to survive.

"I don't think its a taste that can be masked." At least, not any way he's found with the rations they've had since he's been allowed food. It's the least of his problems here. "Are you going to be able to catch anything in this weather?"

Daryl considers Duv with a skeptical expression, before understanding kindles in him. If you're used to meat from vats, of course you don't know how real animals work. He snorts. "Shit, yeah. Just gotta be smart about it." He taps the trap with one finger. "Food's scarce. They'll be comin' round the camp for scraps."

It doesn't help that the domed cities of Komarr have no wildlife to speak of. Any animals kept are carefully curated or domesticated pets. Duv's time on other planets has been very much urban, including his previous time spent on Barrayar.

"I thought the noise would scare them off," he says with a frown.

"Not at night," Daryl says. "'S when most of 'em're out anyway."

The rabbits are smart enough to hang back, and that's when the owls that must pick them off come around. There sure aren't any wolves in this place, that's for sure.

"How far away from camp are you placing these?" He studies the trap once more before glancing around. "I can help."

If he can't hunt traditionally, maybe he could make himself useful by assisting Daryl. The man seemed to know what he was doing when it came to finding food.

"All 'round," Daryl says with a shrug. It's something he's done since before he can remember. Well, that's not true-- he remembers getting his hand stuck in one when he was sick and Merle laughing his ass off, but it's the general idea...

Shit, though. "If you want," he says. "Gotta be careful. Cut you up pretty good if you ain't." The traps are, after all, made to kill small animals.

"I want to learn," he says eagerly. "My current skill set isn't as useful here as I'd like."

There was no Imperial Security or need for academics. He couldn't blab to all those around about his studies of the period without setting off red flags. This at least was something tangible he could learn.

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