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

[ Wash is still getting used to the Barrayar camp but he's become accustomed to having some company around on restless nights, a Barrayan soldier on guard duty at night coming to check the tent, another maybe coming by to sit in the warmth of the fire for a while. This one's different, though, just because he's sure he's seen him around the Outsider's tent sometimes in the day -- and because he brings a bottle, the same kind he's seen soldiers occasionally carry around camp. Maple mead, he remembers someone saying.

There's a practiced quality to the way the man drinks from the bottle and offers it to him, and Wash is sure that this is probably something that he's expected to accept. But, well, Wash doesn't drink. He never really has, not that he hasn't tried it or thinks poorly of people who do, he just doesn't like it, hates the thought of being at all inebriated and not having his wits about him, about something that makes him more careless and prone to slips of the tongue. He's far too careful and far too cautious, has spent too much of his life needing to make absolutely sure that everything he knows will stay a secret, and he's only ever drank in very exact circumstances. Being in a military camp on an alien world in the middle of some civil war in the dead of winter isn't one of them.

He -- tries to be polite and friendly about it, lifting a hand to indicate he doesn't want it with a slight shake of his head, tipping his chin towards him. ]

All yours. [ He's good. Hopefully refusing a drink wasn't seen as some incredible slight in this culture or something. Back home, it just mean that he wasn't a whole lot of fun, as other people defined it. ]

Oh?

[ By turns a curious glance on the man beside him. ]

It's not poison, you know. That's why I drank first. To prove it. [ A little half-laugh. ] Old Barrayaran custom, that.

[ It's an assurance, but not exactly a guarantee it isn't poison.

He doesn't say that, though, just kind of shakes his head again with a slight smile, lifting one shoulder in a half-shrug. ]

Just not much of a drinker. [ AT ALL. ]

A soldier who doesn't drink. That's a first.

[ Well, more for him. He toasts Washington, then takes a swig. ]

I assume you're a soldier, in any case. You quite look the part.

So I've been told.

[ That he looks like a soldier. Wash's never really thought about it, really -- of course he looks like one, he's been one all his life. He watches the man next to him drink, regarding him carefully. He doesn't seem that much like a soldier, not in the same way. ]

Are you from around here, then? [ Curious, since he's seen him around the tent, he's sure, but he did mention Barrayan customs. ]

So I am.

[ Byerly points in...well, in a random direction. He hasn't the faintest which direction is northwest from here. But what he lacks in truth, he makes up for with conviction. ]

From that-a-ways. Vorrutyer's District. Byerly Vorrutyer, at your humble service.

[ The conviction is convincing. ]

Byerly Vorrutyer. [ The kind of name is completely unfamiliar to him, and that might be obvious in the way he mimics it, just to be sure he has it right. ] The name's Washington.

What're you doing out here, then, if you've got your own district somewhere? [ Only half-seriously, with a tip of his head in Byerly's random direction. It's probably not actually your district. Probably? But he's interested in learning in learning from anyone who's more familiar with this place than he is. ]

My own District? Oh, heavens, no, I haven't got my own district. [ He laughs. ] My father was the youngest son, so he'd have had to knock off all his older brothers if he wanted a parcel of land, and even if he had the old prick disinherited me about - oh - twenty years back, now. No, no, I've no lands of my own. All I have to offer is my planetary pride - [ He raises the bottle. ] And my good fighting courage.

[ He takes a swig. ]

Plus I'm an outsider. Just like you. After a sort.

[ Byerly's certainly a talker.

Vorrutyer's a family name, then, and apparently Barrayar's a place where that matters. Fair enough that he has no holdings of his own, but it doesn't explain why he's here rather than there. Unless he wants to fight, he supposes, wants to do his part -- Wash can understand that. ]

You don't seem like that much of an outsider to me if you're from around here, other than the fact that you're stuck in the same tent as the rest of us. [ Not a direct question, just a prompt, curious. Wash doesn't usually like to pry too much, respects people's privacy, but Byerly seems perfectly willing to talk. ]

Curious thing, isn't it?

[ That's all he offers. Instead of elaboration, he just turns a wry, teasing smile on Wash and says: ]

Do tell me about yourself, dear man. Where are you from? What are your great loves and great hates?

[ Not quite so forthcoming anymore, then. Fair enough. He'll take note of that. ]

Not this -- Nexus. [ It's clear that word is unfamiliar to him, too. He'd learned it from Duv. ] The planet I was from before ending up here was called Chorus. Not the nicest of places.

[ He wouldn't say that's where he was from, but well, close enough. ]

It's a pretty enough name.

[ A slug from the bottle. Or, well. A pretend-slug. If anyone were to watch Byerly for a very long time, they'd notice that he tends to drink from the same bottle of maple mead for an entire day. But no one watches him too closely. ]

What didn't you like about it?

The part where it was battleground for a civil war.

[ A shrug. Wash is watching him fairly closely out of the corner of his eye, but he certainly isn't thinking much about him drinking -- he's seen plenty of soldiers around camp empty bottles and bottles of that stuff on their own. ]

Nice enough place otherwise, for some backwater outer colony. It wasn't any better than here in terms of the whole war thing, but it wasn't in the middle of winter.

Hm. So are you a child of war, then? Grown up amongst conflict?

I wasn't born there, but there was a different war where I grew up.

[ The Great War, even. The one that threatened all of humanity. ]

It didn't really reach us until I enlisted, anyway. [ And the colony he grew up in was completely destroyed. Turning to look back at Byerly -- they've both exchanged a bit of information, now. Fair's fair. ] What about you?

[ Is Barrayar another one of those planets that's plagued with war all the time? He wouldn't be surprised. ]

Me?

[ He gives a small smile, rolls the bottle between his hands. It makes satisfying sloshing sounds. ]

Yes. Hm. Well. I was born shortly before the outbreak of a civil war myself. Short one, though, all things considered. [ Ended prematurely when the ferocious Countess Vorkosigan decided that the Pretender was a head too tall. What a woman. ] And I've lost a good percentage of my family to assassins. All that said, Barrayar was the most peaceful it had ever been when I was growing up.

[ So, the answer to that is a definite yes. ]

Which is why I don't have the handsome soldierly build like you do. Certainly not the life I expected to lead.

[ He certainly doesn't look like a soldier, not in the way that Wash would expect, but he does seem pretty at home here. Comfortable, at least. Maybe it's all that mead.

A civil war, Byerly says -- a short one, and Wash gathers from the rest of the answer that war on Barrayar is a common occurrence, and it doesn't sound like it was always against the Cetagandans. Interesting, and. Unsurprising, from what he's seen of the planet. ]

I don't envy a life spent dodging assassins -- people on a battlefield are easier. [ For the most part. ] Seems like you've been pretty good at that, though.

[ Still alive, after all. ]

Oh - oh, no.

[ He gives a small laugh and toasts Washington. A thank you, thank you, you flatter me sort of toast. ]

Don't misunderstand. I'd never have an assassin after me. You'll never meet a less politically relevant soul. The only way I'd ever end up killed would be if an assassin tried to blow up a family reunion, except not even then, because I do not get invited to family reunions. Unless you are referring to the battlefield? Because I also strenuously avoid the battlefield. I am here as a hanger-on, and no more than that. Hiding out from the painted monsters.

[ He holds his fingers up to his face in a crosshatch pattern, indicating the ghem face-paint with which Washington is no doubt familiar by now. ]

I shall have to hide behind you, now. I expect they'll be hungrier to murder a defector than some Vor.

[ Definitely the talkative sort. And definitely interesting. Here as a hanger-on, though he hadn't seemed particularly keen to talk about why he was an outsider like the rest of them, not just someone from a somewhere that-a-ways who'd decided to come here for whatever reason. Hiding out from Cetagandans, apparently. They really must be everywhere.

Some Vor, too. Whatever that means. ]

They're probably not too happy with me, no. And the feeling's mutual.

[ Sure, Wash doesn't want to really take any sides in the war, but everything about the Cetagandans had made his skin crawl. He might've stayed there longer, if just for access for to their technology, if just for more information, but then there'd been Maine, and well. Doing anything but getting here as soon as possible hadn't been an option. ]

Oh?

[ Byerly sits back, his face openly interested. He, of course, has only a Barrayaran's perspective on Cetaganda, and hatred for Cetaganda is part of Barrayaran DNA. He's curious to get an unvarnished outsider's perspective on why to loathe their old enemies. ]

And why is that?

[ A lot of Wash's instinctive dislike for the Cetagandans is wrapped up in things he'd really rather not talk about. He's had enough of military scientists for a lifetime, and there's something that just rubs him wrong about a military base that spends so much of its time on things like elaborate social functions and fashion.

Research programs, classified labs. Too many questions about the neural implants, York telling them more than he'd like and Wash just hating that they knew more about him than he wanted. Plenty of reasons he was uncomfortable. He doesn't hate them, no, wouldn't even really consider them an enemy, but he's glad to be out of there. ]

They just rubbed me the wrong way. I've been a soldier most of my life, and never in a military quite like that. [ Well, of sorts, there's certainly been similarities to what he's used to, but. ] I'm glad to be out of there.

That's not much of an answer.

[ By grins teasingly. ]

If only I could get you drinking this...That'd make you a bit less shy, wouldn't it?

[ That the kind of thing this is. Wash looks back at him for a moment, clearly actually studying him, this time, before offering him just another shrug of the shoulder, maybe a slight smile. ]

It might. [ Good thing he doesn't drink, eh. If you're just fishing, you're better off elsewhere. ]

Hm.

[ Byerly smiles a bit wider in return. ]

But you don't drink. Alas. So...What else might make you less shy?

Not all that much.

[ A shrug. And yet, a moment later; ]

I didn't like the Cetagandans because they're a military that doesn't act like a military. [ Simple enough. It's been a while since he's had to deal with someone like Byerly, but as far as someone who likes to specifically look for information is concerned, why don't you like the Cetagandans isn't too hard to answer, even if there are some reasons he still won't go into detail about. ] Or are you just asking after why I came over here?

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