For Barrayar mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
barrayarmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
forbarrayar2017-02-18 03:21 pm
barrayarmods) wrote in forbarrayar2017-02-18 03:21 pm
Entry tags:
- !event,
- #barrayaran camp,
- #cetagandan base,
- #riverfall village,
- *amai ghem-soren,
- *diya d'zefyst,
- *gail ghem-estif,
- *olivia vorkosigan,
- *piotr vorkosigan,
- *sonia vorbarra,
- agent washington | protocol,
- daryl dixon | pigsfeet,
- kaidan alenko | standsentinel,
- lakshmi bai | shri,
- lapis lazuli | mirrortide,
- lavernius tucker | lovernotafighter
[ 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.
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)
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.
y e s
Just when he thought he was done with that crap, and here it was again.]
Way to be totally fucking vague, dude. [Tucker looked at the chair, rolled his eyes and sat on the edge of the cot instead, next to him. ] Like, specifics. What was the last thing you were doing on Chorus?
[Because Carolina had been on it, too, just earlier. And Tucker was from later, so...so. There were still things he hadn't told her, the stuff about the ship and Epsilon and-- well, if Wash wasn't from them, then maybe...
Whatever. Palms found the cot behind him, and he leaned back, stretching out because fuck, fuck it was good to be here, good to finally see him, good that there was someone else that had a familiar face. Something flickered over Tucker's eyes as he looked at him, though, a moment of guilt that came and went as he chose that second to look up at the tent's ceiling instead.]
So, you know, what the fuck was up with the Meta bringing you back like that? [His fingers tightened a little, digging into the things underneath. Not Maine. Not when he was carting back unconscious bodies. Nope.]
Dude, I totally should have been there.
[I'm fucking sorry. You're my teammate, too., and I didn't go. Fuck, I didn't go.]
no subject
[ They'd done it. Of course they'd done it. he knew they could. And he doesn't understand how this works, what's happening back there when he and Carolina are here, when Tucker is here, too, but he's worried about it, wondered about it. They can take care of themselves, can't they, they've all come a long way, but.
There's use worrying about any of that. They're here, now. He has to focus on this. Tucker says the Meta, and where Wash was sitting there at the edge of the bed, tired, fatigued as he always is but relaxed enough, he immediately tenses, his expression hardening, his eyes flicking up to Tucker's face.
But that melts away, a moment later. He understands. He does. Especially at the sound of Tucker's voice, at the obvious tension in his hands digging into the edge of the cot. When he says he should've been there. ]
They weren't even coming for me, you know that? [ Nudging him lightly in the arm. ] I wasn't a prisoner there, Tucker. It was fine.
[ He can't say the same for York. An exhale, slow and deep. ]
You didn't answer me.
[ He asked if you were okay. ]
no subject
Holy shit, you're from my time. [Their time. The Right Time, and Tucker breathed out, happy for something so small and so big at the same time. Goddamn, he didn't realize how much he just needed to hear it because he was sick of feeling alone and the others weren't here. They weren't, and he wasn't there to make sure they weren't dead or dying and it pissed him off like nothing else could.
Because they were a dysfunctional fucking family, but they were his, and if Hargrove killed them--
Nope. Not going there. They were too stupid to die, anyway; let's be real. Caboose would kill the enemy soldiers purely on accident.
The nudge made him look back at Wash and he rolled his eyes.] Come on, like this shit doesn't just scream Chorus to you all over again. [The fact that he wasn't a prisoner? Yeah, even more made it feel like old familiar paths. Good? Bad? He wasn't sure anymore, but Tucker managed a half grin before that inquiry came 'round again.
Well, that was a hard question, wasn't it?]
Nope. [And he pushed up to walk, to pace back and forth, to move with his arms waving as he spoke.] I'm really fucking not. I mean, everyone's back home fighting in some sick trophy room while I'm on a planet that is cold enough to make my balls permanently relocate in my chest cavity, and I can't see my kid or my sword or my idiot team, but I'm sure as shit seeing The Meta. So, no, dude. Not exactly okay.
[There was a pause, then--]
Unless you mean, like, physically, and then yeah. Totally fine, ask all the ladies. You know, because they call me "fine" when I walk by.
no subject
The whole situation's similarity to Chorus hasn't gone unnoticed in the slightest, Wash keeps thinking about it, weighing it out in his head, and that's why he's pretty set on not taking sides in this damned war, on reminding himself constantly that his priorities were just his own people and nothing else. He'd fight, still, he's a soldier, he knows how to fight for a cause he doesn't believe in, but he wont' be tricked into some bullshit fight again.
He just watches Tucker, silent, as he pushes himself up, starts to pace -- Tucker's always like that, all nervous energy and movement when he's anxious. He's not okay, of course he isn't, who fucking would be, but he seems well enough physically, with Wash noting the way he moves, how he shifts his weight when he walks, no sign of injury. Good. And then the thing about being fine, which might draw the tiniest smile from Wash before he shakes his head with an exasperated sigh. ]
I hope you haven't been running your mouth on every woman here, Tucker. [ From what he learned from Lakshmi, the women here probably get enough shit. He pushes himself up to his feet, and some medic moves to stop him, he should rest, he'd been knocked out cold, but Wash just quietly reassures them that he'll be back shortly ( he's sure that this is more about keeping an eye on him, than his condition ), already moving out of the medical tent, gesturing for Tucker to follow. ] Come on. Not here.
[ It's a little too easy to overhear things, in the medical tent and if he's going to explain some things to Tucker he'd rather at least a chance of being more discreet. ]
no subject
[Well, other than Volleyball, but he didn't say that.
Tucker's brow furrowed a little, but he started to follow Wash without argument or hesitation for once. He was cool with it; the Sim Trooper wasn't sure that he was exactly okay with the locals listening to the shit they needed to talk about anyway. And fuck, did they have a lot to talk about.
Huddling a little more into his coat once they were through the flap, Tucker sighed, exasperated. Sure, Wash hadn't said a thing yet, but he had a feeling that he knew what was coming; he'd have to be blind or Caboose-level of unaware to not see it. ]
Carolina tried to talk to me about him, you know. Well, more told me to just trust him because she did, which is bullshit, you know. But you're going to try to give me the same order, aren't you?
no subject
[ He could, though. He'd thought about it. Tucker wouldn't be happy about it but Wash does think he would listen, in the end -- but what good is just demanding trust? Tucker trusts him enough that he'd believe him, ultimately, no matter how unhappy he is, but Wash trusts him, too. He deserves a little more than just some throwaway answer.
Wash hopes Carolina will agree, on that front, but he'll. Speak to her later. ]
I wouldn't trust him, either, if I were you. [ His voice is calm, relaxed enough, but Tucker might recognize it as the kind of calm that Wash gets when he's having to put in especial effort to keep things under control, that this is something he isn't particularly ready to talk about but he's going to do it anyway. Wash gestures Tucker with him, makes sure he stays close as he wanders from the medical tent, somewhere towards the fringe of the camp, not too far out in the cold far enough that it feels private. ] Why would you, after everything you've seen the Meta do?
I need you to understand, Tucker. [ Turning around to face him, once he's satisfied enough with where they are. ] Maine is not the Meta.
no subject
[Well, shit, he wasn't exactly expecting that. The surprise cut through him, made him falter in one of his steps for a second before he got going again, catching up. He knew he shouldn't be this thrown off; he went to Wash about problems before, went to him about advice and hadn't regretted it; Tucker did trust him. Hadn't in the beginning, but they were far, far beyond that now, weren't they?
Hearing that his hesitation and his worries were validated? Even better. If he didn't value his life as much as he did, he might have started his I'm Always So Fucking Awesome dance at Carolina next time he saw her, but self-preservation was a powerful thing.
But then Wash kept talking, and the hopeful, ego-stroking smile faded a little, slipping back behind something cautious, careful until it was gone altogether.
Fuck. So much for winning.]
Yeaaah, I haven't exactly seen that not be true yet, you know? [The energy was back, along with the cold, and all his breath was punctuated in steam as he started to kick around snow.] I can tell you that I saw him drag in your knocked out ass, so you'll have to forgive me if he's not winning any points with me just yet, Wash.
[His arms crossed over his chest, not hiding anything. Tucker never really did; his body told as much as his ever-running mouth. It had always been that way, and without armor, it was even more apparent.] And just in case you were wondering: I could really do without seeing that again, you know. [Because, yeah, it scared the fuck out of him.]
no subject
That's part of the problem with gaining new people to be responsible over, with making new friends -- he puts himself at risk, constantly, because he should've already died time and time again, because he knows that if what it takes to get something done is for him to fall in the process, it'd likely be worth it. But Tucker doesn't understand that -- he'd tried to come for him, Wash still remembers, ill advised and unprepared, leading a rescue mission to try and get him back.
He appreciates it. He wishes he wouldn't worry, but that feels more than dismissive to say. ]
You should thank him. [ A pause -- he'll wait for Tucker to get his incredulity out of the way, before he explains. ] I forced his hand.
I wasn't alone in the Cetagandan base -- there was someone else, an old friend of mine and Carolina's. He was part of the escape attempt, too, but. [ A breath, looking away from Tucker briefly, and in the back of his head an echoed scream, in his mind's eye, York falling to the snow. Another image, Wash's armored hand, reaching out as he tapped at the bulletholes in York's armor, the body crumpled at his feet. He didn't die immediately, he remembers thinking. He'd bled out. ] The escape didn't go as smoothly as we'd hoped. He was caught by a stray shot, managed to cause enough of a diversion for the rest of us to get out.
I would've gone back for him. [ Looking back at Tucker, calm, matter-of-fact. ] I would've walked right back into the Cetagandan base completely unarmed when they'd still be on high alert, when they'd just had an escape attempt, when there'd be patrols swarming everywhere and their new prisoners under high guard. I knew all the risks. I still would've gone back.
Maine stopped me.
[ Maine knows him better than anyone else really does. Wash would've fought him tooth and nail, and Maine had known that -- he'd just ended it quickly, efficiently, in a way that'd get him hurt as little as possible, in a way that would leave no room for Wash to argue because he literally couldn't. ]
no subject
But to his credit, Tucker could listen. He could and he did, just like he noticed Wash looking away. Fuck, that was never a good sign, and Tucker knew something heavy was coming before Wash even went on. The past never did well with them.
Old friend? Who the hell was here that they knew? Something lurched in his chest because he wanted it so badly to be Church, Epsilon, whichever because he wasn't being picky, but Wash would have told him if it was, even knowing that Tucker would have taken off right then. So, no. No, it wasn't him.
Which meant it was no one he knew. And the disappointment flickered for a second, so he concentrated back on listening, on hearing what Wash would have done. On what Wash wanted to do. On what Tucker knew Wash would do.
Freckles, shake!
Fucking Blue Team self-sacrificial assholes.
For a long moment, he stared at Wash before dragging his hands down his face, feeling the gloves against his skin. ]
So, what? I'm supposed to just be okay because he just saved one of my best friends, but is the reason that the other one is gone? [Yeah. Yeah, Wash. He stomped a few feet away, hands clenched at his sides as he shook his head back and forth.] I wasn't around for it, you know? I wasn't around for any of that bullshit that went down so I don't know the Meta like the other guys, but I heard their stories and I know there was one less Blue Team member when it was done. That's it.
no subject
Of course this would be about Church, Wash should've known that, and yet he wasn't -- ready for this, wasn't really to hear it even though Tucker never so much as said a name. One of my best friends, he says, shaking, his hands clenched at his sides, Tucker always wore his heart on his sleeves. Tucker hadn't been there, hadn't been there for any of that bullshit, as he so eloquently puts it. He'd just been sent off somewhere else, actual work because he was actually kind of fucking capable, and when he'd met back with his friends he'd just had to find out later that one of them was gone, now.
He'd spoken to them about Church already, about their loss and pain, about how to start to move past it. But it'd take time. A lot of time. More time than they've had. And another thing, lingering at the back of his mind, that makes Wash's chest ache, is that Tucker says the Meta is the reason he's gone.
And in some ways, that's true. But in others, Wash knows the truth, that the Meta was trying to put Church back together in a way even it didn't understand, that the Meta was just a thing trying desperately to claw everything about itself back into a whole, that the Meta didn't push the button on the fucking EMP and the Meta sure wasn't the one who thought it might be good idea to throw everything into a reckless plan to try and bring everything crashing down around them, because that would fucking help, wouldn't it? Because that would make everything worthwhile. Because that would've brought justice to his friends, to the Alpha, and where did that take him, where did all of that fucking end up --
Breathe. Wash isn't like Tucker, has never shown anything on the surface so easily, but Tucker might still notice the weight in his tone. ]
I'm not saying you have to be okay with it immediately. [ Just watching him, not going to him. Let him turn around himself, if he wants. ] But you're going to have to understand that Carolina and I trust him with our lives.
Maine isn't the Meta. [ How much did Carolina explain? He doesn't know how far he should go, but Tucker deserves more than tidbits. ] Maine is the one who suffers the most from it. The Meta killed him too, Tucker -- and he was the first. Quietly, silently. Choked him out of his own mind until there was nothing left.
[ He could have stopped it. He saw the signs. He should have known. Breathe. ]
There might be a chance to save him from that, now. [ And this is when his eyes harden, his jaw sets, looking back at Tucker steadily. ] And I won't stand for you attacking him, or refusing to separate him from the thing that destroys him.
no subject
That’s what she had said to him. That and a bit about trusting her, which he did. He did trust her, because like the rest of them, she was family. But Wash hadn’t run off for personal redemption quests, leaving them all behind like she had. And while being completely and utterly dramatic in typical Wash fashion, he was at least trying to explain it.
Tucker rubbed his head, running his hands over his hair as he listened to him, trying to unpack what he was saying and read between the lines. Slowly he turned back around, his face fixed into something else, skeptical but with a need to believe in something, a want to make sense of shit. Make me fucking believe it. Come on, sell it to me]
What the hell happened, Wash? Plain language. No broad bullshit, tell me.
[Because this? This didn’t tell him enough. It didn’t tell him everything, and if they wanted his acceptance, if they wanted him to trust this guy, to fight with him and not against him, then dammit, no more secrets. It was only fucking fair.
The threat forced Tucker’s own eyes to narrow, his jaw tightening because everyone coming at him like that, like he was the fucking enemy, like he was the one with blood on his hands, was bullshit, too. He got the need for Freelancers to protect their own, but--]
Fuck that, Wash. Fuck. That. I’m going to call shit like I see it like I always do. Tell me the shit that happened, and if he doesn’t do crap that makes me think he’s The Meta, then I won’t have to be a dick and everyone is happy. [He waved an arm, and the momentary flash of hurt that slid over his eyes.]
Dude, you and Carolina both. We’re supposed to be a fucking team, too, in case you forgot. [The only team he had left because the rest—the guys were all—He shook his head, bowing it a little as he hitched up his shoulders.] This isn’t “Freelancers versus Sim Troops” bullshit; we’ve done that. Fucking get me to understand and stop making me feel like I have to blindly trust you, especially when I know it wouldn’t go both ways. You wouldn’t do it without questions, too.
no subject
I don't expect you to blindly trust me. [ But Wash hopes he's earned it. ] You should know what happened.
[ There are still some details he won't go too fully into, Tucker, but he'll try to give you as much as you need. ]
It was Sigma. His AI. Meant for Carolina, at first, but it was reassigned to him. [ How does he even begin to explain? What the Meta is, what it was, it wasn't even really a monster or some creature or some thing, it was just -- broken, fragments, a collection of pieces, barely held together at all. ] Just think of it this way. You know what Epsilon did to me, don't you?
[ Not in the details, and it's clear from how Wash immediately moves on from that, that now is not the time to ask about those details, and there is in fact no time to ask about those details. ]
Epsilon wasn't actually with me for very long. They knew something was wrong, and it was removed.
Maine's AI was just as harmful, if not even worse. [ In vastly different ways, but that's detail Wash might not want to go into if he can help it. His fingers curls lightly into his palms, uncurl, an obvious tension working through his body. He should have known. He should have fucking known. ] And Sigma was never removed.
no subject
[Epsilon. Epsilon.
For a minute, he couldn't think about what Wash was telling him, stopped caring about the Meta and all the other bullshit; that grief rose up to meet him, drown him. Epsilon, and he should fucking tell Wash what happened. He should tell Carolina. He needed to tell someone, they had a right and duty to know, and--
Not now. Not fucking now, because Wash needed to explain this shit first and he needed to understand it. That news, the shit he left behind? How bad the guys were? That...that could be told later. Or at least, after this.
So he just looked away because Tucker was horrible at lying about anything other than his supposed sexual prowess. It was almost easy to believe that he was simply doing it because he did know what Epsilon did to Wash in broadstrokes, and the entire damn thing made him uncomfortable. He hoped like hell that was how it came across and not the throttling guilt that was wanting to choke him.
AI. Why did they have to be such a pain in the ass? They seemed to be the source of everyone's problems.
At least Tucker stopped kicking snow, stopped pacing and moving and stopped all the little tells that he was irritated. He wondered how bad Wash would have been if Church hadn't been removed, wondered if Epsilon would have done the same thing to him as Sigma had, if it would have been on purpose or it just would have happened.]
So, like, why wasn't it removed? [He sighed a little, a puff of smoke, before he rolled his shoulders to keep moving; it was too cold not to.] What the fuck was going on that no one took it out? You guys had doctors and shit, so come on. I mean, sure, he's like a living mountain but you had to have enough tranqs to take down a fucking Sangheili army, I bet, so why not him?
no subject
Wash closes his eyes, for a moment, tipping his head back, a slow, steady exhale, his breath misting in the air. Breathe in, breathe out. ]
We didn't know.
[ That was it. They didn't know. They could've stopped it, they could've something, but none of them knew. They were all there and everything went on as normal while one of their number, while their friend was battling for control of his very mind, while he was slowly dying right next to them, and none of them noticed. None of them knew. He should've known. He knew more than anyone else, and he'd noticed how Maine had changed, been curious, cautious about it, most of the others shrugging away and saying that's just how Maine's always been, irritable, not exactly personable, but no, there was something different, and why didn't he figure it out until it was too fucking late.
Breathe. He opens his eyes. ]
Maine was stubborn, and strong. He fought it well and fought it as long as he could, but no one realized there was anything wrong until. [ Until it was already too late, Maine, hoisting up Carolina by her neck, her blue armor gleaming in the light reflecting up from the snow, throwing her off so carelessly when there'd been so many times Wash had seen him take a fucking bullet for her without even thinking about it -- ] Until it was too late.
[ There it is, Tucker. Plain and simple. They just didn't know. ]
no subject
It wasn't a stretch to believe this was, too. ]
Fuck.
[Fuck, because being mad? Being angry? It wasn't having much place here, all wrung out by the way Wash was talking about this, by the look on his face as he explained it. Fuck, because having an actual enemy felt better than trying to have to trust the Met--Maine. Fuck, because trying to imagine him as much of a victim as Church fucking hurt.
He ran his hands over his head again, walked in a small circle, feet crunching in the snow before he flailed his arms once, frustrated. Goddamn Freelancer drama shifting over into Blue Team Problems, and yeah. Now it was his problem, too.]
Fine, he's...he's Maine. But do you know for sure that he can't turn into the Meta? That he won't go on some fucked up mission here and hurt people again? Hell, can you know?
no subject
No.
[ No, he doesn't know. And he can't know.
Wash has tried desperately not to think about it too deeply. Maine is from the past, but he's also already had Sigma, just not for very long -- not yet long enough for anything to take hold. He's paid as much attention to him as he can, still not quite getting over how he hasn't seen his face in ten fucking years and here he is, trying to read every expression ( not that Maine has that many ), every movement. He seems fine. Perfectly fine. The exact same Maine he remembers from Freelancer, gruff, proud, infinitely stubborn, childish and crude sometimes, protective and concerned in his own way -- and still seeing through all of Wash's bullshit, as always. Maine was always better than anyone else at that. ]
But if there was any real chance Maine was going to hurt you, or Carolina, or anyone else here -- I'll be the first to stop him. [ His eyes are hard, determined, and then softening a bit, when he looks back at Tucker. He understands that he's asking a lot, that he's asking so much of Tucker, that he already asks so much of him. ] Tucker, Maine's saved my life more times than I can count. Carolina's, too. He was our friend -- he is our friend.
He'd fight for you, too. [ A bit of a laugh, here, dry. ] Might not like it, but he still would, because he knows that I would. That Carolina would.
I just -- I owe him at least this much.
[ To believe him. To help him. And not to fail him again. ]
no subject
This might be the biggest thing he's asked from Tucker. It sure as hell was the hardest thing to give him.
But Wash protected him from Carolina once when she pulled a gun on him; he owed him, trusted him. He fucking hoped like hell Wash would do it again if he had to.
Tucker sighed, shoulders fall, and the fight was edging away, draining down as he looked at the Freelancer. At his friend. Wash had won, if this was an argument, which it wasn't, not really. It was just a lot of bullshit that needed to be said, explained, worked over so maybe he could actually sleep at night instead of waiting until Maine was out before he passed out in the tent. Cohabitation. Something.]
All right. I mean, I'm not saying that I'm going to be scrapbooking pictures of us together or some shit, but I won't actively try to trip him down stairs, okay? [Which was pretty much about as good as it could get for now; there was so much he needed to work out on his own, so many things he needed to see with his eyes; Wash could talk until he was blue in the face but nothing was as solidifying as watching it unfold himself.
Tucker frowned a little, arms crossing over his chest.] Look, are you okay?
[Because Wash had asked him, but it was just as important to ask it back. Especially with all this being laid at their feet.]
no subject
Never a time for a rest. Especially not now. ]
Thank you, Tucker. [ Genuine, warm. He knows how much he's asking, here. It means a lot that Tucker trusts him enough for this. And then, well.
Surprise flickers across his expression -- he's genuinely not expecting the question. He blinks back at him, almost in confusion, as if he's not used to even having to answer that before he just makes some huffing sound, maybe a little amused, closing his eyes briefly. ]
Doing a lot better as of finally getting here. [ Tucker will get more than an I'm fine, he's earned that much from Wash, but sorry, he still won't say much in detail. ] Could be a lot worse.
[ He's still thinking of York, screaming as he was hit, hearing him collapse in the snow, York, cold and dead when he found him, collapsed on his side, empty and gone but Delta flickering up to greet him, calm and collected as ever. A breath, his eyes flickering open. ]
Maine really didn't hurt me. [ An upward quirk of his lips. ] Promise.
no subject
You might regret coming over here soon.
[But it…it felt better. Everything felt better, just a shade brighter because there was still a bunch of shit he needed to tell Wash about who was gone, where he left things, why he felt like such an asshole even being here, but…later. After Wash was done recovering from that rescue (?) mission.
And sure he’d side-eye Maine like a goddamn hawk, but at least he could sleep now. Maybe.]
Let’s be real: even if he did, it wouldn’t matter. You’re like Donut: you can pretty much walk off everything. [Except the emotional shit, but he didn’t say that, didn’t feel the need.]
It’s a good thing he didn’t, because I’d have to kick his ass otherwise. [As if he could even if he tried. More like, And then I’d have to bleed on him.]
Come on; they’re going to start looking for you soon, and they’re going to bitch at me for dragging you into the cold.