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

"I guess not, we've just got way more of a gap than I thought. You don't mind?" He doesn't actually care. What he does care about is that he clearly rubbed Ratchet the wrong way with his question about inorganic life.

"But how?" The concept just doesn't exist to him even if he wants to understand. "Sorry, we don't... have anything like that, that I know of. All the life we've encountered is organic. I didn't mean--" He waves his hand, frustrated. He knows Ratchet's alive, even if not the how.

Ratchet shrugs a little. "Doesn't bother me. I've known plenty of smart, decent organics and plenty of brainless Cybertronians. It doesn't seem to make much of a difference."

He sighs, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Don't worry about it. There are two modes of creation, and it's considered impolite to ask which is which, but for my own part I was forged. That means that Vector Sigma, the core of our planet, reacted with a section of the surface to create a hotspot where a set of new people were sparked. It's part of our names--I'm Ratchet of Tagan Heights, the hotspot where I was born. The sparks are harvested along with the sentio metallico that surrounds them, and that allows them to develop into their frame. There's a pile of religious garbage I'm not bothering to mention because it's completely meaningless, but that's pretty much it otherwise." He eyes York curiously. "You really aren't bothered by all this?"

York blinks, and there's absolutely no comprehension in his gaze but he's listening, and he'll remember it, for what that's worth. Ratchet of Tagan Heights, forging from hotspots, sparks and sentient metal. It makes sense within itself, at least. There's a narrative there that he can hold on to.

Is he bothered by it?

"Not... really? I mean. It's a lot to take in and I wish you'd felt like you could tell me, because maybe I could have helped more, but it wasn't about me, so." He shrugs a little. "I don't care that you're not actually human. You're as much of a person as I've ever known either way."

Edited 2017-02-28 20:11 (UTC)

"It's not that I felt I couldn't tell you," Ratchet says, the corners of his mouth crimped. "I just didn't know how to tell you and be sure nobody but you heard."

Some of the habitual tightness in his shoulders is unwinding slowly, though, and he looks down at their twined fingers again, tension draining from his face to just leave him looking tired.

"Thank you," he says quietly down at their hands, his thumb smoothing over the back of York's palm.

"And that's a valid worry, here, I get it. It's not like you were actually lying, anyway." Maybe if he'd ever pushed, Ratchet would have, but it had never come to that. So he can let it go and just try to absorb what he's learned. It's weird. It definitely makes things more complicated, especially when he's considering other worlds to go to, but he's not thinking anything less of Ratchet for the secret.

"...nothing to thank me for. It's just the truth." Which they've both kind of dumped on each other, again. York just breathes for a moment, then leans over and bumps his forehead against Ratchet's temple softly. "Have we spilled everything now? Are we good?"

Ratchet hums low in his throat and turns his head in to press back against York, heaving a warm sigh.

"We're good," he says. "I mean, I've been to North America and your friends are called Washington, Maine, and Carolina, so I figure your parents didn't name you 'York.' But you don't have to tell me if you don't want. Just, I know, and it doesn't bother me one way or the other."

Oh right, there is still that. York only hesitates for a moment, for the strangeness of anyone knowing after so long using a codename. He even calls himself York in his head after all this time and Delta's influence. But it can't hurt for Ratchet to know. "...I was born Josh Lansing. No one's used that name in a long time, though. The others would have to tell you theirs themselves."

"Josh Lansing," Ratchet says slowly, then draws back enough to get a good look at the other man's expression.

"What do you want me to call you?"

"Which do I look more like?" He grins, but there's something nervous about it. Something incredibly intimate in anyone knowing his real name and actually using it. He'd want Ratchet to stick to York in public at the least.

"Hey, don't ask me, I haven't met a human with a reasonable sounding name yet." Ratchet grins a little, taking any sting out of the words.

"Everybody else knows you as York, so I'll stick to that for now, I guess. Mostly, anyway, unless you tell me different."

"Ratchet would sound pretty weird to most humans, too. Like a nickname." That's what he'd thought at first. And since he uses a code name he wasn't going to question it. "Sticking with York is the easiest," he agrees, hoping that the Cetagandans will feel the same way and not try to use his given name. It's too personal.

"...so. Am I still allowed to kiss you? While you're in a body that I can, at least?" He'd understand if the answer was no.

"Yeah, I got the feeling you wouldn't want it spread around, interrogation or no interrogation," Ratchet says before his face softens a little, the lines around his mouth easing.

"Yeah. If you want to, I--yeah, you can. Of course."

"I told you I still did." Before he found out about the whole giant Cybertronian thing, but that really doesn't change how he feels about Ratchet here and now. "Is it really different as a human? Compared to when you're metal."

"Extremely," Ratchet says, huffing a soft laugh. "Everything is, it's--we're bipedal half the time, so moving isn't entirely unfamiliar, but the way organic bodies process information is completely different and a lot less efficient." One shoulder tilts in a shrug, his other hand still curled loose against York's before he squeezes lightly, one corner of his mouth curling up.

"It's not so bad, though. There are certain perqs."

York doesn't argue --he can't, only ever having been organic. "Certain perks, huh? Like finally relaxing?"

"I haven't relaxed in five million years, I'm not about to start now," Ratchet says dryly, his thumb rubbing light, absent circles against the back of York's palm. "Sensation is just... very different, like this."

"I'm gonna take that as a challenge, just so you know." He just has to talk to Gail, maybe.

York reaches over to tilt Ratchet's chin up with his free hand, looking him over first, just for a moment. The stunner hit hadn't don't any damage, headache aside. But damn had that scared him. He strokes his thumb over Ratchet's jaw, through the stubble there. They could both use some grooming after two days in holding.

"Hmm, feel free." Ratchet's eyes widen a little as York tilts his head up, lips parting in surprise before he takes in the look on York's face and just... lets him, swallowing a little. He can't help the slight shiver of his eyelids as York's thumb slides along the line of his jaw, fighting to keep them open as he exhales on a long breath.

"I'm all right," he says, his voice just a little raw. "Promise."

"I believe you, I just..." He needs to see it for himself. Needs Ratchet's pulse under his fingertips, to feel the warmth of his skin and see the light still in his eyes. They're going to have to be more careful next escape attempt, he can't see that happen again. His friend crumpling to the ground like a rag doll, unresponsive. It replays in his mind and he shakes his head sharply, then leans in and down to catch Ratchet's mouth. Kissing is a much better thing to be occupied with.

Ratchet sighs and leans in against York's side, feeling his pulse against York's fingertips, his arms winding around York's shoulders until his fists clench in the back of York's shirt, a sudden shock of urgency striking like lightning down his spine. He presses into the kiss, his breath hitching in his throat before he catches himself and draws back again.

"I'm glad you're all right, too," he says a little unsteadily. "Hearing you scream like that--not that I blamed you. I hated it, being shoved in a different cell where I couldn't check how you were doing."

York stays close, their faces almost touching, his hand now curved to Ratchet's neck. Like this he can almost ignore the stinging in his leg. He looks a little embarrassed when Ratchet mentions him screaming, usually he can handle pain but that burn was something else. "Yeah. They did that on purpose, putting us so far apart... and it hurts but it'll heal. Hopefully fast." A sly smile. "I've got ideas."

"I know. Doesn't mean I liked it any better." Ratchet kisses him again, brief and impulsive before he loosens his grip a little and looking equal parts curious and wary.

"Ideas for what? You can't rush a burn healing."

"For how to get you to relax." For fun, basically, since they're not making another escape attempt anytime soon. Realistically, it was just plain stupid to leave the side with the medicine when he had a fresh skin graft. As much as he wanted to turn and bolt.

Ratchet makes an indignant little noise. "I don't need to relax. We're stuck in a semi-hostile base on an unfamiliar planet with a bunch of military geneticists with truth drugs, I think I am the perfect amount of relaxed."

"The perfect amount is enough to sleep at night. That'll all I'm aiming for, promise. You can be as tense as you want during the day."

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