barrayarmods: (Default)
For Barrayar mods ([personal profile] barrayarmods) wrote in [community profile] forbarrayar2017-03-04 05:33 am

[ march i log: we need medicine ]

Who: Everyone
What: New arrivals, desperate times, whispers down the hall.
When: March 1st - 18th
Where: Barrayaran camp / Cetagandan base
Warnings: TBD

Quick links:
Riverfall
Barrayar: Plague / Camp / Missions
Cetaganda: Plague / Base / Missions



welcome to barrayar.
It's the dark of night when you come to in the foothills. Snow on the ground, chill winter wind whistling -- in fact, it's dangerously cold, and all you have is the clothes on your back.. A steep mountain range towers just ahead, its peaks illuminated by the light of two moons. Whatever you last remember, it isn't how you got here, and you feel oddly jetlagged, slightly queasy.

And you're not alone. There are a few other people close by, all looking equally lost and confused. But before any of you have a chance to figure out what's going on, the soldiers arrive. There's a war on, they say, and you unlucky bastards have just been dropped right smack in the middle of it.

With March comes some relief. The first few days to a week are still bitterly, dangerously cold, but the weather starts to pick up gradually over the course of the next couple of months. It only gets barely above freezing, but after the last month, it might as well be a summer's day.

riverfall
The party last month definitely boosted morale, and certainly brought the outsiders closer to the villagers. They're noticeably friendlier toward the outsiders afterward, although they still give the exotics and their accompanying ghem soldiers the evil eye.

Given the village's covert assistance with the war effort and the fact that the Cetagandans found enough data to include the village in its regular patrols, Riverfall has become sort of a middle ground between the two sides. Coinciding visits don't happen every day, but they can provide opportunities for the two factions to secretly meet. Of course, this always carries a risk…best be sure not to be caught by either side's soldiers. Thanks to Negri, the Barrayarans roughly know the patrol schedule.

barrayar
Temperatures are still pretty low by the time March rolls around, and the first week is considerably cold, but it's steadily getting warmer as the month goes on. By the second week, it's just warm enough to start taking baths again -- and boy is there ever a queue.

On the 2nd, a small troop of soldiers arrives, led by Prince Xav Vorbarra, Olivia and Sonia's father, and Piotr's aide-de-camp Captain Ezar Vorbarra, a distant cousin of theirs. They bring with them a load of relief supplies fom Beta Colony, improving not only their food and medicine situation, but some to pass on back to the Riverfall villagers in return for their help. Anyone lurking around at night might see Ezar talking to Negri from time to time as well, and Sonia seems to be getting up to some kind of mischief where Ezar is concerned.

Prince Xav gives Piotr a very helpful tipoff -- there's a Betan biochemist waiting in the occupied district capital, Vorkosigan Vashnoi, to rendezvous with him on his way back off Barrayar. Xav can't stay long; he needs to find another way off-planet, and Doctor Micah Niadem has been laying low in Vorkosigan Vashnoi, but the risk of their presence being detected grows with every day. It may be easier and safer to smuggle them back to the camp than try to get them back off-planet for now -- and besides, their expertise in astrophysics might prove useful. But Xav hasn't yet been able to make contact through the soldiers occupying the city, so Piotr sends his own scouts.

Piotr, with Xav and Ezar as advisors, is trying to come to a decision about what to do about the Cetagandans' wormhole project. There's no telling what the Cetagandans really intend to do with the wormhole device, but disrupting or destroying their project would mean no way home for the outsiders, and…Piotr no longer feels that to be the most honorable option. That, and the idea of this technology in Cetagandan hands does them no favors. But their intelligence on the project is limited -- Byerly will prove to be a useful intelligent asset, certainly, but Piotr is looking for more informants. Any outsiders willing and able to make connections with any exotics sympathetic to the cause would certainly be appreciated by the General.

plague
Early in the month, some of the villagers begin to get sick -- it looks just like a particularly nasty cold at first. It quickly worsens and spreads to the camp, and by the 7th it is evident there is an outbreak of the Barrayaran flu, an influenza variant that has mutated over the last several centuries. Barrayarans have built up antibodies against most strains, but this is a particularly virulent strain, and with a population that has neither vaccines nor modern medicine, it can be fatal. The recent cold snap and limited food haven't exactly fortified anyone's immune systems, either, and in the first half of the month, about half the population of the village and camp come down with the flu at some point.

Although the virus isn't spreading much more quickly than your average flu, it's still a nasty infection, and the symptoms are difficult to effectively treat without proper equipment of facilities. Some of the relief supplies brought by Prince Xav include surgical masks and gloves for the people working triage to protect them from the airborne illness as much as possible. The supplies also include some analgesics and synergine, but hardly enough to go around. Fevers, aches and chills, coughing, vomiting -- they treat them with what they have once they run out of relief supplies. And for the most part, those with the flu manage to pull through and recover -- but if the flu turns to pneumonia, there's almost nothing they can do at that point. Thanks to the tireless efforts of villagers, soldiers, and some outsiders, the first half of the month sees only a 10% mortality rate between the village and the camp, resulting in only 23 influenza-related deaths.

Sonia is among the first to get sick, but she sweats it out in five days or so and manages a full recovery. Olivia, on the other hand, falls much more seriously ill. Piotr takes great care not to get sick; the camp is already incapacitated as it is.

camp
Camp morale is still buckling under the weight of crisis after crisis, but the arrival of Prince Xav and the improving weather have done a lot to lighten the mood. Xav and Ezar coordiate to distribute the relief supplies even as the flu ravages the camp and village, never a dull moment . Olivia and Sonia haven't seen their father Xav in over two years, and it's a long-overdue family reunion. Piotr welcomes the return of his friend and aide-de-camp Ezar, and Sonia seems to be getting into some kind of mischief with her cousin. And in a quiet moment here and there, Ezar can be seen talking to Negri.

By the morning of the 1st, Byerly Vorrutyer will have abruptly disappeared from camp.

Piotr is trying to keep military operations running as much as he can while half the camp tends to the sick or fall sick themselves. They'd found the traitors, yes, but Piotr's anger is far from satisfied. The food shortage had derailed their power supply strategy, and it's only further pushed back by this current crisis, so large operations are off the table. But Piotr has never underestimated the value of psychological warfare in this war. He has a few conveniently available corpses for hacking up and planting in the Cetagandan base just to shake things up a little, and anyone who can lift a sword without coughing is qualified. Xav does not approve.

missions
The medical assistance provided by the outsiders doesn't go unappreciated, nor without effect. Not every day is a success, but they manage to keep the mortality rate relatively low.

The infiltration missions to plant the severed body parts mostly go according to plan, although Lakshmi and Nash run afoul of some guards. Between the outsiders and other Barrayaran squads, they manage to plant several body parts, and in doing so, inadvertently spread the Barrayaran flu to the Cetagandans.

The outsiders scouting out Vorkosigan Vashnoi manage to stay undetected by Cetagandan soldiers, although they run into exotics on the other side. They manage to get some information about Micah's location, but very little…thankfully, Byerly passes on to Miles much more specific information the exotics were able to obtain.

Here are the unabridged mission results.

cetaganda
The snow piled up around the base starts to gradually melt over the course of the month as temperatures rise. The new wave of exotics are processed and very gently prodded like every group has been, but they've been treated with the same level of civility. The Cetagandans are generally exceedingly polite, but they are becoming a little less patient with the exotics after the recent bouts of violence and escapism.

Despite the Barrayaran flu sweeping the base, military operations must carry on. Zahal might have lost his informants in the Barrayaran camp, but he knows they've been struggling, and wants to implement some more aggressive tactics to hit them while they're down -- and more than that, the dead body parts of his own soldiers scattered around the base have had their intended effect, rattling and aggravating the ghem-General -- even more so when they realize that this was the means by which the plague spread to the base. Whatever organized strategy Zahal starts to pull together is immediately disrupted by the rapid spread of the virus through the base. With Cetagandan soldiers dropping like flies, military operations all but come to a halt on the base.

However, Cetagandan intelligence gets wind of a Barrayar-allied astrophysicist from Beta Colony, a planet renowned for its cutting-edge technological advances, particularly in the field of wormhole science; they may be able to solve some of the pieces of the puzzle. The Betan scientist is apparently hiding out in Vorkosigan Vashnoi, the capital city of the city. The virus has spread there too; Barrayarans and Cetagandans alike are facing the outbreak, although the native population seems to be faring a bit better. The Cetagandans need help bringing medical supplies, so while they're at it, the ghem-General dispatches a few teams to try and sniff out the scientist's location. Meanwhile, in the R&D labs, some of the exotics who have been promoted to lab assistant are helping the Cetagandans to make some advancements, and they're finally let in on some more details about the project.

plague
A few days into the month, some of the soldiers start to show cold-like symptoms -- and then the outbreak of Barrayaran influenza spreads rapidly throughout the base. Unlike the Barrayarans, the Cetagandans have no antibodies for this strain, and even their advanced immune systems cannot defend them against a totally new pathogen. They are infected even more quickly than the Barrayarans and their symptoms escalate rapidly as well, resulting in an alarming mortality rate. Cetagandan soldiers are falling sick left and right. Triage starts in the medbay, but they have to quarantine off another wing of the building just to make room for the rapidly growing population of infected ghem. The airborne virus is spreading through the base at an alarming speed -- save for Byerly, no one on base has ever been exposed to it. The symptoms are severe and while the Cetagandans have plenty of equipment, they have neither an antiviral nor a vaccine for the Barrayaran flu. High fever, vomiting, dehydration, respiratory and sinus problems run rampant, and though they have plenty in the way of synergine and analgesics, the Barrayaran flu quickly leads to pneumonia in most Cetagandan patients, and with their immune systems so completely unprepared, most patients with pneumonia die within 24 to 48 hours. The triage assistants are, at least, provided with surgical masks and gloves and antibacterial gel by the bucket load to protect them from the airborne illness as much as possible. By mid-month, nearly two thirds of the base has been infected.

The medical staff scrambles to put up a quarantine while also working on a vaccine for the uninfected population on the base. Byerly, being the only person on base who has ever been exposed to the Barrayaran flu, offers a blood sample -- potentially containing antibodies to this strain. Some of the Cetagandans' testing methods are a little ethically questionable, but they're trying to work fast. They're able to develop a working vaccine with a projected effectiveness of 70%.

Toward the middle of the month, Amai catches the flu and is laid low for about a week. Diya and Zahal take great care not to catch it -- Diya seems particularly absent lately.

base
Paranoia of infection hovers over the entire base, but some of the Cetagandans are concerned with another upcoming event: the arrival of the Handmaiden of the Star Crèche. What the Handmaiden of the Star Crèche actually is or does seems to be rather vague to the exotics -- she seems to play some role in genetic politics -- but it's known that she's haut, like Diya. The Cetagandans are scrambling to prepare for her arrival with considerable worry about resolving the flu epidemic before she touches down. The Cetagandans are about as close to cultural panic as they get right now. Diya received personal notice from the Handmaiden of the Star Crèche herself.

Starting on the 1st, Byerly Vorrutyer joins the exotic ranks as an undercover agent, looking not only for information but to potentially recruit exotics sympathetic to the Barrayaran cause.

Meanwhile in the labs, the Cetagandans have been letting the exotics get a little more hands-on with their research. Natasha, York and Symmetra have risen a bit in the ranks and are brought in on more specific projects. The ghem ladies are, surprisingly, now looking for volunteers to work in the gene labs too -- personnel shortage, of course.

missions
Even though a few of their own fall prey to the illness, the exotics' medical assistance does wind up being quite helpful, particularly with development of the vaccine. Meanwhile, eavesdroppers are doing their usual business and digging deep in places they shouldn't -- particularly where Amai and Diya are concerned.

The exotics that accompany the Cetagandans to Vorkosigan Vashnoi manage to stay undetected by Barrayaran soldiers, although they run into exotics on the other side. They are able to get some very detailed information about Micah's location, which Byerly passes back to the Barrayarans via Miles.

Here are the unabridged mission results.

Note: Negri and Zahal are available for threads by request only. Please hit up Madi or Ammay respectively for 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.
littlemissfutility: (45)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-03-11 07:21 pm (UTC)(link)
"Then I'll check on somebody else." She's frowning--fuss, he says, like she's a kid about to have a tantrum--but she's standing up, too. If she takes him at his word and he leaves, and she has the feeling he probably will, then next time, she'll babysit him. For now, there's plenty of other stuff to do. "Get some rest."
pigsfeet: (STOP HITTING)

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2017-03-11 07:27 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, yeah," he grumbles, turning on his side. He pulls the blanket up around him and waits for this all to be over.

It's not over before his resolve breaks. As Beth predicted, he leaves the tent before she comes back. When he sneaks back in, he looks guilty, and more than a little feverish. Cold sweat prickles at his brow, and he's covered in snow as though he's been rolling in it. He walks slowly, with a dizzy gait, trying to remember where his sad little cot was.
littlemissfutility: (67)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-03-11 11:33 pm (UTC)(link)
She doesn't see him go, but she knows when he's gone. Her plan was to check on him, try and get him to sleep--right up until she walks over to the bedroll she'd left him in and finds it empty. Then, her plan is to work a little longer and then go looking for him, but a whisper of cold air from the entrance makes her look up from where she's spreading a blanket over a sleeping, shivering patient.

He's back, and he looks a hell of a lot worse for his escape.

"Daryl!" He looks like he fell down out there, except even falling down, the snow wouldn't cling to him on all sides. Hurrying over to him, she holds out a hand, as if expecting him to start wobbling right then and there. "Jesus, what happened?"
pigsfeet: (man car car man.)

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2017-03-12 08:05 pm (UTC)(link)
"Fight," Daryl murmurs, sliding into his cot like he's almost grateful for it. It occurs to him a moment late that he ought to have lied. He ought to have done a lot of things. He ought to have punched that sniveling little shit-

Daryl begins coughing, and he curls away from Beth so she doesn't get whatever he hacks up all over her.
littlemissfutility: (56)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-03-12 08:56 pm (UTC)(link)
"A fight?" she squawks, following him over to the bedroll. When she sees him start hacking, she grabs a clean bowl and what basically amounts to an old-fashioned handkerchief. Kneeling down beside him--on the coughing side, naturally--she thrusts both of them in his direction, though not quite at him, she hopes. "Here. Barf in this."

Or cough up gross stuff, or whatever's coming. Both seem about equally possible at the moment. Her stomach twists as she tries to make sense of the situation, dread creeping in. "Did the Cetas--"
pigsfeet: (monty mceyesore)

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2017-03-13 03:14 am (UTC)(link)
Daryl is too miserably dizzy to reject her offers this time. It's been hours, and he's exhausted and queasy. The bowl smells awful, of course it does, and he wretches into it pathetically. It's over quickly-- there isn't much in his stomach-- and he sets into a series of cold shivers. Christ, what a waste he is.

"Barrayaran," Daryl says, except without half so many vowels. Baryarn. She'll know what he means. "Little'n. Prick."
littlemissfutility: (13)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-03-13 03:27 am (UTC)(link)
He looks like hell. Even worse than he was when she dragged him in here. When he finishes puking, he doesn't even wipe his mouth on his sleeve. That's the thing that scares her, more than the puke itself ever could, and she picks up the handkerchief to dab at his face herself. He won't like it, but someone's gotta.

"The lit--Daryl!" She draws her hand back, appalled. "You were fighting Miles?"
pigsfeet: (fuck stairs)

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2017-03-13 03:33 am (UTC)(link)
Daryl's eyes are closed, and he doesn't notice her hand until it's on him. He grimaces, but doesn't much move, lying there and feeling blessedly too tired for the waves of shame to roll over him.

"Started it," he wheezes. "Tried to kick my ass."
littlemissfutility: (54)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-03-13 03:37 am (UTC)(link)
He barely moves when she brushes flecks of vomit away from his skin and off his hair. That worries her, too, more than she'd like to admit to either of them right now. He doesn't have pneumonia, right? As long as he doesn't have pneumonia, he's going to be okay.

The way he was coughing, though...


She picks up the bowl--gross, gross, gross--and tells him, "Wait, I'm getting you a blanket."

More like three, with the way he's shivering, but who's counting? When Beth returns, she crouches down beside him and starts spreading them over him, one by one. "Why would he try to kick your ass? You're sick."
pigsfeet: (rip my ability 2 feel feelings)

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2017-03-13 03:43 am (UTC)(link)
The blankets are too hot and too itchy, and he's too tired and sick to fight them off. One moment he's too hot, the next he's frozen. He wishes he'd hurry up and die already.

"It happened," is what he manages. He's not going to explain why he fought the prick, and he's not going to justify it either. It annoys him that he has to, when he obviously came out of it worse for wear. She's never going to trust him, and that's just life. "Ask him. Prick likes talking."

Then she can come back and blame him, and by then he'll probably be taking a bite out of the nearest patient. He ought to do something about that. Shit, everything's going to fall apart because he has a cold. He sets in shivering again.
littlemissfutility: (91)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-03-13 03:54 am (UTC)(link)
Blankets are better than sitting there, shivering, she figures, and he's more than capable of opening his mouth if he's pissed about something. He did just an hour or two ago, when she suggested coming over here in the first place. So she assumes he will, and she keeps piling on the blankets.

"I know it happened," she answers, telling herself to be patient with him. He's going to need something after this, tea or the cloth thing they showed her how to make, something that'll help the way he's burning up. "You're covered in snow."

What were you doing out there in the first place? she wants to ask, like she doesn't already know the answer to that. He was trying to get out of here, and they both know it.
pigsfeet: WE WERE ALL ROOTING FOR YOU (WE WERE ROOTING FOR YOU)

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2017-03-13 03:57 am (UTC)(link)
"I goddamn know!" He hollers, or tries to. His voice goes weird in the middle, and he ducks his head afterward, embarrassed and exhausted. "The hell else d'you want?" He tries to open his eyes and glare at her, but that feels like crap, and his head's spinning. He tries to turn away from her and curl up again. There's an overwhelming desire to be small, smaller, unnoticeable, something that won't be blamed for its idiocy on his own goddamn death bed.
Edited 2017-03-13 04:06 (UTC)
littlemissfutility: (20)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-03-13 11:28 pm (UTC)(link)
"To know why you picked a fight when you're sick!" It's a little annoyance and a lot of worry flattening out her voice. She tries to keep it to a whispered hiss, but it takes effort. "You're gonna get pneumonia if you keep going out there."

And that's as good as laying down and dying. That's what everyone says.
pigsfeet: 1/2. moonshine. (im a real model.)

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2017-03-13 11:39 pm (UTC)(link)
"I'll die or I won't!" Daryl says, yowling this profound statement from under his threadbare blanket. "If you're gonna give me shit about it too, you can get beat out in the snow on your own damn time!"

It makes perfect sense to him. Christ, he's so damn tired.
littlemissfutility: (23)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-03-13 11:47 pm (UTC)(link)
"You won't!" Beth snaps back, nearly as loud as him. He's disturbing everyone else, quiet him down--but she's worried and angry and he's being such a stubborn jackass about this. She can't think of anything except what happens if he does die, what happens to her and to a camp that's started to rely on his hunting. "You're gonna stay here and get better, and if that means I have to fight you, I will."

She's about ready to tie him to one of the tent stakes. He can't go out there again. He already looks twice as bad from this one stupid fight he had. And if he wants another one, she's pretty sure she can kick his ass without breaking a sweat. He was barely walking straight when he came back in here.
pigsfeet: (cool loner type)

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2017-03-13 11:50 pm (UTC)(link)
Daryl, having given up any semblance of dignity in this charade, throws the blanket over his head and curls up under it like he's trying to disappear. "Ain't goin' nowhere!" Does she really think he looks like he's in a fit state to move, much less walk? He wants to curl up and die. His head feels like a split melon.
Edited (lol.) 2017-03-13 23:51 (UTC)
littlemissfutility: (91)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-03-14 12:15 am (UTC)(link)
"Good." He wasn't in any shape to leave last time, and he got himself into a fight. What's so special about now? Besides the fact that he can barely sit up. "So if I get you some medicine, you're gonna be here when I get back?"
pigsfeet: (SUP FUCKER)

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2017-03-14 12:34 am (UTC)(link)
Voice muffled under blanket and pillow, Daryl tells Beth where exactly to stick her medicine, and continues to lie rigid on the cot. At this point, Death is looking like the preferred option.
littlemissfutility: (21)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-03-14 12:57 am (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, you, too," she mutters, getting up and stomping away. And just because he's being an ass, he's getting a poultice to the foot.

Plus, he could use one badly. He looks way, way worse, and the Barrayarans swear by it. And that's why, when she comes back, she ignores his head and lifts up the blankets near his feet.

"Gonna take off one of your boots," she tells him, like this is something she does every day (and lately, it is).
pigsfeet: (no one makes me bleed my own blood)

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2017-03-14 01:37 am (UTC)(link)
The moment she mentions taking off his clothes, he scrambles away from her, scowling down at her from under the blanket. "You really wanna do this now?" It sounds like a threat.

Why can't people leave him alone? He agreed to all this stupid shit, but people keep pushing, they want more and more pieces of him. Give us the truth. Give us your blood. Lie like a corpse while we touch you. Take off your clothes. Next they'll be asking him to do it with a smile. He doesn't have the energy to be properly angry, but he tries, shivering miserably and staring at Beth like a caged animal backed into a corner.
littlemissfutility: (82)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-03-14 02:16 am (UTC)(link)
He looks so upset that she sets the poultice down and draws her hand back from where it rested on his worn shoe. In her irritation, she'd forgotten all about how he'd cringed back from her earlier, how carefully she'd planned to handle him. Shame crawls up her throat.

"Not--Daryl, it'll help. We have to do something about your fever." And this, maybe, will do something. It's not like she can give him Tylenol out here. She watches him, chewing on the inside of her lip. "It's just your boot. And your sock."

And if he says no, leave him alone.
pigsfeet: (doin stuff)

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2017-03-14 02:21 am (UTC)(link)
Daryl is tired, exhausted, but he refuses to let her do this. His fragile sense of pride, whatever little remains, wouldn't survived it. He thinks he's suffered enough goddamn indignities on this planet in the name of his health, this war, the welfare of others. He draws the line at a teenager rubbing his feet like he's some sick old man.

"Ll'do it," he says finally, and reaches his shaky hand out for her stupid potion.
littlemissfutility: (64)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-03-14 02:38 am (UTC)(link)
"Okay." She picks the poultice--still hot, wet, and pungent, but starting to cool a little--up and holds it out to him. Now, she's all hesitance, soft-spoken as she explains. "You can wrap it around your foot or put it on your chest."

The foot seemed a little more out of the way, but if he's this skittish just about being touched, maybe it's better that he keeps his boots on. He won't have to worry feverishly about if he has to get up later.
pigsfeet: (georgia fashion week)

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2017-03-14 02:52 am (UTC)(link)
If Daryl has to put a slimy rag on his chest to keep people from chipping away at him, he will. If only every deal could be this easy and simple. Some part of his wounded pride resurfaces-- of course she thought it was all your fault, of course she thought she had to fight you on it. You're a goddamn idiot stuffing a towel into your shirt. Who can ask for anything else from you?

He curls onto the cot, the rag sitting in his shirt without much finesse, and he finally lets his eyes close. He doesn't relax, not really, but he's getting closer. "You good?" Because it's her problem, not his.
littlemissfutility: (01)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-03-14 03:00 am (UTC)(link)
Beth watches, silent, and doesn't offer to help. Daryl's determined to do this to himself--let him. If it makes him feel better, what does it matter? Having those herby fumes up by his face might keep him from coughing so much, anyway. God knows these things smell strongly.

"Are you?" she asks, and for the first time since he showed back up, she doesn't sound mad. It's a genuine question, not a retort.

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