[ january i log: barrayar ]

[barrayarmods]

Who: Everyone
What: Arrival on Barrayar and what follows
When: January 2nd - January 17th
Where: Barrayaran guerrilla camp
Warnings: None (at the moment)


welcome to barrayar.
It's the dark of night when you come to in the foothills. Snow on the ground, chill winter wind whistling. 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 nine 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.

They're dressed in weather-worn green uniforms, bearing swords and bows, and they surround you immediately, poised to attack. But they quickly realize you're not their enemy, the ones they call Cetagandans. They're just as confused as you are, but rather than hanging around to puzzle it out, they start shepherding you toward their camp in the mountains while it's still dark. There's a war on, they say, and you unlucky bastards have just been dropped right smack in the middle of it.

the guerrilla camp
It's a few hours' hike through the mountains to get to their hidden camp, set up in a clearing framed by dense, hard forestry and backed against a rock face. Daylight is finally dawning when you make it there. You and your fellow sudden arrivals are ushered to an empty tent on the far end of the camp, just big enough to fit all ten of you. You can't help but notice they've posted guards all around it. You aren't under arrest – they just don't know what else to do with you.

You are able to glean, from hearsay and what the soldiers are willing to share with you, that you are on a planet called Barrayar, and this is their home, and ten years ago they were attacked without warning by the Cetagandan Empire. They've been holed up in the mountains fighting against their invaders ever since, outgunned and outmanned, but scoring little victories where they can. They don't tell you much more than that. Some dialect of Russian seems to be one of the predominant languages of the camp, but for the most part they all speak English too, if with an accent. They're gruff and wary, and if you look a little less – or more – than human, they'll eye you with suspicion, maybe even make obscure hex signs at you that seem intended to ward off evil or disease. But they aren't hostile to you, not unless you start something with them.

the outsiders' tent
It's not in the greatest shape, but if you look around the camp, the rest aren't much better off. It's cramped, but you've at least been provided with bedrolls and heavy wool blankets to ward off the frozen chill, and if you're in need of clothing, they'll provide it, although it probably hasn't been washed in…a while. The soldiers bring you food at mealtimes -- not very good food, mostly tough meat and groats, and they keep you your own campfire, just to keep you warm. They've also hastily dug you your own latrine area at the edge of the perimeter, just behind the treeline. No private bathroom stalls in this outfit, unfortunately. The entire camp seems tense and wary, and the soldiers are alert, but they don't talk much. You could try sneaking past them, but you probably won't get far.

Well, at least you've got each other for company: the outsiders on Barrayar.

Comments

[dendarii]

I smuggled myself off, obviously. Illegally. And had the intelligence not to return willingly.

[vorrutyer]

That's not obvious, because it's stupid. On what ship? When?

[dendarii]

The details aren't going to matter. He's got no way of checking even if he wanted to.

[vorrutyer]

Just say you're a galactic. Don't overcomplicate things.

[dendarii]

[ Too late for that. Miles presses his lips together stubbornly. ]

I can't pretend to be anything but Barrayaran in origin. I'm too well-versed with the area.

[vorrutyer]

[ He shakes his head. Vorkosigan wants to be found out, doesn't he? Honestly...Probably, yes. The man's psychology is damned transparent. Make enough of an effort at protecting his identity, force a reckoning. Most likely once he's proven himself in battle so that his sadist grandfather won't have any choice but to accept him. Sure.

Don't count on it, Vorkosigan. That old man murdered my aunt for less infidelity than this. Made it look like a suicide. He won't be best pleased. ]

And it's your opinion that I should lie, too? Pretend to be Byerly Illyan?

[dendarii]

[ That ... is basically what Miles hopes will happen. With rather more grim expectation of what will happen when Piotr finds him out. He doesn't expect acceptance at the end of all this either. ]

You could easily continue to be a Vorrutyer. There's more of your family alive now, my gran'da doesn't know you all quite as well, and you don't stick out the way I do. Easy enough to slide in.

[vorrutyer]

I greedily anticipate the day when he lops off my head for lying. That's how the Vorkosigans like to carry out their executions, correct? Beheadings?

[dendarii]

[ Miles snaps back: ]

He'll take your head off for ludicrous stories too. You won't manage anything with him if you tell him you're from the future.

[vorrutyer]

Then at least I'll be headless because he's an idiot, instead of being because I'm a liar.

[dendarii]

[ Miles just shakes his head. ]

I suppose you can do what you like. But you're an idiot too, Byerly.

[vorrutyer]

[ Dryly: ]

And you're a mutie. We work with what we have.

I want a list of the major guerrilla battles of this war.

[dendarii]

[ Miles grits his teeth again with a flash of anger. You don't get to call him that, dammit. ]

Anything else you'd like to rely on my cryorevived memory for?

[vorrutyer]

Oh, certainly. Perhaps a bit of recall, also, of the fact that your woe-is-me routine isn't going to fall on particularly sympathetic ears. In addition to being an idiot, I'm also not much of a sentimentalist.

[dendarii]

If you think I'm a man who enjoys pity, you're direly mistaken. I'm only giving you a fair warning.

[vorrutyer]

Don't try to use it as an excuse to edit your information.

[dendarii]

[ MIles' gaze is frigid. ]

I wouldn't sabotage Barrayar like that.

[vorrutyer]

Oh, good.

[ By arches an eyebrow. ]

Glad to see your patriotism is in there. Was it just dozing a bit?

[dendarii]

You're still a goddamn idiot. But if you're going to pass Gran'da information I may as well make sure it's accurate.

[vorrutyer]

Unless you wanted me out of the putative chain of command, of course.

[ The corner of his mouth lifts in a smile that's all the more horrifying for the fact that it's genuinely rather amused. Because what's funner than a joke about covert and dishonorable modes of horrifying assassination? ]

Though that's not something you Galactic Affairs boys would think of, is it? Your lot has always been straightforward.

[dendarii]

[ Miles just looks straight up horrified at the thought. ]

What chain of command? We have no one to even report to. What the hell would I gain.

[vorrutyer]

Well, if you think I'm going to bugger up the space-time continuum, it'd be a quick way of making sure that didn't happen. Obviously.

[dendarii]

Much easier to just kill you, in that case.

[vorrutyer]

Oh, no question. But then there would be questions. Why, what reason, what did he do, and then the story starts to come out. This would be clean.

[dendarii]

[ Miles just shakes his head a bit at that. ]

You're too damn twisty for your own good, Vorrutyer.