[ 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]

[ Rude, Byerly. Miles somehow manages not to twitch. ]

So you've moved on from casting aspersions on my sexuality. Are you done trying to piss me off, Vorrutyer?

[vorrutyer]

Aspersions? More like aspirations. It'd make you quite a bit less boring if you weren't so...obedient.

[dendarii]

[ Miles grimaces at the very thought. ]

Good thing I'm so damned boring then. Even if I were anything but straight, I'd not be interested in you.

[vorrutyer]

[ He smiles, world-weary, at the ceiling above his head. ]

Likewise. I assure you.

[dendarii]

Glad we've got that out of the way.

Any other commands, sir?

[vorrutyer]

[ His lips tighten in frustration, and he gives a gesture. Seriously, Miles. ]

[dendarii]

[ He's going to make you fire him within a day, just you wait. ]

Well?

[vorrutyer]

Well, don't call me sir. Which is a repeated command. Illyan fired you for incompetence, didn't he?

[dendarii]

[ Miles just gives a wide shrug. He's enjoying Byerly's annoyance too much. ]

I'm told I'm very hard on my COs.

[vorrutyer]

[ Byerly says, with a real burble of anger: ]

You're going to blow my cover, you idiot.

[dendarii]

Oh? So you are going to lie to Gran'da after all. I'm surprised.

[vorrutyer]

[ He rolls his eyes to the ceiling - and then switches over to Barrayaran French. A bit paranoid, perhaps, considering that they're well out of earshot of any of the others, but, well, it can't hurt. (He'd have liked to switch to Greek instead, as the odds of anyone being able to eavesdrop would go down further, but he does not know any Barrayaran Greek, because who the hell bothers to learn the Greekie hicks' language.) ]

No, Illyan. I'm going to lie to them.

[ A vague twitch of his chin takes in the other outsiders. ]

The General needs all the fighting force he can get. Having someone out here working to get them to like Barrayar a bit better might help with that.

[dendarii]

[ Rude, Byerly. French is definitely the worst of Miles' four languages, but he manages well enough. With a glare, anyway.

Miles doesn't much see the point in lying to the other outsiders - apart from the obvious one - but he'll begrudgingly concede it anyway. It may very well yield the results that Byerly wants, for very little risk. ]

By pretending to be a drunkard native who, what, got pulled in from the capital or something?

[vorrutyer]

[ By, meanwhile, speaks French like his mother tongue - which, given that his nanny spoke it, it might as well have been. ]

No. I'm not going along with your idiot plan to pretend to be from this time and planet.

[dendarii]

[ Now Miles is alarmed. ]

You're telling everyone you're a goddamned time traveller?

[vorrutyer]

Oh? Does the prospect scare you?

[dendarii]

[ It means there's no way he's going to keep this up for long. If the other obvious "native" is claiming to be a time traveller, how long will Miles' lie hold up? ]

I thought you were just telling the General. How the hell does that help you?

[vorrutyer]

I could use that apparent knowledge to inform them about Cetagandan atrocities. Easy enough.

[dendarii]

You can do that without being a time traveller, dammit. They've already subjugated enough worlds for us to pretend it's happened elsewhere.

[ Miles has been doing just that. ]

[vorrutyer]

And why are you so nervous about the prospect of me telling the truth?

[dendarii]

Because it forces my hand, Byerly. I can't pretend at this point that I don't know you.

[vorrutyer]

And why not? Perhaps we just began chatting because we were so desperate to talk to someone with a familiar accent.

[ He spreads his hands. ]

Or perhaps you might embrace the truth yourself.

[dendarii]

For the last time, I am not going to tell my grandfather what I am. Even if he believes me - god, what a terrible idea.

[vorrutyer]

So I should lie so that you don't have to confront the fact that you're shit-scared of your own grandfather. Glorious.

[ He sighs, then relents a little, offering: ]

I can say I'm from a parallel universe. At least that's not wholly a lie.

[dendarii]

[ Oh no. He's not letting that lie as-is. Because while he is terrified, it's not the only thing driving him. ]

I'm his grandson and his heir. Think for a moment what that means.