[ 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]

Shut up. If you won't tell me, I'll just figure it out myself.

[vorrutyer]

You and what fast-penta?

[dendarii]

I'll pick some up the next time I'm in the Cetagandan base.

[vorrutyer]

Which you're not going to, because you're too memorable.

[dendarii]

So we're agreed, then. Good.

[vorrutyer]

[ By sighs, rubbing at his eyes. ]

If I were to move over to the Cetagandan side...It wouldn't be easy, you know.

[dendarii]

[ Miles nods at that thoughtfully. ]

Best with the general's blessing if you can manage that. Otherwise you won't make it back in one piece.

[vorrutyer]

Just so. I'd sooner not be the first of your grandfather's Vorrutyer casualties. To say nothing of how much intel from a defector would be trusted, which is to say: not at all.

[dendarii]

[ A wince. For all that they've argued back and forth here, Miles very much does not want Byerly dead. ]

Then you definitely need his trust first. I still think the time travel story is going to go over poorly, but ... [ Given it's Byerly's skin on the line, it's Byerly's decision. ] I'll get you what information I remember from the Academy. Wish Galeni was here.

[vorrutyer]

Hm. Well - if you'd like to know my thought process - history won't have diverged too much. At least not yet. So if we anticipate and foil a few Cetagandan attacks - we can say it's through native wit rather than forewarning, if you would like, which ought to please you, a bit of late-in-life approval from your barbarian ancestor - we should be able to build up a bit of trust.

[dendarii]

[ Miles twitches a bit but - well, he can't really deny wanting approval from his grandfather. Dammit. ]

All right. Let's try that. It'll have the added benefit of actively helping the resistance.

[vorrutyer]

Oh, no comments now about the space-time continuum? Astonishing how that concern suddenly disappeared.

[dendarii]

[ Rather flatly: ]

I've never been against the thought of helping. Just not too much.

[vorrutyer]

Unless glory's in the offing.

[dendarii]

Wanting my grandfather to trust me is important. Because when all this nonsense eventually comes out, he needs to believe I was his choice and not just a necessity.

[ For reasons that are totally not personal and/or ulterior in nature. ]

[vorrutyer]

Well, I'll admit that I also prefer that he not murder you.

[dendarii]

Glad we agree on that point.

[vorrutyer]

Not that it wouldn't be a bit satisfying, of course.

[dendarii]

Ah, the joys of dealing with Vorrutyers. Let's just stick a pin in that particular thought.

[vorrutyer]

Now, now, don't be unfair. You've pruned more of our family tree than we've pruned yours.

[dendarii]

Let's not add to it then, eh? Neither of us have done anything of the sort.

[ A beat. ]

Unless you have a confession to make.

[vorrutyer]

[ He arches his eyebrows at Miles. ]

Missing any relatives lately? I don't have the impression that you have enough that you can just forget about a few of them.

[dendarii]

A lot can happen in a year, I'm sure. Especially if I'm murdering people.

[vorrutyer]

And whom do you speculate I would have murdered? The Viceroy? The Vicereine? Your clone?

[dendarii]

[ Snapping instantly: ]

My brother. And dear god, if you even thought of hurting any of them, you're stupider than I thought.