[ 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

[vorbratta]

Sonia follows his gaze and then brightens. "Oh, Byerly? Yes, I've met him. Very entertaining man, but he didn't strike me as particularly trustworthy. But if you think you can trust him..."

[dendarii]

She's met him already? Miles' expression instantly sours despite his best efforts. "What did he say to you? Nothing insulting, I hope."

[vorbratta]

Sonia laughs outright. "Heavens, no. A little impudent, but all in jest. He was quite amusing, actually. Possibly the most interesting conversation I've had in the last two years."

Unfortunately, not much of an overstatement as it sounds like. But she looks thoroughly entertained. Sorry, Miles, your treasured great aunt and Byerly fucking Vorrutyer get along like houses on fire.

"Oh," Sonia says suddenly, leaning over to pat Miles on the arm quickly, "but don't tell him who I am -- please? I don't know if he's figured it out yet." The grin on her face is utterly impish.

[dendarii]

Good. Miles might just consider going back on that oath not to murder Byerly if that had been the case. Even so, his hackles go up a bit. It's a damn good thing she's enjoying herself...

"I - I mean, if that's what you want," he says quite reluctantly. "I thought he was sharper than that, but apparently not."

[vorbratta]

"Oh, he might have," Sonia says breezily, waving a hand, "but don't tell him. It's funnier if he's still guessing." The grin she directs at Miles is encouraging, as if to say and you get to be in on the joke, too.

"He'll find out eventually anyway. He's not stupid, and I'm not a secret. So I'm just going to enjoy it while I can." After a moment she adds, a little less flippantly, "Sometimes it's nice not to be treated like a princess."

[dendarii]

He can't very well resist that, can he? And his great aunt is still a friendly face even if she still has no idea who Miles is. He lets himself relax somewhat.

"All right, all right. I admit I'd enjoy seeing that too." Just in case Byerly somehow hasn't recognized the woman. That's a happy thought. "I would have thought you'd get less of that treatment now, though. Given the situation."

[vorbratta]

Sonia looks enormously pleased at Miles's cooperation, clapping her hands together. Oh, even better. No doubt that Byerly's quite clever, but Miles seems like he could give Byerly a run for his money.

But then she sighs and sits back, pulling a face. "No, all that's changed with the situation is what clothes I'm wearing and where I'm sleeping. A little bit less decorum now that I live in a war camp, sure, but if anything, it's gotten worse. It feels like it, anyway."

The last ten years are the longest consecutive time she's ever spent on Barrayar on her life, by a long shot. Sometimes as long as a year at a time in her childhood, sure, but most of her time was spent on Beta Colony. Sonia frowns.

"My sister and I were in Vorbarr Sultana when the Cetagandans came. I was thirteen -- a child, something to be protected. As far as they're concerned, I still am." She rolls her eyes. "Like I said. Mascot."

[dendarii]

Excuse you, Miles could run circles around his Vorrutyer counterpart. Please.

But that's not the actual topic of discussion here, is it. Ten years on Barrayar, stuck in a horrific war and feeling like one can do no better than stand around and be a mascot? Gregor had had enough trouble with the same emotion even with some real power to go with it. His aunt must be feeling at least as poorly.

"You were young then," he says, gently. "But not now. You just need an opportunity to prove that you're not a child any more."

[vorbratta]

Sonia huffs out a breath through her nose, looking frustrated, and buries her hands in her hair. "Like what? What is there for me to do? They'll hardly let me do anything. And I don't want to be some -- lady warrior," she says, receding a little bit. She tangles her fingers together in her lap, staring at the grass peeking through the snow at her feet.

"I don't think -- " She stops, bites the inside of her cheek. "I couldn't do that anyway."

[dendarii]

"I don't think that ought to hold you back," say Miles, thinking hard. He'll respect her proclaimed intent not to want to be a warrior, but... "There are other things. You could be a tactician. You could organize supplies. Gather information."

[vorbratta]

Sonia lets out a dry laugh at you could be a tactician, shaking her head. "If you think Count Piotr would let me anywhere near his war tent -- pfff." She waves that thought off, not looking much consoled.

"And I don't get to leave camp without an escort. I just...always seem to be getting under someone's feet, or in the way. And..." She gestures helplessly, grasping at air. "You know how Barrayarans are. Everything is about men. The only thing that'll make me less of a child in their eyes is getting married. And that's not happening."

[dendarii]

He can't really deny that. His own mother hadn't gotten a damned modicum of respect until she'd dumped a severed head in the middle of the war table. Even his own father had underestimated her.

"Prove them wrong," he says fiercely. "We'll have enough opportunities to do so in this kind of situation."

[vorbratta]

Sonia looks heartened by that some, but some part of her still seems reluctant, tentative. She opens her mouth, seems to think the better of it, and then purses her lips, shaking her head. "Maybe," is all she says with a half-shrug. She amends for it with a small smile. "You will, I'm certain of it. I'll make sure of it."

[dendarii]

Miles is stubborn on this one. Mostly because it's his issue too. "No, we both will. I'll help you."

[vorbratta]

There's something about Miles that almost reminds her of Count Piotr, except he's worlds more pleasant. And funny. And right now, extremely, almost terrifyingly confident in her. Sonia's breath escapes her, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. "How? You don't want that liability."

[dendarii]

Strange. It's almost as though they could be related, eh? Must be the Vorkosigan District look. Certainly Miles has the same fire in his eyes that General Vorkosigan sometimes gets.

"Liability? You? You're no such thing."

[vorbratta]

Sonia scoffs, cheeks puffed. "Be serious, Miles. Who do you think is the biggest liability in this camp? And even if not to them, surely to you."

[dendarii]

He's serious, dammit. And he's not letting up. "You aren't. You're protecting me now, aren't you?"

[vorbratta]

"Yes," Sonia says, frowning, and draws her wool coat around her shoulders more tightly. The man is relentless. He just...has a way about him. She bites her lip. "But that's not -- it isn't at any risk to me.