[ 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

[vorrutyer]

[ His mouth tightens even further. ]

How?

[ How did it happen. How can time travel happen. ]

[dendarii]

I haven't the slightest idea. [ Miles shakes his head. For once it's not his fault. ] But it's the only explanation that makes sense.

[vorrutyer]

It doesn't make sense.

[dendarii]

Oh? And you think Cetaganda invading right under our noses does make sense?

[vorrutyer]

[ His jaw works a moment in frustration. Finally: ]

And so how does being a prole help you?

[dendarii]

[ Miles just gestures at. Well. All of this. And then back down at himself. ]

No Vor lord from this time period would keep me. And even if they did, I would be incredibly distinctive. I'd be ridiculously suspicious from the start.

[vorrutyer]

And?

[ He settles back against the crate behind his back. ]

You want to pretend to be from this time...why?

[dendarii]

[ Miles just stares back at his distant cousin. ]

Picture my grandfather interrogating us.

[vorrutyer]

[ He looks to the side and pitches his voice a little lower. This reference to his secret role should not, after all, be overheard. ]

Well. We live to serve.

[dendarii]

[ Wait. What? Did he just hear that coming out of Byerly Vorrutyer's mouth? He stares back at the other man quite hard. ]

What the hell are you talking about?

[vorrutyer]

[ A quick, confused quirk of his eyebrows, and he meets Vorkosigan's eyes. It's not hard to figure out. If they have knowledge about the course of history - if they could help the course of the war - ]

Don't you think the Great General could use what we know?

[dendarii]

[ That's not the part he's confused about. He gives Byerly a withering look. ]

The Great General didn't have what we know. God only knows how that will affect things. [ His voice drops to a whisper. ] Leave this to an actual member of ImpSec, Byerly.

[vorrutyer]

[ His lips part. For a moment, he's genuinely taken aback. What - ?

Time travel. If Vorkosigan's guess is right - which it can't be - nothing says that they'd be from the same time. Right? Perhaps. And so his mouth closes again, and his eyes narrow just a bit. He replies with arch mockery, seeing what reaction he can provoke: ]

And you are an actual member of ImpSec?

[dendarii]

[ That stings rather hard. The wound is still fresh, and this Miles hasn't yet found his way yet. Not even the look of surprise on Byerly's face is enough to blunt it. ]

Until recently. Yes.

[vorrutyer]

Until recently hardly counts.

[ He smirks at Miles, arching his eyebrows at him. ]

You can hardly get scanned into ImpSec HQ using the holes in your collar where the Eyes of Horus used to be. And you don't have any other source of authority to break in, do you?

[ Probing to see whether - well. Whether, as he suspects, Vorkosigan does not remember his Auditorial authority. ]

[dendarii]

[ Indeed, he does not. That glower on his face tells the whole damn story. ]

Doing so would get me killed. I can't identify myself a Vorkosigan here.

[vorrutyer]

I think - [ Byerly proclaims, leaning his head back against the crates behind him and closing his eyes - ] You have a persecution complex, Vorkosigan.

[dendarii]

[ Miles makes the most frustrated noise he can muster. ]

And you're a self-involved fop, as always. Why do I even bother?

[vorrutyer]

[ Byerly clucks in disapproval. ]

A self-involved fop? Surely you can do better than that. I've heard wittier insults from my hideous cousin Richars, and he's always looked up to the likes of - [ What's a name that'll draw a real twitch out of Vorkosigan, some name that'll make him flinch if he's lying to By about his lack of knowledge - Ah. ] Etienne Vorsoisson for a model of good humor.

[ And By watches his little cousin to see if the man shows any sign of recognition. ]

[dendarii]

[ Utter and complete blankness. Miles has never heard of the man. What he does sense is that he's being tested here. How, he has no idea, but something is weird, dammit. ]

What aren't you telling me.

[vorrutyer]

[ Ha. Well. More than anything else, more than their surroundings, that convinces By that Vorkosigan's theory is true. He saw the man during that whole debacle with the poor widow. The man wasn't able to control his shudders and twitches when Vorsoisson's name came up. No...No, truly, he doesn't know. So either he hit his head hard enough to lose his memory but not hard enough to die (which, honestly, if anyone could do that, a Vorkosigan could, they were slamming their heads into things enough that statistically that ought to happen at some point) or he truly does come from a different time. ]

Oh - [ Mockingly: ] So many things. Most of them unkind, I'm afraid. Shall I get started on them? I'd be delighted to.

[dendarii]

[ Miles, meanwhile, is just getting more confused. And irritated. And he is still more hungover than he wants to be right now, dammit. ]

Spare me most of that. Who the hell is Etienne Vorsoisson? And why do you think I ought to know him?

[vorrutyer]

A famous bad wit.

[ Byerly lies smoothly. Competently. And he arches his brows at Vorkosigan, saying - ]

You really don't know much of the social scene, do you? Well - you'll have time to learn now, won't you? I suppose you'll become a town clown yourself after your ImpSec discharge.

[dendarii]

[ A shudder goes through Miles at the very thought. ]

Like hell. I'd sooner kill myself.

[vorrutyer]

[ He gives a fluting laugh. ]

Ooh. What that one lacks in cleverness it makes up for in cruelty. Not bad, Lord Vorillyan.