[ 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]

A small smile touches Sonia's face. "I suppose. Thank you." It seems to be the appropriate thing to say, one survivor to another. Mostly it's just been tiring is what she almost says, but just thinking that makes her tired. She keeps the smile instead.

"The village nearby is nice," she says diffidently. "The hill villages always are. It's not like they're not affected, but, you know -- they still have their daily lives...they're still living like they always have. It's just nice to...see that life goes on, sometimes."

[littlemissfutility]

There's not much else to say, not least when they can look at each other with a tired sort of understanding born of too much time spent fighting. One look at Sonia's face tells Beth she's not alone.

"It's easier to keep going when there aren't a lot of you." Atlanta is like a sprawling ghost town but their prison--well, for a while, their prison was a living community. Even if it was more like roommates in a huge house (in which everyone had cells instead of rooms), it was probably closer to a village than anything else she's seen since the turn. "It sounds nice."

Her voice turns pensive. "Guess it'll be a while before we see it, huh?"

[vorbratta]

Sonia presses her lips together. "I'm not sure," she admits slowly. Piotr doesn't want the outsiders knowing anything crucial, not yet, but Sonia's not sure she really knows anything crucial. "I mean, I don't think Count Vorkosigan means to keep you under guard forever or anything. But I don't know what he does mean to do."

[littlemissfutility]

"Which one is he?" she asks, trying to remember all the guards and soldiers who've poked their heads in the tent. There have been enough that she hasn't been anywhere close to getting all their names--and even if she had, none of them referred to each other as Count Vorkosigan.

[vorbratta]

"I think you'd know him if you saw him," Sonia says, rubbing her cheek. "He's sort of hard to miss. It's not that he looks a particular way or anything, just...you know how some people, when they walk into a room, everything just kind of stops for a second?"

[littlemissfutility]

"Yeah." In her experience, it's usually not a good thing when someone does that. It means they're dangerous. She shrugs, adding, "Maybe he hasn't come to see us yet."

[vorbratta]

Sonia shakes her head. "He hasn't, no. The Countess has been by a few times, though -- she's hard to miss, too. Always wearing her husband's greatcoat -- she practically swims in it, but she manages to make it look dignified."

Her sister manages to make almost anything look dignified. Count Piotr -- dignity, sure, but he was mostly hard-faced and, at times, terrifying. "The General Count's a busy man, but I'd be surprised if he never came by at all. Although," she adds, making a face, "you're not missing much."

[littlemissfutility]

Beth's seen the countess around, she realizes, and nods in recognition. When it comes to the General Count, she laughs a little. The face Sonia makes gives her a younger look; as weary as the war must have made her, it hasn't broken her.

"Some people are too busy to be interesting." She doesn't know a lot of them, these days, but the kind of war they fought at home was a very different one. "Guess he's one."

[vorbratta]

"Mmm." Sonia's lips twist, and she wobbles her hand in ambivalence. "It's not that he's not interesting. The Countess thinks he must be, anyway." She smiles wryly, then scrunches her nose. "No, he's just such a stuffed shirt. You'd think he's twice as old as he looks. He's always so -- " She makes a face in impersonation of Piotr's usual hard-faced, impassive look, brows drawn down and lips pursed. Mostly, it just looks funny on Sonia.