[ 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]

"All the ones I've spoken to were perfectly civilized," Sonia protests with a slight pout, but she's glad for that but, and she smiles. "They are a good bunch, aren't they? I mean, all things considered...it could be a lot worse. And," she adds, with much merit, "some of them are really friendly."

[truevor]

"It will take more than 'really friendly' to win this war." Olivia says, raising one eyebrow at her sister. "I suppose you have a few in particular that have caught your eye?" In more ways than one, she supposes. That would be a problem to tackle later -- once they have a better handle on the outsiders.

[vorbratta]

"They're not all soldiers," Sonia says with a slight frown. "Count Piotr isn't going to draft them, is he? But," she adds, trying to bite down on a smile, "I did meet this girl Beth. The little blonde one. She's very sweet, and -- well, where she comes from, things aren't any better than they are here."

Which means she understands, and that's rare in a peer for Sonia. Hell, peers at all are rare. But she sips at her tea and taps her booted feet against the ground. "You've probably met Miles, haven't you? The mutant. The soldiers have been giving him a hard time, but he's really a very nice man. A little funny, though."

[truevor]

"Piotr will do what he feels is best for Barrayar," Olivia counters. "Not as if there's been enough time to give them more than a passing thought."

'Things aren't any better than they are here' is a damning statement, and one that gets Olivia to wonder. What sort of world could that be, if this is similar? As for Miles, well. "Illyan and I have met, yes. I offered him a chance to talk to Piotr -- he seems... very convinced that his place is to fight for us."

[vorbratta]

"As well it should be," Sonia says in adamant agreement. "Good. Count Piotr should hear him out. He seemed like a very clever man to me. He made me laugh." She beams, as though this alone qualifies him for consideration. "Oh, and the other Barrayaran -- Byerly -- he's really very entertaining as well. Just a delight."

[truevor]

"That," and Olivia's tone turns sharper, "is not the word I would use to describe him." What word would be better, she doesn't know. But he's slippery, hard to hold onto, and Olivia has the annoying impression that he does it on purpose. It's infuriating.

[vorbratta]

Sonia purses her lips at her sister. "Of course you don't like him. He's not your kind of people, Livvy. But I like him."

[truevor]

"I do not think he is anyone's kind of people," is her tight lipped response. She does not tell Sonia that she suspects that is on purpose, but she surely thinks it every time she sees him. "I would have hoped your tastes would have changed to be far more refined than some town clown."

[vorbratta]

Sonia frowns, almost a pout, looking stubborn and a little resentful.

"He's my kind of people," Sonia declares. Let's face it, Olivia, her tastes are never going to improve. "He's funny. And he's nice to me. And -- and he doesn't treat me like a princess."

Mostly because she hasn't yet told him, because Sonia is loath to the idea that the outsiders might skirt away from her because of her status before she's barely gotten a chance to know them. But she knows Byerly is clever. He might well have figured it out by now.

[truevor]

All things that would make her very fond of him, Olivia realizes. As if he'd created himself just for Sonia's tastes. It isn't reassuring, it's damned suspicious. Had that been what he'd tried on her, when they first met? Only to find himself having blundered when she had no interest in him or his flirtations.

Olivia taps a finger against her table, frowning. "It seems a strange thing, to come across someone so uniquely your people here, does it not? Regardless, while I am glad you've found more than one person of interest -- take care. We don't fully understand them yet."

[vorbratta]

Sonia narrows her eyes, not particularly liking the level of suspicion Olivia clearly holds.

"What did he do?"

[truevor]

"Flirt. And then, when that did not seem to put him in my graces, backtracked most ungracefully. He is a Vorrutyer, and our family owes his a great many debts over the years, but him?" Olivia gives a dismissive wave, as if brushing him out of mind. "What game he's playing at is unknown, but I would put marks down on there being one."

[vorbratta]

Sonia actually lets out a laugh at that, half surprise, half delight. She claps her hands together. "Did he really? ​Oh, I'd really like to have seen that..."

But her laughter trails off and she looks at her sister with pursed lips. "Why don't you believe there are other people like me?"