[ 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]

[ That's enough to make Miles shiver with revulsion too. God. He'd sooner kill himself before permitting that too. But he still doesn't agree with Byerly's method. ]

What do you propose we do, sir?

[ He loads that one syllable with as much fuck you as he possibly can. ]

[vorrutyer]

Start by not blowing each other's cover, Illyan.

[ He holds out his hand and makes a quelling, downward gesture. Don't get funny. No sirs. ]

I'm no one's sir.

[dendarii]

You're the one who wants to be my commanding officer.

[ But - well, they've probably attracted enough attention with Milies' little attempted fistfight. He reluctantly swallows down what he was going to say next. ]

What else do you propose we do?

[vorrutyer]

[ By drags the heel of his hand along his cheekbone, trying to wipe away some bit of grime there. Hah. Of all the things he expected, Miles Vorkosigan getting cooperative wasn't one of them. It's almost delightful in its unexpected novelty. Of course, the problem with being in charge, such as it is, is that you have to be the one to make decisions. And he has no idea what to do.

Shit. Is it too late to pitch himself headfirst off one of those cliffs he'd seen earlier? Beautiful cliffs, those. No, his fear of heights would keep him getting too close to the edge, he knows. What an idiotic thing a phobia is. I want to use this to die, but I can't, because inside my brain it triggers my fear of dying. Ah, well; life it is. ]

Convince me of your reasons that we shouldn't tell the General about our situation. Aside from the fact that you're scared of the General.

[dendarii]

[ And Miles is here to watch him for mistakes every step of the way. And be a general thorn in his side. As Miles tends to do.

Speaking of which, Byerly gets a slight eyeroll at that. ]

If you knew him like I do, you'd be nervous too. This is a desperate time, Byerly. You really think you can walk in there and just tell him you're from the future?

[vorrutyer]

[ Byerly's lips press together in annoyance. He is annoyed to have to say this to Vorkosigan. Because it sounds stupid and idealistic, and if anyone has not fucking earned a moment of hearing him when being stupid and idealistic, it's a damned Vorkosigan. But. Well. ]

It's the truth. If you're committed to the truth, you can't be committed by halves. [ Even when it's unpleasant. Even when it'll get you hanged by the balls from supports of the Great General's war tent. He continues on, with statements a little less close to his heart: ] You went to the military academy. I don't know what you honorable boys got up to there, but I bet part of it was battle history. You know how half this war went. Don't you think that could be useful?

[dendarii]

[ Miles continues on stubbornly. He is convinced that his way is the right way, even if it does involve lying a little bit. Byerly doesn't have quite the same personal stake in it that Miles does, after all. ]

I do know how this war went. Exceptionally, personally well. [ He levels a stare at Byerly. ] Tell me, Byerly, at what point did interlopers from different worlds and times suddenly appear in the camp? What year was that?

[vorrutyer]

Oh, Illyan, you know my Vor honor prevents me from helping proles cheat on their exams.

[ He can't even give that the saccharine sweetness he would under normal circumstances. ]

I'll grant I surely haven't watched the number of holodramas you doubtless have - I peg you for a child raised on a steady diet of the falsehoods of Vorthalia the Bold, Hero of Barrayar - but my impression of time travel is that the smallest change can cause ripple effects. If time were going to be altered by our being here, then the both of us already should have winked out of existence. Meaning that either it's not going to be altered because the flow of time is inevitable, or we're in a parallel timeline anyway.

[ Byerly...might slightly be overstating the number of holodramas he didn't watch. He...All right, he had a fondness for them, back in his younger days. ]

[dendarii]

[ Overcompensating much, Byerly? Miles folds his arms over his chest. ]

That's still not my point. We have no idea what changes have already happened and how that affects the new history. Our information may not be good any more, for starters. And given how extremely difficult this was to win in the first place - you really think changing the balance is going to help Barrayar?

[vorrutyer]

[ Byerly purses his lips. Vorkosigan is...irritatingly Vorish, in By's experience - one of those tiresome bores who acts like their names mean anything aside from inbreeding and nastiness and unearned superiority. The outcome, surely, of being of a largely-dead clan. He doesn't realize quite how vile their class truly is. This, of course, has the advantage of potentially making him easy to manipulate. And so he goes right for the heart: ]

I'll admit, I'm surprised. And here you have the possibility of saving the whole population of Vorkosigan Vashnoi. You're really not interested in that?

[dendarii]

[ Miles clenches his teeth at that. Of course he wants to save Vorkosigan Vashnoi. And the rest of his dead family, for that matter. He could do it, he's sure of it ...

But he shakes his head sharply. ]

We can't, Byerly. God only knows how that will affect things. If not the war itself, then the politics afterwards.

[vorrutyer]

That's really your excuse? We can't take risks because we might screw it up?

[ By regards Miles with a lifted eyebrow. Now, he never got this whole story. Rumors of Vorkosigan getting sacked in disgrace had filtered down to him through some of his contacts - not, of course, through the inimitable Lady Alys, but through some of the others. Eyes ripped off had been the rumor. And then Illyan's illness, and then the sudden Auditorship, and the whole story had been lost. But this...This is a different Vorkosigan than the one who'd confronted him those months ago. ]

Why did Illyan fire you?

[dendarii]

[ Miles goes utterly still at that, a dangerous light in his eyes. His eyes half-lid as he regards his cousin venomously. ]

You're from my future. Why don't you tell me?

[vorrutyer]

[ By meets Miles' eyes directly, not flinching from that dangerous look in the least. Grand Vorrutyer family tradition, that, stoking the fires of a Vorkosigan's rage. ]

Oh, it was all hushed up. Besides which, rumors of it wouldn't ever have reached the lowly ears of a humble town clown. How are we to keep track of the comings and goings of you service boys? There are so many of you.

[dendarii]

[ Doing an admirable job of it, really. Miles is certainly all fired up now. ]

Don't play dumb, Byerly. Either you know and you're goading me, or you don't and you're distracting me. I won't give you the satisfaction.

Telling General Vorkosigan what is going to happen is a bad idea, period. Personally, tactically, and historically speaking. Better to lie low and use our information to aid the resistance with some degree of subtlety.

[vorrutyer]

Subtlety. And what sort of subtlety are you looking for? Hiding beneath a rock so the Great General doesn't notice you and attempt some late-stage infanticide?

[dendarii]

[ Miles rolls his eyes again at that. ]

As if I could hide anywhere. He'll know I'm here, yes. But he can't know who I am. Trust me, all Vorkosigans are currently accounted for.

[vorrutyer]

And I still don't understand how being a prole will protect you from having your throat cut.

[dendarii]

What do you propose I pass myself off as? Another Vorrutyer?

[vorrutyer]

Heaven forfend. You haven't the panache.

[dendarii]

[ Miles snorts a bit at that. ]

Being prole is ideal. Being Vor in any capacity invites questions about why the hell I was permitted to live. A single stubborn prole family with no legacy to live up to is much more believable.

[vorrutyer]

Have you ever actually met a prole?

[dendarii]

Of course I have. If you're really ImpSec, then surely you know of a few of my missions.

[ They may not be Barrayaran proles but they're still, y'know, not nobility in the slightest. ]

[vorrutyer]

[ For once, he doesn't bother to pretend to play dumb. ]

Galactics are different from proles.

[dendarii]

[ Well that answers one question. No need to play coy with his adventures around Byerly, at least. ]

Then I'll be perfectly fine acting like them. I've been off-planet long enough. And it's still less dangerous than claiming to be a goddamn Vorkosigan.