barrayarmods: (Default)
For Barrayar mods ([personal profile] barrayarmods) wrote in [community profile] forbarrayar2016-12-20 10:13 am

[ january i log: cetaganda ]

Who: Everyone
What: Arrival on Barrayar and what follows
When: January 2nd - January 17th
Where: Cetagandan base
Warnings: None (at the moment)


welcome to barrayar.
It's the dark of night when you come to beyond the foothills. Snow on the ground, chill winter wind whistling. A steep mountain range towers overhead, its peaks illuminated by the light of two moons, and the foothills behind you ascend quickly into rocky mountain faces. 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 fitted with what look like futuristic tactical vests and armed with some kind of energy weapons that look deadlier than not. They surround you at gunpoint, dealing orders in intelligible English, but with some obscure, unplaceable accent, and their faces are colored with vivid paint. It quickly becomes apparent, however, that you are not the people they at first assumed -- something about Barrayarans, the barbarians in the mountains. The one who seems to be in charge steps away to murmur into what looks like a wristwatch-like communicator. After a minute or two of inaudible conversation, the officer steps back in. He orders his men to escort you all back to their base. As long as you cooperate, that's all that will happen.


the base
You are taken back to a military base of considerable scale and some serious fortification. There are two rounds of guard checks to go through, both taking what must be a lot longer than usual, and it's cold out. You are ushered past the guard checks into what looks like a barracks building, but relegated to a bunk on one end. They seem to have cleared the immediate area, with guards posted at the door, but there's audible activity beyond the short hallway in front of the door. They make it clear you are not under arrest, that you are merely being detained until they have ascertained the situation -- the word quarantine is used, but it doesn't seem to be of a medical sort. Either way, the only people who come to the bunk are those cleared by the guards, and they all seem much more interested than hostile.

They answer your questions with the very basic facts: the people who hold custody of you are the military service of the Cetagandan Empire, and the planet you are on is their Ninth Satrapy, and they're currently at odds with some of the native population. They won't say it outright, but it's clear they have no clue how you came to be here or why, but it's clearly of great interest to them. For the most part, the Cetagandan soldiers are civil, if at times distant and aloof, but if you look a little less -- or more -- than human, they'll eye you with visible curiosity, perhaps even some kind of appreciation.

At daylight, a few women in lab coats and the same face-paint as the soldiers come to the room to escort you across the base to the nearby medbay, two or three at a time. The medbay is an intimidatingly sterile and state-of-the-art facility, all gleaming chrome and polished glass and crisp holo displays. You are taken in one at a time for a physical examination -- they have to make sure you haven't brought any foreign contagions into their base, after all -- but the military physician isn't the only base personnel in the exam room. You hear the word exotic tossed around a few times until they realized they're talking about you. They call you the exotics.


the exotics room
For a military bunk, it's in surprisingly tasteful design. The room sleeps a dozen soldiers, so you even have a little bit of room to yourself, and while the furnishings are relatively spartan, they're hardly uncomfortable. If you're in need of clothing, the soldiers will bring you base fatigues – no rank insignia, of course, but the make of the textile is surprisingly fine.

You're served food at mealtimes, a combination of shelf-stable meal rations and what seems to be fresh food, all prepared with unusual artistry for a military base. There's a sophistication to the preparation that seems more like it belongs in a four-star restaurant than a military base. If you have any special medical needs, they'll do their best to attend to them -- and their medicine seems impressively advanced.

Soldiers and scientists alike come to the room every so often to ask you questions, more like interviews than interrogations, but behind the civility there's a burning intellectual curiosity. They seem intent on knowing as much as you'll tell them, and then some.

The nearest bathroom is at the end of the hall, and while they seem to have cleared the area of all other personnel, showers and baths are scheduled, and any trips to the restroom are chaperoned. The guards, while not hostile, are certainly not interested in letting you escape. You could try sneaking past them, but you probably won't get far.

Well, at least you've got each other for company: the exotics on the Ninth Satrapy.
eugengineer: (pic#10725593)

[personal profile] eugengineer 2017-01-03 07:04 pm (UTC)(link)
The facepaint mostly conceals the CMO's slight frown at Ratchet, and he nods slightly at one of the med techs, who fetches a thermal blanket to drape over Ratchet. Diya's thin eyebrows raise slightly.

"I find it unlikely you would be familiar with our equipment." The Cetagandans borrow plenty from the Nexus, but their medical equipment is quite proprietary.

"I'm sure," the CMO says pointedly, "that as a medical professional, you understand the importance of a complete medical history."
asafepairofhands: (human - tired)

[personal profile] asafepairofhands 2017-01-05 01:30 am (UTC)(link)
Ratchet nods wary thanks to the medtech, and though he's warmer, the tremors only subside a little. He tries not to flinch every time his skin touches something, which is all the time, just for the sake of being able to carry on a conversation and not seem like he's having some sort of seizure.

"As a medical professional, I also understand the importance of patient privacy," he says, just as pointedly, too-blue eyes narrowing on her painted face. "And the value of being able to choose one's caregivers. Now, I don't think you know why I'm here any more than I do, unless I'm sorely mistaken, but I'm still a very private person and would appreciate keeping some things to myself."
eugengineer: (pic#10725608)

[personal profile] eugengineer 2017-01-05 01:41 am (UTC)(link)
Diya blinks slowly at Ratchet. "This is not a hospital; it is a military base. These examinations are as much for our benefit as they are yours." The light passes in bands over her sleek hair as she moves forward to look at an instrument readout. "As a medical professional, what would you do in our situation? People from other worlds, other universes, people you know nothing about -- wouldn't you want to examine them before letting them loose in a secure facility, verify that they pose no potential risk to your own staff?"
asafepairofhands: (human - unsure)

[personal profile] asafepairofhands 2017-01-10 12:49 am (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, I noticed what the facility is for," Ratchet says, his voice thin and dry as he settles back, trying to still himself. "You'll notice I didn't object to the physical. I understand the need to protect your people. But if you're insisting that this is a military base and not a hospital, that implies that this is an interrogation and not a medical exam, does it not?"
eugengineer: (pic#10725599)

[personal profile] eugengineer 2017-01-10 03:17 am (UTC)(link)
"Do you not consider taking a medical history part of a medical exam?" Diya looks and sounds a little incredulous. The hostility is entirely undeserved. The CMO is eyeing Ratchet with equal skepticism too, his mouth twisted.

"You act like we're asking anything unreasonable. Age, place of birth, allergies, any other preexisting medical conditions -- is this not routine at your medical practice?"