[ january i log: cetaganda ]

[barrayarmods]

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.

Comments

i'm sorry i keep losing this sjfhjsdhks

[infailtration]

"This way we owe them something, maybe we'd feel obligated to help out. Weird that they didn't even ask about combat experience or anything, though. Not me, at least." He wouldn't consider himself a boon, certainly not in his current state. Still. Others could be.

York gives Duv another look and reaches across the table, his hand still a little shaky as he does. "I'm York."

[komarran]

"They didn't ask about much in the way of experience. If they want to slot us in where we'd be useful, they're wasting their chance." More than likely they have no idea what to do with the group of them and need the time to readjust. As frivolous as the Cetagandans can be, they were still as much a military force as a cultural one.

He eyes York's hand a moment before accepting it in a firm, brief shake. "Duv Galeni."

[infailtration]

"Good to meet you." His grip is strong even if his hand isn't steady, calloused in all the right places for someone used to holding a gun. "Where are you originally from?" Since it seems like the exotics are scattered across the universe.

[komarran]

It's a grip he knows well and he makes a mental note that York is likely a mercenary of some kind.

"Komarr. It's a few wormholes away from here." And he seems to be the only one unfortunate enough to be from the same Nexus as this conflict. "Yourself?"

[infailtration]

Not a mercenary, no, he's not at all cut out for that line of work. He's just a soldier, and one who defected at that.

"Never heard of it. I was last on Heian." Which he's sure Duv has never heard of in return. "I'm pretty sure this is a different galaxy entirely."

[komarran]

His brows furrow as he tries to place the planet. No, it's not familiar and he's starting to wonder if he's the only one here from the same universe.

"I think so," he agrees with a frown. "Do you know if anything else is different? Such as the year?"

[infailtration]

"I'm from 2557," he tells Duv, tilting his head curiously. "What year is it here? No one's told me, and I didn't think it mattered if we kept track of time differently."

[komarran]

"Somewhere past the year 3000 Earth Common Era," he states with a small shrug. "I haven't heard the exact year yet, but from what I can tell, it's close to when I was pulle from."

[infailtration]

"A friend of mine is here, too, and he's from a few years past me... I didn't know wormholes could screw with time." If that's even what's happened to them all.

[komarran]

"They don't and I was no where near one when I left." No, he was about to land on Komarr to accept his new assignment. A step up from his work at the Earth embassy and the direction he wanted to take his career. Instead he was here, in the middle of a planetary invasion. Wonderful.

[infailtration]

"As far as I know, neither was I. I mean. I was kind of ... in the middle of something." He rakes a hand through his hair, worried about Tex.

[komarran]

"The middle of something?" he asks with a brow raised. The man might not be volunteering information, but it sounds like there's a story there. One best told in five parts in three minute increments.

[infailtration]

"It's a long story, but my friend and I were in the middle of invading this asshole's base. She went in before I did, but I wound up here... if she's alone..." He looks visibly worried, not bothering to hide it.

[komarran]

Ah. He frowns and taps a finger on the table's edge. There's not much to be said there, reassurances would be hollow and there's no guarantee they'll return to nothing unchanged.

"A civilian friend or...?"

[infailtration]

York tilts his head, considering both the question and the way it was asked. "Technically we're both civilians now, but we met as soldiers."

[komarran]

Former soldiers. That explained the hands and eye injury. "You'll have to trust she can handle herself." Unless the man preferred to spend his time worrying fruitlessly.

[infailtration]

"I'm trying. She can kick some serious ass, it's true." He smiles, then, a bit weak but genuine. A now topic would be good. "What did you do before this, Duv?"

[komarran]

A new topic is something he can honor and it's easy enough to speak of his 'life' before this. Perhaps the more he practices saying it, the more natural it will sound under pressure.

"I was a professor of history in the capital city of my planet," he answers. "This is my first time off-world."

[infailtration]

"History, huh? Just of your world, or do you know anything about this one?" Since Duv seems to be from the area, so to speak.

[komarran]

"My specialty has been in Komarran history. We've had trade dealings with Barrayar since we share the only wormhole that leads from its space to the rest of the Nexus," he explains. "But I'm afraid I don't know much."

[infailtration]

"Do you know why the Cetagandans are playing colonialist? If the Barrayarans have a trade deal then they must be happy how they are."

[komarran]

"Cetaganda is an imperial power several planets strong and they likely see Barrayar as an easy target. Barrayar has only recently entered galactic space once more after being isolated for centuries. It's..." What was the most polite way to put it? "Backwater, by the rest of the Nexus' standards."

[infailtration]

York hums in understanding, not agreement. He looks pretty displeased, actually. "Does Komarr have a horse in this race?"

[komarran]

"They should, but their primary concern is profit. I'm not sure what they think is going to happen once Cetaganda decides they'd rather not deal with a third party whenever they want to come and go from their new planetary conquest." But that was a historical what if at present. Speculation is something he tries very hard not to deal in.

[infailtration]

"Has that happened before, with Cetaganda?" If there's anyone here who would know historical precedent without bias, it's probably Duv. York doesn't know where their other colonized worlds are, or... "Actually, have they ever taken over an existing colony world before? Or were they all uninhabited?"