[ Why does he know that face? He does know it, he's certain. He flips over the files that he sat and read and memorized, mentally recalls all the photos that he stared at until his eyes ached. He mentally puts that face into military garb. Vorthys colors - what are Vorthys colors? That might help him remember. He has to recall this face. Miles would know that face. He'd recognize him. He...
It's the sly bit of silver. That's what triggers it. Black and silver. The clone's gaze snaps up from that cuff to the melancholy, wary face, the strong nose, the pensive air. Quiet voice. Has he ever heard him speak? He doesn't speak so much, does he - he just sits, always in the back of holovids, always simultaneously just an accessory and the focus of the whole affair...
Emperor Gregor.
The clone chokes, and at least this time he doesn't have to suppress that. Not one bit. Because Vorkosigan would do exactly the same - inhale a great mouthful of spit and cough and choke until his face goes pale and his eyes water. It takes a full ten seconds before he finally manages - ]
He called you - Vorthys -
[ God. If death won't stick to Vorkosigan, it won't stick to the Emperor, will it? And how will Galen react, knowing the clone was in a room with both his progenitor and the Emperor, the one on the throne and third in line to the throne, and did nothing? No assassination. Not even stunning them. He should stun them, tie them up, find some way to get back and hand-deliver both of them to the Komarrans, because wouldn't that be enough? If they had both of them in their hands, they could get freedom for Komarr using that sort of leverage, right? But instead, he just stares, his face going mottled as he tries to dislodge the spit from his throat. ]
no subject
It's the sly bit of silver. That's what triggers it. Black and silver. The clone's gaze snaps up from that cuff to the melancholy, wary face, the strong nose, the pensive air. Quiet voice. Has he ever heard him speak? He doesn't speak so much, does he - he just sits, always in the back of holovids, always simultaneously just an accessory and the focus of the whole affair...
Emperor Gregor.
The clone chokes, and at least this time he doesn't have to suppress that. Not one bit. Because Vorkosigan would do exactly the same - inhale a great mouthful of spit and cough and choke until his face goes pale and his eyes water. It takes a full ten seconds before he finally manages - ]
He called you - Vorthys -
[ God. If death won't stick to Vorkosigan, it won't stick to the Emperor, will it? And how will Galen react, knowing the clone was in a room with both his progenitor and the Emperor, the one on the throne and third in line to the throne, and did nothing? No assassination. Not even stunning them. He should stun them, tie them up, find some way to get back and hand-deliver both of them to the Komarrans, because wouldn't that be enough? If they had both of them in their hands, they could get freedom for Komarr using that sort of leverage, right? But instead, he just stares, his face going mottled as he tries to dislodge the spit from his throat. ]