the better space adventure

[vorbarra]

[ Gregor has long since progressed from afraid to bored and straight on through sullen. Just how long were they going to keep him here? Gregor is not accustomed to being kept anywhere he doesn't want to be, and maybe he's led a constrained life but it hasn't been a literal prison. And okay, so it's a little high-handed of him to be entitled about this, but he thinks he's entitled to know his future.

Yet no one answers his polite or his frustrated attempts to ask for answers. No one does anything apart from bring him food while looking harried and eye him dourly before leaving. He's started to get gross. He needs a shower, badly. He's washed his face and hair in the sink in his cell multiple times but it's just not the same and he's not used to these conditions.

Also, the boredom really is driving him insane. He's taken to composing sonnets in his head. He hates sonnets. He hates all that rigid structure in poetry, it's asinine and archaic. That's how bored he is, how craving stimulation and challenge.

When the door open, he startles upright, eyes wide. This is off schedule; he's already been fed today. ]

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[vorbarra]

[ Perhaps contrary to expectation, Gregor's interest fades and turns remote, an absolute blank slate, as he stares at him back. Being addressed as Prince in perfect Barrayaran Russian had tossed him right back into his regal, disaffected attitude, regardless of his grimy, deathly bored circumstances. ]

Thank you, [ he says politely, in formal verbage and clipped tones, ] but I would rather not be rescued.

[ Like hell he's going back to Barrayar. Like hell. ... And why is his supposed savior in brown and silver? What is going on-- just who is he pretending to be? No one uses those colors anymore. If he's faking, pretending just to lure Gregor away, he could be in extreme danger of a lot more than grimy boredom. ]

[dendarii]

[ That ... wasn't quite the reception he'd been hoping for. Okay, so maybe "hoping for" and "realistic" aren't the same in this case - he'd been really hoping for Gregor to fall instantly into his arms like a romance holovid - but this is rather further down than even realistic. Shit. How is he going to rescue an unwilling participant?

For now, he continues in Barrayaran Russian. ]

Why not? Do you like being cooped up like this?

[vorbarra]

[ It's odd, he notices finally, to be addressed by title and then receive no deference whatsoever. --Plus, are those earrings? ]

No, but I'm not going back to Barrayar. If you'd like to drop me off at the nearest non-Jacksonian airspace, you may.

[ Like as a prisoner he's in any position to be giving permission or making allowances, but Gregor can't help what he defaults to if they're going to be speaking in Russian. ]

[dendarii]

[ Not just earrings, but Betan earrings. Surely he has an unusual specimen here in front of him. He continues to frown at Gregor, his next question equally blunt. ]

What the hell's so bad about Barrayar? You're the Crown Prince. You don't even have any power to complain about.

[vorbarra]

[ Gregor really has no reason to recognize Betan earrings, never having seen them or been exposed to them or, God forbid, watched Betan feelies. It hasn't quite occurred to him yet as a possibility with Miles speaking Russian, and no obvious accent. There's no reason to doubt him as Barrayaran, if short. Who else would bother to learn this language? The rest of the Nexus couldn't care less.

This criticism closes him off completely; if he'd been a blank slate before he's practically a wall now. His voice turns correspondingly cool. ]

You may, of course, go there yourself if you like. [ Though how he fell in with mercenaries if he's so loyally Barrayaran does not speak well of him, and surely anyone ImpSec would not stop to wait for his opinion. No one waits for his opinion. ]

[dendarii]

[ Shit. He'd been hoping to bring Gregor back in style the first moment he'd heard that the Crown Prince was here. Should he reveal his own identity? Would Gregor fear an assassination attempt if he did? Miles truly doesn't want the throne anymore after what he'd seen in that alternate universe. Not even if offered.

He truly does need Gregor's opinion here. ]

I'm not leaving you. So we'll simply have to go somewhere other than Barrayar.

[vorbarra]

[ Gregor eyes him, suspicion mounting to a higher pitch, nearing an alarm. ]

Why? [ he says bluntly. ] Are you ImpSec? What sort of loyal Barrayaran offers to abscond with the Crown Prince rather than deliver him against his wishes?

[dendarii]

[ Now is the time to reveal, he thinks. Better now than false pretenses. ]

My name is Miles Vorkosigan, the son of Emperor Aral Vorkosigan. [ A slight pause. ] And Beta Colony is fucking boring.

[vorbarra]

[ He's so blindsided by this that he stares at him outright for a long moment. ]

So those are Vorkosigan colors, [ he affirms slowly. But he doesn't relax at all. His fake father's lost son. ] That doesn't tell me anything about what you want with me. [ And Kareen had always been very clear with Gregor not to let himself be used. ]

[dendarii]

[ This is the part he really can't explain. Not yet. Not even where he got the uniform from. There might not be anyone in the whole damn Nexus who'll believe him. ]

Well. I want you to come with me. Somewhere. And not be boring or bored.

[vorbarra]

[ This is no less suspicious than before, but it is at least understandable from a Betan, who are whimsical and completely nonsensical in their lack of regard for orders.

Gregor folds his arms and leans back on his narrow cell cot as if totally untouched by it. Sarcastically, ] I have no control over whether you find me boring, so you should provide an alternate criterion or I shall be paralyzed with uncertainty.

[dendarii]

[ Sarcasm, surely, but Miles gleefully sets to finding some alternate. ]

I do want a reward for my daring rescue.

[vorbarra]

I said I didn't want a rescue. When you do something I want done, perhaps then I'll reward you.

[ Though what he wants as a reward Gregor cannot imagine. ]

[dendarii]

Deal, [ answers Miles promptly, with a grin. ] Let's start with delivering you to nearest non-Jacksonian, non-Betan airspace and go from there.

[vorbarra]

Non-Jacksonian, non-Betan and non-Barrayaran? What's left, Earth?

[ There's a reluctant, tentative curl of amusement at this, between Miles not reacting offensively to being needled and the sort of ridiculousness of it all. Gregor amused is a bit like a hermit crab sticking his foot out of his shell. ]

[dendarii]

[ Miles decides he rather likes the look of it on him. Even as he suddenly feels a pang of sorrow at the absence of feeling accompanying it. Dear god, he misses having that telepathy very badly. ]

Why not Earth? I didn't get to see much of it the last time I was there.

[vorbarra]

[ Earth. Another place Gregor's never been, and is greedy to go. But his humor fades shortly, his suspicion too healthy to stay away for long. ]

And how would you get us there? Who are you to the Oserans if you're not another captive? [ He had to confess to himself some utterly morbid fascination with just what Aral Vorkosigan Vorbarra's long lost son is like, too. So far: nothing at all like the man himself. Refreshingly. Wouldn't that be a joke, if Gregor finally got out from under his thumb and ran off with his real son? Too bad he's not vindictive enough to enjoy the cruel irony of it. ]

[dendarii]

[ Miles grins rather widely at that, genuinely proud. ]

I'm in the middle of a takeover, actually. I've already convinced one of their capital ships to follow me. We could easily escape with just that.

[vorbarra]

What?

[ Talking to Miles is just a series of continual incredulous shocks. ]

How are you in the middle of a takeover? Haven't you been sequestered on Beta Colony your whole life?

[dendarii]

[ He takes great offense to the term "sequestered." Even though it's mostly true. ]

Sequestered by whom? My father? Like hell. The fact that I'm here means Beta Colony couldn't keep me trapped.

[vorbarra]

[ He levels an uncaring eyebrow. Gregor has no idea who'd sequestered him, but ImpSec does not give faulty information. He just hadn't especially paid attention to the details at the time, which he's now regretting, because jaunty as this proposed venture might be, that doesn't mean he trusts him on this alone. ]

That doesn't answer my question.

[dendarii]

I talked to them, Gregor. I convinced them I was more important as Lord Vorkosigan.

... And Bel wants very desperately to sleep with me.

[vorbarra]

[ He's not asking who Bel is, but learning he's sleeping his way in is probably not too surprising for a Betan. Or teasing his way in? Who knows? Gregor prefers not knowing. Ultimately... There's no reason here that Gregor should trust him, definitely not enough to run off to Earth with someone in a Vorkosigan House uniform speaking perfect Russian, of all people. That makes him more likely to be dangerous, not less.

There's just also no reason for him to care. It doesn't matter if something happens to him. Gregor can't find it in himself to care. Suddenly he feels exhausted. ]

Fine. If you want to go to Earth, I'll go. But I'm having a shower first.

[dendarii]

[ Miles bites back the observation that he would love to help out with that shower. Emperor Gregor had been a glorious whirlwind, but this ... This is is a different kind of delight. He's going to have to go slow, damn it all. ]

All right. I can help with that. Just follow my lead, okay? [ And now he turns back to the guard, switching to English. ] He's mine all right. You'll find the ransom in order - I'll be taking him back with me now.

[vorbarra]

What did you tell them? [ he asks with a raised eyebrow, unconcerned. Gregor stands and trails after him with all the affected aplomb of someone used to being a display and not a performance. ]