shipmaster | (no subject)

I'm not entirely unconvinced we weren't. [They run a hand through their hair.]

There's a lot astoundingly unanswered.

[ Miles nods again at that. ]

And now ImpMil has its survey ships out to explore. And Beta Colony's, for that matter. I almost wish we were out with them.

I don't. It's going to be a lot of gathering rocks in little packets. And then gathering a lot more rocks in little packets.

... Let me guess. You tried for the survey but didn't make it?

[There was a moment - a little spark of defensive anger - that would have been an answer enough if Bel hadn't continued after that bite of breakfast.]

I don't know if you can call it trying if you don't make it past the evals.

You should eat.

[ Sorry, Bel. As an apology, Miles takes a large bite out of his toast. ]

Ah. Well, I likely wouldn't have either. Even putting aside the issue of parentage.

[... Bel's ... slight... personality issues actually pale in front of Miles' honestly.]

... You'd be terrible at anything but complete command...

Just so. And that's not how it works at all, is it? Cordelia compared the Survey to herding cats.

[Cordelia... It seemed strange to their ear and they couldn't place why.]

Just think, everything a committee. And THEN a majority vote. Some unanimous.

I'll continue being a benevolent dictator, thank you.

[ He takes another small slice of meat and pushes the rest of his plate back. ]

Speaking of which - how are you finding Barrayar?

[Bel pushes it back towards him with one finger. Two bites want going to cut it, and they KNEW Naismith and his lack of appetite.]

Better than I thought I would. I think I have tall, dark and imposing to thank. [The Vorkosigan colours nearly as much as the young Armsman wearing them... ]

[ Miles makes a face. Fine, he'll take another bite... ]

Ah, Roic? I was hoping you two would get along.

[One thing that they ARE liking about this job... Miles is listening to a few things here and there.]

He's either unusually open minded or just a bit better at putting on that bland no face that seems to float up around here.

Well, the Vorkosigans are an unusual family. It stands to reason he'd be a bit unusual himself.

You know, you almost talk about them in third person. Removed.

[ Ah. He flinches a bit at that, not quite having noticed it himself. ]

... It's ... I meant my family. Us. We're unusual.

[ It rings entirely hollow. ]

Mm.

[They reach over the table, laying a hand on Miles' arm.]

Maybe we should change tactics. Go find places you like today, rather than people. People are complicated.

[ Miles just nods quietly. ]

The stables, maybe. I think I liked them quite a bit as a child.

Right after.

[They nod at that. The word didn't mean much to them, but Bel was sure they'd find out.

They tuck into their own breakfast, refusing to waste someone else's work... and gives Miles another side eye.]

At LEAST the eggs, those are light.

[ Miles makes a face. But he takes a few bites of his eggs just to shut Bel up. ]

You sound just like Roic.

[They smirk.]

Why, thank you.

It's not a compliment. I don't need to be nagged all the time ...

[ Miles shoves in another forkful of eggs. ]

[Bel's grin just gets wider.]

You SAY that, but there are just all of these opportunities

You're enjoying this entirely too much.

Me? I just-

[A knock interrupts, sharp, efficient, before Roic sees himself in. There's a vague nod towards Bel... and a critical look at Miles' plate from the young Armsman.

Surprised, but satisfied, he turns back to his mission.

"M'lord."]