shipmaster | (no subject)

Don't you remember our first encounter? This brilliant, mad child storming in, with a small, dangerous army, taking over and making everything work like out of some holovid.

You turned the worst command I've ever been under around, stopped a war with barely a shot and then flitted off like you hadn't existed at all.

Tell me, Admiral, if that had been a woman doing it to you, wouldn't you?

[ When Bel puts it like that ... Miles feels as though he ought to protest for some reason. He was definitely desperate at the time, fresh off of some horrid failure. (The test where he'd shattered his legs, right? But why would he have been on Barrayar?) ]

... I admit I'd probably have been head over heels. Yes. Or determined to go and find them after.

But I was - I am quite deformed.

Edited 2016-10-30 18:31 (UTC)

[A rather airy response dies at that. They lean back, looking at Miles as if either just noticing or just now paying attention to those not-so-little twists. The steps where bones didn't form right, where even the plastic couldn't straighten because of long developed muscle patterns, even all of the Duronas couldn't give him normalacy as well as life. One miracle at a time.

Their finger traces down his now straightened spine.]

Limited isn't a word I would use with you.

Edited 2016-10-30 18:49 (UTC)

[ Another faint shiver goes through him at that touch and that reassurance. ]

I wasn't thinking of "limited." I've slept with a Betan before. She was ... overly fascinated.

Ah. [They consider... eyes widen and narrow. That little story amnesiac Miles told slots into place easily.

The answer wasn't one they needed to think about.]

It's not one of my kinks. [They shrug.] By now, you should have noticed I'm not repulsed, either.

[ Miles allows that response, then. No need to go into further details on his end. ]

No, you're not. I'd say that was a rare thing, but ... Not so rare as I had expected.

Not as rare or is it self-selected?

You gathered all of us, you know. All these wandering souls who've given their destiny the finger to see what else is out there.

Are you going to be surprised now?

[ Miles snorts faintly. ]

When you put it like that, it seems nearly natural.

Doesn't it? It took us forever to suss out that it wasn't a clue to your identity, just a bit of pathos.

[They lean back on Miles again, settling comfortably.]

Either way, I'm sure you're not going to have me hanged. Cashiered, is it?

Edited 2016-10-30 19:41 (UTC)

[ Ah, back to more serious topics. As lovely as this diversion had been. Miles leans back against them, looking out over the queen's carapace. ]

I don't have any choice, Bel. What you did was essentially treason. You can't continue like that.

No, I suppose not. [Their expression is hidden by the positioning, but their voice is subdued. Perhaps they had been hoping for something, some Milesian inspiration to make it all work.

Their voice lifts again, humor and a bit of hard edged negotiation.]

I do want combat pay for this whole stint. Triple that for the whole time you were in cryoamnesia. Betan dollars, by the way.

[ Some situations even Miles can't talk his way out of. Allowing Bel to stay would be tantamount to destroying the entire outfit.

Money, though ... That can be managed. ]

That can be arranged. You and Taura both, of course. And whoever manages to come and pick us up.

That will do. Maybe I'll visit Beta again.

The old sandbox, eh? Doesn't seem like your kind of place any more.

[They laugh.] Oh, it never was.

... I'm not sure what else to do.

[ Miles is quiet for a moment, thinking about that. His memories of Barrayar are all mixed up, but he's sure of one thing ... ]

We've helped the Barrayarans many times, haven't we? I could make a recommendation there.

As an operative? [As they couldn't imagine Barrayar welcoming a herm into the military or God forbid, inner city. No matter who pulled strings.] I'm not exactly spy material.

Spies aren't the only people needed. ImpSec has quite a variety of people working for it, as I understand.

I'm a shipmaster and captain. From what I understand, that service is closed to women. [And women who are also men.] And off worlders.

And those who are physically deformed. But exceptions can be made.

[ He's certain he can talk to someone who can pull the right strings here. ]

...

I'll think about it.

[ Miles nods at that, conceding the point. ]

We have no shortage of time for now, Captain.

[That Captain was one of those messages that carried quite a few undertones. The reinstatement that the amnesiac Miles had done was no longer a fit of whimsy, ill or partially informed.

For now, at least, Bel could put back on that far more comfortable jacket.]

I've mixed feelings on that. I'll still vote for a shortage.

[They pause, and lean down one more time (just once more), kissing Miles languidly before moving to disentangle and stand.]

We really should work on how to make sure the Fleet can get a lock on our signal. These things have a signal, there's got to be a way to boost it.

[ Miles must remove Bel once they return to the Dendarii. But ... not yet. No need to make the inevitable real just yet. Perhaps other circumstances will arise between now and then.

Other things are almost certain to arise, damn it all. But he returns the kiss lightly anyway, before getting back to his feet as well. He is ... beyond strung out at this point. A seizure and a cascade aren't fun things to live through, much less one after the other. ]

So our first order of business is finding tools - or something intact enough to patch into.

So... Our mysterious metal hulk down there?