shipmaster | (no subject)

[For now, things had actually settled. The metal structure was still being excavated - who knows what was in it just yet. Though the great bug's demise had brought a significant windfall. The carapace made a good shelter that they now huddled in, and the meat was plentiful and rich in water. If nothing else, they had a good spot to bunker down until the rescue came.]

... Restless, dear?

[ Miles, meanwhile, is anything but calm. The stress and the seizure seem to have set off something of a chain reaction in his mind. He just can't seem to sit still. So instead, he paces in a tight circle, occasionally reaching out a hand to touch the side of the carapace they've sheltered in. ]

Of course I am. When am I not?

[Dead.

Bel doesn't say that.]

Usually there are certain degrees. I expect this one caught between the armies of two empires and low on fuel, armaments and comms are down.

Edited 2016-10-29 21:37 (UTC)

[ Thanks, Bel. Miles would appreciate that if his brain weren't boiling in his skull right now. He stops to lean against the carapace for a moment. ]

It's not so different now, is it? We've just defeated - or maddened, I'm not sure - one army here. And we're as low on the the others as we come. And I had a seizure at the exact moment you needed me for my brain!

[Bel watches Miles from where they are sitting, expression stormy.]

Speaking of, perhaps you should... slow down a little bit?

[ He whips his head sharply around in response. Nevermind he still looks like shit - the seizure left his skin about the tone and consistency of gray glue - he's too agitated to calm down. ]

I'll slow down when I'm dead. You needed Admiral Naismith. And he's just not here right now, is he.

[Bel has the grace, or the self awareness to flinch at that first outburst, though the low mutter was entirely their black humor.] Not by much...

[Still, they fight with several answers to that last line, some they can't say at all, some that are dramatic, but meaningless...

In the end, the most damning of all, the answer was silence from the captain.]

Just so.

[ Even Bel can't answer him, can they? The silence is more answer than any words ever could be. He resumes his agitated pacing, sweat starting to bead on his brow despite the relative shade offered by the carapace. It's clear to him that he's utterly useless without his memories. A sharp brain means nothing without some experience behind it, or at least enough health to weather whatever condition he's been afflicted with. Both leaves him useless. Worse than useless. ]

I'm a liability. A shade that you can't leave behind simply because I resemble a man you used to know. Dead weight. I can't stand it.

[ And it's doubly frustrating because he's sure there's a way not to be any of those things. If he only remembered ... There's a maddening face at the edges of his memory, staring at him with a mixture of love and razor-sharp judgement in equal measures. No mercy from him. No mercy owed to a mutie who needs to stand on his own ... ]

[THAT gets a scowl from Bel.]

I'm bringing you home. Don't you start getting like this, we need you to get us home. Not right now.

You need me whole.

[ The face in his mind seem more solid. Family, wasn't he? (But he doesn't have any family, except that axe-faced man he saw at the other end of a needler.) His headache is worsening by the moment, but it doesn't quite seem the same as his earlier seizure. (Does it? He doesn't have context for this either.)

He opens his mouth to warn Bel and finds his mouth has gone dry. Stumbling to a halt, he trembles against the carapace as more memories crowd against the edges of his mind. ]

[It's a fascinating process in its own way. Miles already looked worn out, hollowed and grey, the wild hunters light in his grey eyes hadn't helped the look at all.

Bel didn't think it could get worse. It did. It was positively ghoulish.

The herm is up in a flash, hands lifting to pull Miles to the sandy floor of their shelter.]

Miles... are you with me?

[ He goes limp in Bel's arms, trembling all over. It's not a seizure but it sure looks like one. It goes through him in waves, matching the sheer volume of memories suddenly flooding into his head. When the Duronas described it as a cascade, they were not kidding. Some memories settle down quickly enough, slotting easily into the framework he has. Others seem to just clog everything up.

Bel doesn't get a coherent response just yet. Only a soft noise disturbingly close to the one he'd made during his convulsions. ]

Ahhh .. hhnn ....

[They really didn't know any different. And ... this was no easier for them than the first time. There's a particular helplessness to any emergency where the only answer is wait. Continuing to hold him probably isn't advised, but they do it anyway, their gloved hand warm against his forehead.]

I told you to slow down. [Their voice has an edge of helpless panic to it.]

[ The first difference comes in response to Bel's touch. Miles twitches slightly in response rather than simply continuing to tremble mindlessly. (On the contrary - there's too much going through his mind right now. It hurts to hold, but it's coming back.)

He turns towards Bel, gripping their arms as hard as he can. ]

Forward momentum. [ He murmurs. ] I've always ... lived by that ...

[If nothing else, Bel is sensitive to instincts. That first flinch gets a surge of hope and a pang of longing (mourning?).

Whatever this is (is this it? God! Please let it be it) it's not a seizure. Miles is very there, almost electrically present for how much it doesn't seem to even be over yet.

The grip is almost painful, full of a force Miles had never been able to exert on his more delicate fingers before the bones were replaced. Bel makes no move to break it at all..

The gesture slides a little, down his face, curious, testing.]

You have. The only thing keeping you alive sometimes.

[ He's over the crest of it now. The trembling begins to slow a little bit at a time, until he's only shaking faintly in Bel's arms. He hardly seems to notice, though. It doesn't matter what his body is doing because he remembers, dammit. Not everything - his Barrayaran memories are particularly stubborn, something he's not going to resolve any time soon - but so much more than he had. He could cry from the sheer relief and pain of it all. There's a few tears rolling down his cheeks now.

That grip doesn't lessen one bit. He begins to laugh quietly, sounding a little unhinged. ]

Yes. Yes, you're right. God, how many times did we get through by the edge of our teeth?

[The laugh in answer was almost strangled sounding. What were they feeling right now? Joy, remorse at having brought Miles this low? Relief that by little more than will and frustration, Miles was clawing his way back out of his own grave, memory and breath at a time? Bel didn't know. Their arms were going to have bruises.]

I did say you never brought us boring missions.

...

Welcome back, sir.

[ He remembers what Bel has done, now, but here's too much floating around in there for him to parse it just yet. One piece at a time. And the most important part is just getting used to have his head full of information again. Everything else will have to wait a moment.

He manages a wild sort of grin. Pained, but wholly his again. ]

It's damn good to be back. I was going mad. [ Another sharp laugh. ] If you were hoping for an explanation on this one, I'm sorry to say I don't have one.

I'm not sure if I can say that I'm glad that not even you has the hidden cards on this one.

[They settle... not withdrawing their hold, or contact for now. Not until Miles himself pulls back. For all they know, this is the last time.]

[ It helps that Miles' Barrayaran instincts are the first to be suppressed in the name of figuring himself back out again. For now, he lets himself lean against Bel out of practicality more than anything else. ]

I truly wish I did. But the last thing I have is the Duronas. And you hadn't even found me yet, had you ...

No. We were still wildly searching the Nexus... instead of Jackson's Whole.

In some ways, I'm glad for whatever this is. You were in uncountable danger where you were.

[ A real shiver goes through him this time, not seizure or memory induced. ]

In the very belly of the beast. And with no memories on top of that. I wonder if this is all some Jacksonian plot to begin with ...

No. The setup was too chaotic to have been planned, even by a master. There's no hints that Norwood was-

Norwood had your cryocamber. He was pinned down by fire, took it to Shipping and Receiving during the extraction. He had said "The Admiral will get out of here even if we don't."

[Norwood certainly hadn't.]

Everything is a riot right now.

Edited 2016-10-30 01:53 (UTC)

[ Miles bows his head, another shiver going through him. ]

I'm sorry, Captain. I can't imagine how frantic all of you were.

[ His next instinct is to ask if his family had been told too, but - who? What family? His memories of his parents and home planet seem strangely unrealistic. ]

Edited 2016-10-30 01:58 (UTC)

More than worrying about that, we need to get back. Commander Quinn...

[Probably still hasn't slept, unless Bothari-Jesek is still as clever with a hypospray.]

Atlas, continuation/PSL

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