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Hello. This is Gregor Vorbarra, Senior Arbitration Officer on the ship, and I wanted to reach out to the inhabitants of the Moira new and old, to let you know that murder is not, has never been, and will never be an officially sanctioned method of arbitrating disputes either between crewmembers or officers. If you have any difficulties, please feel free to refer them to me and I will assist you as best I am able.

Have a good day.

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I appreciate the consideration, Gregor.

When does your schedule permit a meeting?

For you, Lady Alys? [His voice warms audibly over the comm, and he's smiling, though she can't see it.] Whenever it pleases you.

[ What a good child. Her own tone sounds appreciative, she's eager to see how he's turned out. ] You can meet me at my quarters then. I'm on Mero deck, room 21.

I will be there as soon as I'm able.

I'll be waiting.

[ Once her last message is sent, she takes a moment to assure her appearance is presentable before she moves to wait out in the main hall. She's off duty and by default she's been preferring to wear the dark clothing of mourning she arrived in, fitting of her social rank.

It doesn't mean much here, but it brings her some comfort as she adjusts to life on the Moira. ]

[It's not long before Gregor turns the corner into the hall, his mouth tilting up faintly when he sees Alys. He looks perfectly comfortable in his shipknits, with no sign of an insignia or rank. He nods to her as he comes closer.]

Lady Alys. How are you faring?

[ Her smile brightens as she takes in the sight of him. She can see the familiar lines in his face of the young boy she had left behind at the Imperial Residence when she came here. If he's so willing to accommodate her then surely...

She holds her arms out to offer him a light hug. ]

As well as can be expected.

[Gregor's eyes warm and he leans down into the hug, winding long arms around her and squeezing lightly before he lets go and steps back.]

I know the feeling. [His mouth tilts in a crooked smile.] Is there anything I can do to help?

[ Good. Their relationship hadn't soured as he grew older. That's heartening to know not only for herself but for the future of Barrayar.

She's still smiling as they pull apart. ]

You can fill me in on how things are going for you presently. Ivan was only able to speak for himself.

Things are all right. The ship doubled in size recently, so arbitrating has been... slightly more trying, though nothing quite compares to back home, and being here is a quite unprecedented opportunity for both privacy and time to myself. Miles has been... overworked as well, as of late, which means he's even more manic than usual. Also--there is one other person from home who knows about me and my status, but I thought it best to tell you in person.

[He nods to her door, his brow crimping in an expression that's not quite a frown.]

It's... a complicated and rather lengthy story.

[ She catches the gesture easily and begins heading back inside, keeping the conversation neutral until Gregor deems it appropriate to move to the more sensitive topics. ]

Do neither of you have others to delegate tasks to? With more crew members must come more help.

[ Unless the captains here are poor at delegating themselves. ]

I think they're working on appointing another Personnel Officer. We have another Arbitration Officer but I think...

[He pauses, rejects the first five things that leap to mind to describe Aurelia, and finishes diplomatically.]

The work does not seem to be precisely her speed.

[ Ah. Gregor need say no more, she understands completely what he's getting at. ]

Is there a system in place for seeking replacements if one is unfit for duty?

Yes. It's Miles. [Gregor smiles a little, just at the corners of his eyes and the very edges of his mouth.] Who is understandably overworked recently. But that falls under his jurisdiction as Personnel Officer.

I hope you've brought it to his attention to handle once matters settle down for him.

To be honest, I think I like Aurelia where I can at least sort of keep tabs on her, instead of having her transferred and inflicting her on someone else who doesn't have as much experience with armed lunatics. I'll figure it out.

[He keys the door shut and exhales, rubbing the back of his neck for a moment.]

Anyway. I will attempt to be as delicate and uncomplicated as I can, but this is... not simple, to say the least. Miles--and the rest of us--recently discovered he has a clone brother. Mark Pierre Vorkosigan, though I'm still not sure if he's thrilled to be called that. He... [Gregor sighs, tilting his head to the side and continuing on in as close to he ever gets as a rush.] Well, he was cooked up in Jackson's Whole by a Komarran terrorist in an astonishingly long-con attempt to assassinate Miles, Aral, and ultimately me to try to put the clone--Mark, that is--on the camp stool and destabilize Barrayar's government. At any rate, that's all cleared up now and done with, but Mark... still is. I gather he isn't particularly interested in assassinating anybody, but he's Miles' brother by Betan law and by blood right and he's sort of still learning how to have a family. Or be around people who aren't constantly threatening him. Or be himself at all.

[Gregor looks away, rubbing his lips thoughtfully, his brow furrowing.]

He knows about me, obviously. He's the last person. I know I can trust your discretion, of course, Lady Alys. And I know for a fact not all of Mark's interactions with Ivan have been entirely pleasant. But I think Mark is really trying, and I am attempting to treat him with a certain amount of care. I just wanted to brief you properly, and request that you do the same.

[ She's studying Gregor's face throughout this tale, searching for any signs that this is some sort of childish prank. But no, Gregor is still that serious-faced boy that she left behind, grown fully and knowing far better than to dump a fairy tale on her.

It's technology she knows exists, but far from a Barrayar still getting used to the idea of uterine replicators, technology Cordelia insists is commonplace everywhere else. If this was some terrorist plot, it sounds as if it's backfired horribly on the conspirators and it's no surprise with Cordelia at the helm they've chosen to go by Betan laws for settling the familial ties.

Her lips tighten into a tight line as she nods confirmation that yes, her discretion can be trusted. Of all the things to learn here. Still, it's hard to keep the surprise out of her voice when she asks, ] A clone brother?

[ But she heard Gregor the first time and settles on a much better follow-up question. ] Dare I ask what his interactions with my son have been?

Yes. Cordelia and Aral took legal custody instead of Miles, which is... probably for the best, all things carefully considered--Betan law can go either way.

[Gregor swallows a sigh and considers for a moment, but even if she wouldn't likely get the story from her son later, he can't bear to be anything less than honest with Alys, particularly when asked a direct question.] Ivan was on Earth with Miles and the terrorists when, er. When everything happened. [When the shit hit the fan is an astonishingly apt turn of phrase for what happened on Earth, if Duv Galeni's reports were entirely correct, and Gregor rather thought that they were, but a lecture on barracks language would interrupt the flow of his explanation so he declines to invite it.] Everyone was shot at quite a lot by everyone else, with some Cetagandan assassins tossed randomly into the mix courtesy of Miles' ImpSec work, and Ivan was... kidnapped briefly. By Mark. He ended up physically no worse for wear, but harbors some exceedingly understandable resentment after the whole affair. This was when Mark was still clawing his way free from control of the terrorist group who created him, it was... very trying for everyone involved, from what I gather.

At any rate, I don't think it's a mistake Mark intends to make again, and he is trying. He's just... rough around the edges. To put it mildly.

[ She listens quietly. Cetaganda and Komarr both involved. Somehow she's not surprised and the fact that anyone made it out of there alive is astonishing. She considers asking how, but decides that's a concern for a future her. No, the important thing is that they made it out alive, her son didn't end up dead.

That still leaves the question of Mark and she's not sure what to make of the man she has yet to meet.

Carefully she asks, ] Have Mark and Ivan made their amends since then?

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