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[trisshawkeye]

It is springtime, and the seed that is Redwall Abbey is beginning to grow.

---

My Fandom5K assignment, focussing on Martin the Warrior in the aftermath of Mossflower. It was lovely to get another chance to write some Redwall!

#redwall #martin the warrior #gonff #columbine #fandom5k #my fic

[madroxed]

BE IN MY BOOK [BRIDGERTON. ~5k. PENELOPE/BENEDICT.]

Penelope's spent the better part of her life silently pining over one Bridgerton brother; the thought of going through it again is exhausting.

a/n: author reveals are now live, so, written for fandom5k '23. this isn't a ship i'd ever thought of but the prompt screamed at me, and lbh, it takes zero pushing for me to write regency romance fluff ♥︎.

#my fic #bridgerton fic #penedict #penedict fic #penelope x benedict #heaven knows what i should be tagging this with #but hey! first fic in like a year and a half (oh god)

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Wednesday, April 24

SNYDER: There're some things I can just smell. It's like a sixth sense. GILES: No, actually that would be one of the five. SNYDER: That Summers girl. I smell trouble. I smell expulsion, and just the faintest aroma of jail. GILES: Well, before you throw away the key, you might consider giving her the benefit of the doubt. She may surprise you. SNYDER: You really have faith in those kids, don't you? GILES: Yes, I do. SNYDER: Weird.

~~BtVS 2x01 “When She Was Bad”~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Sweet Gesture (Willow, Xander, Oz, PG) by badly_knitted

Caught on Camera (Spike, Dawn, PG-13) by veronyxk84

[Chaptered Fiction]

My Sanctuary, Chapter 5/5 COMPLETE! (Angel/Wesley, T) by Enigmatist

The Witching Hour:, Chapter 7/25 (Willow/Tara, E) by TheLightdancer

Infinitely, Chapter 49/? (Willow/Tara, M) by Laragh

Buffy season 8, Chapter 3/22 (Buffy/Angel, not rated) by FreyStewart

In the Company of Witches and Slayers:, Chapter 16/200 (Willow/Tara, E) by VladimirHarkonnen (TheLightdancer)

[French language] Recommencer, Chapter 9/? (Buffy/Faith, M) by FridayQueen

hit rewind, Chapter 50/? (Buffy/Spike, M) by untiljanuary

She's in Parties, Chapter 2/8 (Spike/Drusilla, E) by betweenfactandbreakfast

The Return of Lost Love, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Riley, T) by OliviaSalvatore

The Greatest Love of All, Chapter 2 (Buffy, G) by Aristocrat Writer

Stab in the back, Chapter 20 (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only) by MelG_2005

Under the Influence, Chapter 6 (Buffy/Spike, R) by Hostile17-1996

The Tortured Slayer Department, Chapter 2 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by BewitchedXx

Breaking Illusions, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by RavenLove12

Secret Obsession, Chapters 1-2 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Maxine Eden

A Ripple In Time, Chapter 6 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by CheekyKitten

Guitar Villain, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by RavenLove12

Love Lives Here, Chapter 53 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Passion4Spike

Old Fashioned Romance, Chapter 9 (Xander/Steve Rogers, Marvel xover, FR21) by calikocat

Blood and dust, Chapters 7-8 (Buffy/Spike, 18+) by Blackoberst

What the Drabble? Vol. 2, Chapter 17 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by VeroNyxK84

Breaking Illusions, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by RavenLove12

Love Lives Here, Chapter 53 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Passion4Spike

The Young King Sings A Song For The Lover, The Leaver, The Lonely Alike (Maybe You're The Boy From My Dreams), Chapter 6 (Buffy/Faith, M) COMPLETE! by Slayerismsunrise

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Artwork: recently i started watching buffy and i wanted to make a little something (Buffy, worksafe) by theartintrying

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Artwork: Coloring page of Fred Burkle in “Smile Time” (worksafe) by amazzyblaze

Artwork: Caras eu amo a buffy (Buffy, worksafe) by moskarosa

Artwork: Dead girl by the bar all dressed up (Spike/Drusilla, worksafe) by novivi

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Artwork: ChiBangel: Earshot #1 (Buffy/Angel, G) by MamaBewear

[Reviews & Recaps]

S01E12 Prophecy Girl by she-saved-the-world-a-lot

Slayer: A Buffyverse Story by figurelifeflirt

PODCAST: HELLMOUTH HOMOS: A New Man by Fear Queers

PODCAST: Episode 53: The Freshman (w/ Katie Kaisershot) by Gym Was Cancelled

[Recs & In Search Of]

ISO: looking for a spike/angel fic requested by honeybearbee9

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[Fandom Discussions]

Xander was very annoying - more than usual - for the latter half of this season by theredpharaoah

[about undead characters stating that they “have no breath”] by monsterblogging

Buffy should’ve called Joyce in “Go Fish” by theredpharaoah

the last words Buffy Summers said to Willow before she went to face the Master by deus–auri

I think it’s really sweet in Once More with Feelings how Spike tries his best to get Buffy to leave before he breaks into song by conscious-overflow

One of the best visual jokes Buffy the Vampire Slayer ever did was put Spike in Riley’s clothes in Crush by toomanylizzes

The Dawn plotline by mybuffysittersavampireslayer

START OF S5 THOUGHTS by mybuffysittersavampireslayer

Wait, why did the Initiative set their soldiers up undercover as grad students? by nicnacsnonsense

but why only one slayer at a time? like it doesnt really make sense by gothhobbithoe

Not that I’m not glad for it, but why didn’t Riley just kill Spike in “Into the Woods”? by nicnacsnonsense

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if i’m reading fanfic and the writer puts faith in a dress without a Very Good Reason [...] by beatriceeverytuesday

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[beatrice-otter]

Fic: The Green Lady

fandom5k 2023 has revealed the authors, and here's what I wrote! Greenygal was an excellent beta, and helped both with canon details which I had mixed up with fanon and also helped me to articulate and bring out the thematic elements. My original thought with the ghost story idea was something at least mildly spooky, but it didn't turn out that way, alas. But I do like the way it did! My one regret is that I don't think anybody has picked up the dual reference in the title. Alas. Title: The Green Lady Author: Beatrice_Otter Fandom: Vorkosigan Saga Characters: Delia/Duv Written For: desertvixen in Fandom 5k 2023 Rating: G Length: 11,879 words Betaed by: Greenygal, who was deeply helpful with both canon and thematic elements. Thank you so much! Summary: The first time Delia saw the woman, it was after a party at the Residence and she assumed that the woman had gotten lost. But then it turned out nobody else had seen her and she did not appear on the Residence security logs ....             On AO3. On Squidgeworld. On Pillowfort. On tumblr. On Dreamwidth..

The first time Delia saw the woman, it was after a party at the Residence and she assumed that the woman had gotten lost.

The woman was at the other end of the hall, so Delia didn't get a good look at her face, but she was either one of those elderly women who refused to adapt to changing fashion, or playing dress-up. And she was wearing a day dress, not a gown suitable for a Residence event. All this Delia took in at a glance, years of experience with Tante Alys having trained her eye.

Regardless, she shouldn't be here, in the North Wing, which was mostly offices and infrastructure, and not somewhere party guests should wander freely. "Can I help you?" Delia called.

The woman glanced back at Delia and glided silently around a corner. Delia followed quickly, but the woman was nowhere to be seen. She'd probably stepped into one of the offices that lined the hall; some of them were still open, as this was the hall that housed the Social Secretary's office (which in the off-season was Delia's domain; since Gregor's wedding, Tante Alys was no longer needed as hostess, and that meant she could take extended vacations, leaving the day-to-day work to Delia to manage). On nights when there was a ball or formal dinner or other event at the Residence, it was all hands on deck for the Secretaries. Most such work took place at the event, of course, but there were frequently details that were easier to handle in the quiet of their offices.

Sure enough, Dowager Countess Vorlakial's office door was open, and the lights were on; as the Secretary with the highest social rank, she had a suite instead of a single office. Delia peeked inside, but the mystery lady wasn't there.

Delia glanced around. Madam Stasia Vorreedi, Dowager Countess Vorlakial's eldest granddaughter, was coming down the hall, presumably to collect her grandmother.

"Madam Vorreedi, what a pleasure to see you," Delia said. "I hope you enjoyed this evening?" It had been a dinner and concert put on as a benefit for the Lady Vorbohn's Children's Hospital, and the only issues Delia's team had had to deal with had been minor and (hopefully) invisible to the Imperial Family and their guests.

"Of course," Madam Vorreedi said, reserved as always. "I congratulate you on your entertainment; that soprano gave the best performance of the Lady of the Lake's aria I've heard in a long time. Where did you find her?" Madam Vorreedi was a snob, and Delia didn't much care for her, but even when Delia had been a young prole just starting to attend Residence events on the strength of her parents' careers and the other woman had been a Count's daughter hoping to become Empress, Madam Vorreedi had been perfectly polite. It was better than a lot of her peers and friends had been.

"Thank you," Delia said. "One of my husband's men heard her performing in the Kithera Regional Opera, in Vorbretten's District. He passed the recommendation along." She glanced around. "Did you see a woman in the hall just now, in a day dress thirty years out of date? She was wearing an olive green dress made of structured and pleated silks in the Ezarian style, with leg-of-mutton sleeves on the bolero jacket; it was very fine, though I only caught a glimpse of it. She had dark hair styled in a tall, elaborate bouffant."

Madam Vorreedi shook her head. "I'm sorry, I haven't seen anyone of that description tonight."

"Thank you anyway," Delia said, and took her leave with a curtsey that was much shallower than it had been back when Delia was a girl. Madam Vorreedi still out-ranked her, technically, but Delia's post as Lady Alys' right-hand woman gave her a prestige and power that even a Count's daughter could not equal.

As she walked away, Delia pulled out a commlink and reported the encounter to Colonel Vingradov, who was in charge of security this evening. It was probably nothing; this floor of the North Wing had relatively low security, because the social secretary did business with a wide variety of people, and the Imperial family seldom came here. When Gregor or Laisa needed to be involved in planning an event, Alys and Delia went to them, not the other way around. (Gregor's office was in this wing, but on a different floor and just off the main block of the Palace, and there was much tighter security there.) It wasn't uncommon for people related to the staff to drop by for a visit, either.

Still. It was the Residence, and it was better safe than sorry.

That done, Delia collected the items from her office that she'd come to get, and headed out to the side entrance where Duv was waiting for her. The event was over, the servants were handling the cleanup, and anything else could wait until the next day.

***

Delia was woken up the next morning by her husband kissing her cheek. "What time is it?" she said sleepily.

"Still early," Duv said, "but not all of us get time off work because we attended a party last night." He smiled and straightened his collar in the mirror.

"The party was work, not play, for me," Delia said. "Excellent soprano notwithstanding. So I get time off to compensate. Thank Lieutenant Galnis for me." That was the nice thing about working at the Residence. Tante Cordelia had long since insisted on sensible and fair rules on pay and time off for everyone from the lowest scullery maid to the top staff. Even now, thirty years later, you still got Vor complaining that it gave proles 'ideas,' to have such a standard in the Palace, but few of them did it where Delia could hear.

"I'll pass on your compliments," Duv said. He gave her another kiss and headed off to work.

***

When she got to the office that afternoon, after a luxurious lie-in, there was a note from ImpSec on her comconsole. No woman matching that description had entered or exited the Residence that night, or appeared in any of the public areas that had security cameras, and they assumed she had changed into the dress once here. They were doing an extra-thorough post-event sweep of the whole Residence, just in case, but didn't expect to find anything. Things were quiet, at the moment. The Council of Counts was in its summer recess, and neither the dissident Komarrans nor the anarchist proles were stirring up more trouble than usual.

Delia sat back. Changing the dress was certainly possible, and they did get people wanting to play out fantasies in the Residence every so often; usually, such people tried to break into the older section of the Palace, which had a more romantic history and also rooms more interesting than the offices of the North Wing. Maybe this had merely been a thrill-seeker smart enough to figure out she was less likely to get caught (and the penalties would be less severe) in a part of the Palace the Imperial Family spent little time in.

But that hair—that hair couldn't go unnoticed, and it took a long time to style. There was a reason it had mostly been confined to High Vor ladies before it went out of fashion. (Tante Cordelia liked to take credit for its demise, as she had refused to wear it, given how hard it was to maintain and how long it took to style every morning. Delia thought it was more likely the seasonal change of fashions combined with the growing use of galactic hair products among the common proles to achieve the same look in less time.) Still, it could have been a wig; but that plus the dress would make a very large suitcase or bag to carry, and ImpSec allowed few people to bring such things in, and searched them when they did.

Delia sent a note of her own pointing that out; competent as ImpSec was, they probably wouldn't know how long it would have taken to produce the woman's hairstyle, or how large the wig would have to have been if it were a wig.

Then she turned back to all the myriad details that had been neglected over the last few days in favor of finalizing plans for the concert.

***

Delia had mostly forgotten about the mystery lady in the three-decade-old fashions when she saw her again. It was an ordinary day in the Residence; it was the summer, which was traditionally a slow season for social events in Vorbarr Sultana. Now that few Counts were involved directly in the agricultural workings of their districts, that was changing; but it was an excellent excuse to lighten the schedule. And, given that Empress Laisa was only slightly more enthusiastic about entertaining than Emperor Gregor was, it was one the social staff took full advantage of. Tante Alys, for example, was currently at a resort on the South Continent.

“I’m wondering if we shouldn’t add a garden party to the schedule,” Dowager Countess Vorlakial said. “We haven’t done one in a few years, and it would add a nice variety.” They'd worked together for a few years, now, and had a good working relationship, but the Dowager Countess was not one to offer her first name to a prole woman so many decades her junior.

“The schedule for the remainder of the season is fairly set,” Delia said. Dowager Countess Vorlakial was very good at her job, and Delia had learned almost as much from her as from Lady Alys. But she did have a tendency to suggest changes at the last minute that were usually more disruptive than helpful. “You never mentioned it during our planning sessions, is there any particular reason you bring it up now?”

“Stasia asked why we haven’t done any lately,” she said. “The gardens at the palace are exquisite, and they’re only open to the public when there’s an event in them.”

“True,” Delia said. “We do get school tours through sometimes, but that’s not the same thing. We could look into opening up part of them when the Imperial Family is not in residence.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” the Dowager Countess said. “Of course the first step is asking ImpSec if it’s possible without compromising security, but it would be nice to bring my grandchildren here to see Empress Dimya’s roses. Stasia, in particular, has always loved them. She's noted for her roses, Stasia, I mean. And opening up the gardens would give access without needing to rearrange the schedule at this late date.”

“Probably,” Delia said. And also, most of the work would be done by ImpSec and the Visitor’s Office, not by the social secretaries. Tante Alys was not the only key member of the social staff on vacation. They had sufficient people for the few, small events on the schedule already. They did not have enough to whip up a new event at short notice. "You could talk to Lady Alys about putting a garden party on next summer's schedule."

“Provided I don't forget in the meantime," the Dowager Countess said. She looked up and brightened. "Ah, Stasia!” she said as her granddaughter entered. “What excellent timing! We were just discussing your suggestion of a garden party. Perhaps we’ll have one next year, but for this year, we shall see if we can open up the gardens a bit more for people to enjoy.”

“I do hope the omission of such an event is mere oversight,” Madam Vorreedi said, “and not a reflection of any … preferences or fears on the part of the Empress.”

Laisa did have a touch of the agoraphobia that Komarrans were prone to, but not very strongly. “Not at all,” Delia said with a smile. “She finds outdoor events quite charming. Which is part of the reason she and the Emperor will be attending the whole week of events around the Lorimel Derby Races. If there’s any one reason why there isn’t a garden party at the Residence this year, it’s that—between the Races and the Emperor’s personal retreat and the partial tour of the Vorbarra District he’s doing, there won’t be much time where the Emperor and Empress are actually in residence.”

“So she’s travelling with him, then?” Madam Vorreedi said. “Very devoted of her, of course; quite admirable. But if she’d stayed home, well, I’ve noticed she doesn’t really host many of her own events, does she? I’d hoped that having an Empress again would mean a return to the scale of entertaining Princess Kareen was known for.”

Madam Vorreedi had lost some of her subtlety since her marriage, Delia noted. She’d never have been that direct before. On the other hand, once she’d lost her chance at marrying the Emperor—or a Count, or Count’s heir, or into one of the handful of titled non-Count families—there was less reason to be circumspect.

“You were three years old when Princess Kareen died, Stasia,” said Dowager Countess Vorlakial with a laugh.

“But I’ve heard the stories,” Madam Vorreedi said. “And if Empress Laisa isn’t careful, Countess Vormorin will be known as the greatest hostess in Vorbarr Sultana, when it should rightfully be the Empress.”

“Hm,” said Delia. She wasn’t wrong, but Empress Laisa had far more projects in the works than Princess Kareen had been permitted. Hosting parties and soirees and balls and the like—and choosing who to honor, who to snub, and who to introduce to whom—had been the only sort of power or influence Kareen had been permitted. Laisa was free to work more directly, and often chose to do so.

“But I suppose you are here to tell me that I am running late,” the Dowager Countess said. “As usual.”

“Not yet, Grandmama,” Madam Vorreedi said with a smile. “But coming to collect you myself will save both of us no end of aggravation—and the children the disappointment of missing the first bit of the concert. Besides, you know I don't mind coming to visit you.”

And also, Delia noted silently, it was a good excuse for Madam Vorreedi to come to the Residence. She might not have the true prize—nor any title beyond Madam—but she had access to the Residence through her grandmother, and that was almost as good. There were Countesses who didn't have as much access as Madam Vorreedi did, and she used it.

“We’re going to a Children’s Theater event this evening,” the Dowager Countess told Delia. She gathered up her work items, realized something was missing, and began looking around for it.

“Don’t let me keep you from it,” Delia said. She picked up the stylus the Dowager Countess was probably looking for and handed it to her. “I hope you all have a lovely evening.”

“Thank you,” Madam Vorreedi said with a nod.

Delia stood to give them a proper curtsey, which they returned, before walking out of her office, arm-in-arm.

As they turned down the hall, the woman in unfashionable silk and an enormous bouffant hairstyle glided into view through the door, watching in the direction they had gone.

Delia sat frozen. This close, she could recognize the woman from her portrait.

The woman glanced at her, frowned, and turned back to follow the Dowager Countess and Madam Vorreedi.

This time, Delia didn’t bother reporting her.

What, after all, could ImpSec possibly do about a ghost?

***

“Not going to work this morning?" Duv asked when Delia joined him for toast and a piece of fruit the next morning.

“I’m taking a few hours off to go to the doctor,” Delia said. She was still in her bathrobe, and usually by this point in the morning she’d be out the door without eating. (She liked to breakfast in the Residence; they always had good food available for the staff, and it was much easier than preparing something herself this early in the morning.)

“Nothing serious, I hope?” Duv said, doing up his collar.

“It’s probably nothing,” Delia said. “But I thought I saw a ghost, yesterday, and I want to make sure there’s nothing neurological going on.”

“A ghost?” Duv frowned. “Here?”

They lived in a three-hundred-year-old building that had been converted into luxury flats a decade ago, so it was a logical assumption. “No,” Delia said. “At the Residence.”

“But you work in the wing that Cordelia burnt down,” Duv said. “And the Imperial Family aren’t in residence this week—why would you be in the old part of the Residence?”

“I was in my own office,” Delia said.

“Nobody’s died there since it was rebuilt, how would it get a ghost?” Duv asked.

“It was someone who died before it burned,” Delia said. “Just before.” In the very moments before it was set aflame, to hear Mama tell the story. “You believe in ghosts, Duv?”

“Of course I do,” Duv said. “They’re fairly common on Komarr. And I know Barrayarans believe in ghosts. That’s why you have so many ancestor veneration rituals.” He nodded to the shrine in the corner of the living room which you could just see from the dining room.

“Well, yes,” Delia said, feeling vaguely embarrassed. “And I do, sort of; at least, I don’t dis-believe. But I have very vivid memories of the time Tante Cordelia caught us girls telling ghost stories and gave us a talking-to about how there was no empirical evidence for the supernatural despite centuries of people trying to get it, and also, never to tell those stories where Gregor could hear. Or any galactic, if we didn’t want them to think we were stupid and provincial.”

Duv shrugged. “Betans. But of course, if science could analyze something, it wouldn’t be super-natural in the first place. Not all galactics are so relentlessly dismissive of anything that can’t be proved, you know.” He frowned. “Why was she worried about Gregor in particular?”

“The stories were about his mother, Princess Kareen,” Delia said. “Kareen—my sister—claimed she’d seen her a couple of times, mostly in the new wing. Olivia did, too, and we told ourselves she was looking for Vordarian to kill him, not realizing he was already dead. But we stopped telling those stories after that lecture.”

“I can see why she wouldn’t want you telling those stories around Gregor,” Duv said. “The last thing he needed was to worry about his mother being an unquiet spirit, or feel uncomfortable in his own home. It’s not like they could move him out of the Residence if he got scared.”

“No, not really,” Delia said. “Though that didn’t occur to us at the time; he was just enough older—and more serious—that I don’t think I would have believed he could be scared. I was only about nine or ten when we were telling those stories, you know.”

Duv nodded and hummed understanding through the bite he was chewing on. “So, do you know who the ghost is? Or at least what era? If they’re willing or able to talk, I’ve got a whole shipload of questions.”

“I know who it is,” Delia said, smiling. She could always tell he was relaxed and in a good mood when his passion for history came to the fore.

“Who?” Duv asked.

“Princess Kareen.”

***

As Delia had expected, the doctor found nothing; she was in perfect physical health. And the Residence's filtration systems were second only to ImpSec's filters in their thoroughness. The chances of environmental contamination causing hallucinations were practically non-existent.

So. The ghost of Princess Kareen probably was wandering around the Palace, or at least the wing she'd died in. Delia wondered if Gregor had ever seen her.

She found herself thinking back to the childhood ghost stories she and her sisters had told, and keeping an eye out for the Princess. But there was nothing. A few flickers in the corner of her eye that might have been something or just her imagination.

***

That night, she burned a lock of hair for Princess Kareen in the family shrine. Her mother had always included the Princess in the Koudelka family ancestor shrine, and Delia had continued that when she made one of her own. She had nothing to say to the older woman, no assurances to give or requests to make, so she simply watched the lock of hair burn and cleaned everything up.

***

"Any more ghost sightings?" Duv asked as they folded laundry together.

"No," Delia said. Duv was doing the folding; Delia was doing the fiddly bits of starching and ironing her dresses. If she didn't work in the Residence, she wouldn't bother with this level of precision, but given her job she had to look perfectly put together and correct any time she was out in public. "I've been keeping an eye out for her, but the only things I've seen have been things I might have imagined. You know how it is."

"When you're looking for something so hard that you're half convinced anything vaguely close might be it?" Duv said. "I do indeed."

"I've been remembering the stories we used to tell about her," Delia said. "We made up some pretty gruesome ones. Olivia was the best at it—not just with the ghost of Princess Kareen, but in general. One time she made the neighbor boy cry. I remember we told one of the stories to our parents, and Da was pretty shocked that his pretty, sweet girls were telling stories about beheadings and mutilations and unquiet ghosts dragging the unwary down to hell. Mama thought it was all in good fun."

"Do you remember any of the details of those stories?"

"No, not really, just the feeling of being scared and shocked in the fun way," Delia said. "Olivia might. Perhaps we should see if she remembers any of those old stories, and would share them at a family gathering."

Duv grinned. "I confess, I'm curious about the differences between Komarran ghost stories and Barrayaran ones."

"Maybe you should tell a few," Delia said.

"Maybe," Duv said. They worked in a companionable silence for a while. "I wonder two things, mainly. Well," he tilted his head, "three. But the two big ones are, why did she stop appearing to you when you were children, and why is she appearing again to you now?"

Delia shrugged. "I don't know. It might be that after Tante Cordelia told us off, we stopped looking."

"That doesn't sound like any of you," Duv said. "After hearing the stories your mother tells about you all, I'd expect being forbidden would be more an encouragement than discouragement."

Delia snorted. "We weren't half as bad as Miles was."

"That's not saying much," Duv said dryly.

"True. On the other hand, it might simply be that we started spending less time at the Residence. Gregor was getting older, and people were starting to notice us hanging around—I think there was a bit of gossip about our parents trying to 'ensnare' Gregor so he'd marry one of us instead of a Vor. And anyway, we were too much younger to be good playmates for him."

"And if you weren't around much, you couldn't see the ghost."

Delia didn't respond, dealing with a fiddly bit on a collar. She could take her laundry to a shop to be professionally handled, and then she wouldn't have to worry about things like this, and occasionally she was tempted. But then she and Duv wouldn't have the quiet time to talk, as they did now when doing the laundry.

"It might also be that I just decided it couldn't be real if Tante Cordelia didn't believe in it," Delia said once she was done with the collar. "I idolized her at that age."

"Did you ever see the Princess's ghost?"

"I don't remember, for sure," Delia said thoughtfully. "It was so long ago. I know Kareen saw her; we spooked her for a while, telling her that Princess Kareen was going to try to steal the body of her namesake so she could live again."

Duv snickered.

"I have vivid memories of some of the stories Olivia told," Delia said. "I don't know. I might have seen her? But I might also simply have been imagining things from the stories."

Duv hummed an understanding sound. As an ImpSec officer, he knew better than most how unreliable memory and eyewitness accounts could be, especially of things from a person's childhood. "It still doesn't answer why she's appearing to you now; you've been working in the Residence for a few years, and I would have thought you'd have seen any ghosts long before this."

"I wonder if anyone else has seen her," Delia said. "Or if I'm the only one. And I wonder if I have seen her before, and just didn't recognize her? But the hairstyle and the dress are so distinctive, surely I'd remember."

"I'd expect so," Duv said. "Given your sharp eye for fashion, and how observant you are in general." He finished the last of the folding and stood up to put the piles of clothes away.

"What was your third question?" Delia asked.

"Hm?"

"Your third question," Delia said. "You wanted to know why she stopped appearing to us kids, and why she's appearing to me now. What was the third one?"

"If there's any way to interview her," Duv said. "I'd bet her perspective on Ezar and Serg and Vordarian and the general socio-political milieu she lived in would be fascinating."

Delia laughed and turned back to her work as Duv started putting clothes away.

***

The third time Delia saw the ghost of Princess Kareen was at a party. It was at the Residence, but it was a small affair—a reception in honor of some minor accomplishment on the part of some Vorbarr Sultana civic group that was mainly an excuse for those High Vor who remained in the capital over the summer to gather and glitter to each other. The Imperial Family was still in the District, so Lady Alys was presiding, which made things much easier on Delia and her staff. The lowered security alone was a boon.

There wasn't any dancing this evening—that would be too large an event to be held in the Emperor's absence—merely dinner and speeches followed by chamber music and conversation in an interconnected set of salon rooms on the east side of the main block of the Residence. It was a little-used set of rooms gaudily decorated in the extravagant style of the first few years after the end of the Time of Isolation, when galactic materials had started coming in and the price of gemstones had fallen and people had gone a little wild with possibility. They'd chosen it mainly because they liked to rotate events through the public spaces of the Residence and neither Gregor nor Laisa particularly cared for it, which made it perfect for use in their absence.

Delia hadn't been looking for the ghost, that night; so far, Kareen had only appeared in the wing that she had died in, and that was on the other side of the main bulk of the building, with a few small courtyards in between here and there to boot.

But Delia placed her wine glass on a passing servant's tray, turned around, and there she was—the Princess. Not three feet away, staring at Delia, eyes wide, mouth open as if she were screaming.

The sound of the chamber quartet felt like it was coming from a long ways away.

Kareen reached out to her. Delia lifted a hand in response, but fell short.

She glanced around to see if anyone else was reacting to the ghost. Nothing. The people she could barely hear were talking and drinking as usual.

When she glanced back, the Princess was gone, and the sounds of the party came rushing back.

Delia looked around, to see if Kareen was still there. This was different than the other appearances. Then, she had been tranquil; now, something was wrong. She caught a flash of green out of the corner of her eye and turned to follow it.

And crashed straight into Madam Vorreedi.

"Oh! I'm terribly sorry, madam," Delia said as she stepped back and disentangled herself, glad at least that neither had been holding wine glasses.

"You should be, Madam Galeni," Madam Vorreedi said crossly, adjusting her dress. It was new, and slightly more formal than Delia would have worn to an event like this; not quite a ballgown, but verging on it, with voluminous skirts that would sweep the floor gloriously in a waltz but mostly just got in the way of standing around talking. She stalked off to talk to someone else, and Delia scanned the room again for any sign of the ghost.

Nothing.

***

"I saw the ghost again, today," Delia told Duv as they got ready for bed. She stripped off her stockings and tossed them in the hamper, wriggling her toes on the carpet. "At the party. It was a lot more dramatic, this time. She was upset, and for just a moment it felt like the world fell away and it was only the two of us. Then she was gone."

"Did anyone else see her?" Duv asked, watching as she hung up her gown in the bag that would go to the cleaners.

"Not that I know of," Delia said. "Nobody else seemed to be looking at her. But then, I haven't told anyone at the Residence about her, either, so someone else may have and I don't know about it. Perhaps I'll ask around."

Duv nodded. "At the party—that means she's not confined to the North Wing where she died."

"She was wearing the same outfit, though," Delia said. "Same hairstyle. Which is not the outfit and style she died in—she'd come from Vordarian's bed."

"I didn't know that," Duv said, intrigued.

"What, Mama's never told you the story of rescuing baby Miles and killing the Pretender?" Delia asked, surprised. "Ask her—or Da—next time we see them. They both tell their parts of the story well. They were both on that raid, you know, though Da had to escort Lady Alys and baby Ivan to safety and wasn't there for the end parts."

"I will definitely do that," Duv said, and Delia smiled. She always appreciated when Duv-the-historian poked out from the focused ImpSec analyst; he was cute, and a little softer than normal. "Back to the ghost, though, I wonder what she wants. If this were a Komarran ghost story, she'd be looking for someone to possess, to try and regain her life."

"If this were a Barrayaran ghost story, she'd be looking for some way to take her revenge on the traitor who wronged her," Delia said.

"She's too late for that," Duv pointed out. "Vordarian and his top men either died fighting or were executed. Nobody left to take vengeance on."

"In Mama's stories, she doesn't seem to me the type of person who'd lay in wait for bloody revenge, either," Delia said. "Too practical. Too focused on surviving and protecting Gregor."

Duv hummed and nodded, still halfway in his history professor mindset. "Have you noticed any similarities between the encounters?"

"I've been thinking about that," Delia said. "Other than her clothing and the first two happening in the North Wing where she died, the only commonality is the presence of Madam Vorreedi."

"Vorreedi?" Duv said. "I don't know her."

"She's Dowager Countess Vorlakial's favorite granddaughter," Delia said, "and the only one who lives in the capital, so she's in our offices fairly regularly—her grandmother is an excellent hostess, but not always as organized or timely as one might wish. Stasia Vorlakial was one of the top candidates for Gregor's hand, when Lady Alys first started seriously pushing him to marry; her father's District is wealthy and populous, she's pretty, and marrying her would have given Gregor a bit more influence to keep her father in line. He never gave her any serious attention, though, and eventually she turned her attention to other potential husbands. She was ambitious, but not terribly so; she turned down Lord Vormorin when he asked her to marry him."

"Smart woman," Duv said.

"It doesn't matter how large and glittering your parties are if you're miserable and mistreated whenever you're not in public," Delia agreed. Lord—now Count—Vormorin's temper and vices were well known. "Anyway, he responded by spreading rumors about her that caused at least two prospective suitors to back off. She eventually married slightly beneath her—an untitled high Vor who'd used his allowance and the family influence to go into business, and done quite well for himself. From what her grandmother tells me, it's a stable relationship, and she's already plotting her oldest daughter's entrance to the social scene in a few years. Her bloodline plus her husband's money should make for quite a splash on the marriage market."

"What's Madam Vorreedi like as a person?" Duv asked.

Delia shrugged. "I don't know her well; we've been at a lot of the same parties, and she comes to visit her grandmother any excuse she gets, but we were never part of the same set and she's a few years older than I am. Her friends are all snobs; she probably is too, because these days even a High Vor can't maintain a Vor-only social circle by accident. But she never made any of the cutting remarks or open snubs that her friends did."

"All in all, she sounds like a fairly ordinary Vor lady," Duv said.

"She is," Delia said. "If she is a common factor, I've no idea what would draw Princess Kareen's ghost to her." If Madam Vorreedi were being abused, or harassed, or was having to trade on her looks and body to survive, that might be one thing; Delia knew enough of the truth about Princess Kareen's life to know the woman her mother had served would probably want to look out for someone suffering the same way she had. But as far as Delia knew, Madam Vorreedi had a perfectly ordinary and satisfying life, albeit a rung or two down the social ladder from where she might have expected to end up. And Delia was quite certain that if there was abuse or other serious problems in Madam Vorreedi's marriage, Dowager Countess Vorlakial would have at least hinted at it.

"Does she look like anyone Princess Kareen might have known or cared about?"

"Not that I know," Delia said. "I don't think the Princess had many friends, by the end; no sisters, not close with her brothers, and Serg's jealousy kept her from getting close to people after she married him." Delia considered, and remembered her earlier comment about revenge. "Madam Vorreedi is the Pretender's cousin once removed, and she does have the Vordarian profile."

Duv waived a hand. "That could also describe at least ten percent of the people at the party tonight, given Vor inbreeding."

"True," Delia said.

"On the subject of looking like people, you look a lot like your mother did at your age," Duv pointed out. "Maybe that's why the ghost is showing up to you now. Your mother rarely attends events at the Residence these days … but you do."

"Why would a ghost need a bodyguard?" Delia asked. She turned back the covers and climbed into bed.

"I have no idea," Duv said, climbing in the other side of the bed.

Delia settled in and closed her eyes. She was drifting off to sleep when she realized. "What if it's not the ghost that needs a bodyguard?" she asked. "What if there's some danger to Gregor? Mama was his bodyguard, too."

"He wasn't even in the same town as the ghost tonight, though," Duv said. "But I'll ask them to bump up the alert level on his security, temporarily."

***

The next day, Delia called her mother.

"Princess Kareen's ghost?" Mama said, in some surprise. "I know you girls used to try to scare yourselves with stories about her, but nobody else ever saw her." There was a hint of wistfulness in her voice.

"Did you want to see her?" Delia asked.

"I'd prefer her rest was undisturbed of course," Mama said. "But I wouldn't mind seeing her one last time, to say good-bye. Everything was so frantic, the morning she died. It was so sudden."

"You're welcome to come visit me at the Residence, of course," Delia said. Mama had a better right to be there, as the Emperor's former bodyguard, than any of the guests the rest of the social secretaries invited in. "I can't guarantee she'll show up while you're there, but you can try."

"I may do that," Mama said.

"What do you think she wants?" Delia asked. "There's nobody left to take revenge on."

"No," Mama said. "Between Emperor Ezar and your Tante Cordelia and her own actions, nobody who did her serious wrong outlived her. As to any other motivation to leave her grave …" Mama sighed. "It's hard to say. By the time I knew her, she had pared herself down to the essentials. Of the things she wanted and needed, she was permitted so little. Her entire focus, when I knew her, was to protect Gregor and herself, in that order, as much as she was able to. Everything else was … only on the surface."

What a sad life it must have been. Mama had been careful, when they were little, not to say too much about Kareen's life that didn't fit with what was publicly known. In particular, Delia didn't know that she'd ever heard her mother mention the late Prince Serg more than in passing. Which, when you added that to all the little hints Delia had put together as an adult, was telling.

"I'll let you know if I think of anything," Mama said.

"Thank you," Delia said.

***

Delia started asking discreetly around, and found that while other people had, on occasion, seen something out of the corner of their eye that might have been the ghost of Princess Kareen, she was the only one who had seen her fully and recognized her for who she was.

"Hardly surprising that she'd haunt this wing, new though it is," Dowager Countess Vorlakial said. "Poor dear. Though at least she's not in the private portions where the Emperor might have to deal with the unquiet ghost of his mother roaming the halls when he's trying to sleep."

"We should probably burn an offering," Delia said. "And I'll have to tell the Emperor," she realized. "He'll probably want to burn an offering, too." Gregor had been raised by Tante Cordelia, and her cool Betan logic had been even more of an influence on him than on Delia and her sisters; she didn't know if he believed in ghosts or not. Still, he should know and have the chance to make the decision to burn an offering himself. For the first time, she realized she should have asked him what he wanted before mentioning his mother's ghost to others. Now that a few people knew, it would spread; and if he didn't burn an offering, there would be talk.

"Your mother was quite close to her," the Dowager Countess said. "So was Lady Alys. They should know, so that they can burn an offering; and either would know if there is anyone else who should be notified." She sighed. "It's been so long, and I was never of the Princess's set; I can't think who else should be notified besides her brother, Count Vorinnis. Lady Alys would probably be best for that, as a friend of the Princess." After the dinner party, Lady Alys had gone to attend a house party given by Count Vorpatril in his District. Several of the leading lights of the Conservative Party were also in attendance, and while Lady Alys would make little headway on political matters, her presence would nevertheless serve as a conduit for unofficial contact between the factions, providing a bit of the social glue that kept the Council of Counts as functional as it ever was.

"I'll ask her," Delia said.

***

"This is news that should be broken in person," Lady Alys said over the comconsole. "He'll be back in a few days—do you want me to come and tell him?"

"No," Delia said. "I'm the one who's seen her, so he'll probably want to talk to me anyways. You should stay with your cousin." For all that Tante Alys liked to talk about stepping back and handing responsibility to Laisa and her staff, she had a hard time actually doing it. Delia knew from experience that if Alys came back now, she would dive back into work beyond just notifying Gregor of the ghost, never mind that she was supposed to be on vacation. On more than one occasion, it had taken Uncle Simon to extract Tante Alys from the Residence when she was supposed to be on vacation.

"Very well," Lady Alys said. "I'll give you a list of Kareen's close friends—though I warn you, it isn't long. Kareen kept most people at arms' length until they had proven themselves trustworthy; she had many allies, and many hangers-on, but few true friends. Nobody she would regret losing if their husbands joined factions opposed to Ezar."

In other words, Delia noted to herself, nobody whose husbands might support Serg. Delia enjoyed the social whirl of the capital, loved the dresses and the music and the parties, and above all she loved the exercise of soft power, influencing Barrayar's upper classes through social levers. But her life didn't depend on it, and if she'd wanted to do something else she could have done almost anything she wanted. Kareen had played the same game with less freedom and higher stakes. "Well," Delia said. "It's just as well—Gregor will probably want something small and intimate."

***

People walked around the North Wing a bit more cautiously as they waited for Gregor to come and burn his offering, though nobody saw Princess Kareen in the meantime, not even Delia.

***

"Usually, when people ask to see me, they don't get an appointment without telling my secretary at least the general gist of what they want," Gregor observed neutrally. He and Laisa were seated on one of the two couches in his office; Delia was sitting in the other, directly across from them. "If this were a matter of social planning, you would not have been this coy with Kevi."

"It's a personal matter, Sire," Delia said. "I've seen a ghost in the North Wing and some salons in the East Block. Nobody else has got a good look at it, but others have seen little bits of it."

"A ghost," Gregor said. He glanced at Laisa, then back to Delia. "Whose ghost?"

"Your mother, Sire," Delia said. "It was unmistakably Princess Kareen."

Gregor turned his head and looked at a landscape painting on the wall, reaching out blindly to grasp Laisa's hand. "Have you burned an offering yet?"

"Not in the Residence," Delia said. "By the time I realized what was going on, you were going to be back soon, and we thought we should wait."

"Very considerate of you," he said, quietly, the way he had when they were children and he was tired or hurting and didn't want to show it. With his face turned away, she couldn't tell any more than that.

"I've read about offerings, of course," Laisa said, and Delia blessed her silently for speaking and allowing her husband time to compose himself, "but I've never seen one. Should I come? Should I burn something, too? In this context, what is it for?"

"It's for a number of things," Delia said, when Gregor didn't answer. "Respect, remembrance, appeasement—a loved one might burn an offering to provide comfort to the spirit; an enemy might burn an offering to try and convince the ghost to leave them alone. You could burn something if you wanted; as her daughter-in-law it's your responsibility to see that a proper offering is made, but not necessarily to do it yourself. And to help your children with it until they're old enough to make an offering themselves."

Laisa nodded.

"Have you plotted out exactly where she died, or as close as we can get to it?" Gregor asked, still looking at the painting.

"Yes, sire," Delia said. "It's a conference room, now."

Gregor nodded.

"Would you like a private ceremony, or will you allow the staff to be present?" Delia turned to Laisa. "None of us knew her, but as people who work in the places where her ghost has been, many of the staff would like to pay our respects."

"I'd like it to be private," Gregor said. "Just the family, and Count Vorinnis and Lady Alys and Drou if they want to come. The staff can make their own offerings at another time."

"Of course, Sire," Delia said.

***

"Is the staff scared of the ghost?" Laisa asked, afterwards, when she and Delia had retreated to Laisa's office.

"Many are," Delia said. "Either about what the ghost might do, or about the bad luck ghosts often bring with them."

"You're not afraid, though," Laisa said, looking her up and down.

"No," Delia said. "My mother was her bodyguard, and probably her closest confidant. She's an ancestor in my family shrine. I doubt she'd do anything to hurt me, and ghosts are only bad luck when they're other peoples' ghosts. Or when you don't light proper offerings."

"Gregor didn't look afraid, to me," Laisa said. "He looked sad."

"She was his mother," Delia said. "Nobody wants to think of someone they loved being driven or called out of their grave."

"Of course," Laisa said. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not much besides burning offerings for her," Delia said.

The conversation turned to upcoming social events, where they were in the planning for them, and what Laisa's specific hostessing duties would be at each of them.

"And we might want to have a garden party next summer," Delia said towards the end. "It's too late to get one onto the schedule for this year, but it's been noted that we haven't done one in some time."

"You have a specific type of party for gardens?" Laisa asked, delighted as she often was by some minutia of etiquette that was different from Komarr's. "Of course you do. The idea is charming. Tell me more about what they're like—or, no, we don't have time today," she said, checking her chrono. "And next summer is a ways off, yet."

"Of course," Delia said, gathering her materials.

"I'm sorry to cut this short," Laisa said. "I've only got two hours to read a whole briefing book, before my meeting with the Minister of Galactic Trade. I think I'm finally making some headway with him, but every time I don't have even the smallest fact perfectly to hand in the moment, I can just see him start to doubt."

"Good luck," Delia said.

"Oh, I don't need luck," Laisa said. "Preparation and a solid strategy beat luck every time—especially now that I'm Empress and he can't just dismiss my ideas even when he wants to."

***

Delia wasn't invited to the Emperor's offering, and Lady Alys handled the arrangements; Count Vorinnis and her mother and Lady Alys joined the Emperor the next day in the conference room that was now where the hall Kareen had died in used to be.

Empress Laisa wasn't present; the Crown Prince had been deemed too young to make an offering himself, although a lock of his hair would be burned along with his father's and a gene scan of the younger brother who was currently gestating in a uterine replicator. Laisa would be with him, instead of making an offering herself. Not that she was needed for childcare, but it was an acceptable excuse for her not to be present. Count Vorinnis was currently a vocal opponent of one of Laisa's policy proposals, and nobody wanted politics to intrude.

After they were done, the room was left available for anyone who worked in that wing to make an offering of their own; another brazier was set up in the gardens outside for the rest of the staff.

Delia made another offering, of course; actually, she made two, one in the conference room and one at home.

***

The offering in the conference room was merely the standard lock of hair; perfectly unexceptionable, perfectly correct in etiquette.

The offering in the ancestor shrine at home was different. "You didn't die in vain, Princess Kareen," Delia murmured, watching the flimsies burn. "Your son's rule is stable, he's happy and healthy, and his wife is a wonderful woman who's not trapped as you were."

"Can I ask what you burned?" Duv asked when she was done. "Or is that private?"

"It can be," Delia said. "What the offerings mean is private, but not always the objects themselves. But I don't mind. This time, I burned an ImpSec security bulletin for the Residence with a low threat level, and a copy of the upcoming social schedule, and one of Laisa's policy proposals."

Duv thought about that for a minute. "The security bulletin, to show that her son is safe and his throne secure," he said slowly. "The social schedule, because she was a noted hostess?"

Delia nodded.

"I don't understand the policy proposal, though," Duv admitted.

"Princess Kareen's live was very … circumscribed," Delia said. "I wanted her to see that her daughter-in-law isn't restricted, the way Kareen was. I think she'd like to know things are better now. I would, if I were her."

***

Nobody saw the ghost again for another week or so after that, and people started to relax. Madam Vorreedi had visited a few times and there had been no apparitions following her around. Delia still kept an eye out, but then, it was her job to be observant and alert for anything out of place.

It was good that people were settling down; the fall session of the Council of Counts was starting in less than a month and the High Vor were trickling back into the capital. And of course Tante Alys was back, and she would never permit superstition to interfere in the running of their office, especially not at such a crucial time. The number and variety of social events at the Residence was beginning to pick back up, although they wouldn't be into the full whirl of things until the Council Opening Ball marked the opening of the social calendar. Which meant things were very busy in the offices of the social secretaries.

Not only with the official business of organizing everything, but with the social lives of the staff. Most of them had a daughter or sister or niece or cousin or friend or someone who was looking for a husband, and the connections and information that came with their work were definite advantages in the marriage market. As long as it didn't affect their work or the Emperor's political moves, Lady Alys didn't care.

"I've lost track," Delia admitted to Dowager Countess Vorlakial as they chatted before a meeting. "Do you have a granddaughter coming out this year?"

"Yes, my youngest," the Dowager Countess said with a smile. "Lysl. Her first ball will be the Council Opening Ball. Stasia has taken her under her wing, and is being such a help."

Delia almost asked why she wasn't attending the ball that Countess Vormorin had just announced she would be hosting three days before the Council Opening Ball. It had surprised everyone, and there were all sorts of rumors flying about the musicians and the decorations and the refreshments—there was supposed to be some sort of surprise, which Delia was deeply curious about. It was an obvious attempt to undermine the primacy of the Council Opening Ball as the start of the social season, and it seemed to be working; it was currently the most sought-after invitation in Vorbarr Sultana. But of course no Vorlakial had gone to a social event hosted by now-Count Vormorin since the disastrous end to his courtship of Stasia Vorlakial.

"Madam Vorreedi has excellent taste, and I'm sure she'll be quite a help."

"I'm so lucky to have her," Dowager Countess Vorlakial said. "I'm getting too old to both work here and chaperone a girl around town during the season; and Lysl's mother … well."

Lysl Vorlakial's mother had been born a prole, the daughter of a wealthy industrialist, and a good match for a younger son who would not be inheriting and had no particular martial aptitudes. But she had never quite mastered the nuances of the High Vor social scene. "If you're thinking about retiring, do let us know ahead of time," Delia said. "You would be difficult to replace." It wasn't just her skills and connections that would be missed; anyone of similar rank they brought in might think that she would be the one to take over from Tante Alys when she retired, with prole Delia stuck as a permanent assistant. Dowager Countess Vorlakial had no such ambitions and was content that, when the time came, she would pass seamlessly from being Lady Alys's deputy to Delia's.

"That's kind of you to say, dear, and I will try not to blind-side you when the time comes," she said. "But I'm not planning on stepping down any time soon."

The meeting started; it was a simple run-down of where they were in the arrangements for the Council Opening Ball. Everything was right on schedule, and the only issues so far were minor ones.

"Should we consider expanding the event in some way?" one of the junior members of the team said hesitantly once the reports were done. "Countess Vormorin is … sort of stealing the Emperor's thunder."

"And that should by all means be avoided, if possible," Tante Alys said briskly. "Does anyone have suggestions?"

"It would have to be something extravagant," Delia said. "There's no point in upending our schedule at this late date for something mediocre."

Unsurprisingly, several people had interesting suggestions; Lady Alys's staff was very good. A list of possibilities was created, and once they'd run out of ideas they evaluated each one. None had the right mix of being both impressive enough and something they could pull off in time, though several got noted down as ideas for future events.

"It's better to save the impressiveness for a future event than risk something going wrong at the Council Opening Ball," Lady Alys said at last. "We shall keep our existing plans for the Ball, and focus on making Winterfair an event that no mere Countess could upstage." The meeting broke up soon after, although a number of people stayed to chat.

Delia didn't leave immediately; it was close to the end of the work day, and everything left in her inbox could wait a day or two, which made it a perfect time for informal chats and touching bases with people. She was in the middle of a conversation with one of the under-secretaries when Princess Kareen appeared in the doorway, eyes wide and full of tears, staring at Delia.

"Madam Galeni?" the under-secretary said.

"Sorry," Delia said, tearing her eyes away from the ghost. She answered the under-secretary's question and the woman thanked her and left.

"You look as though you've seen a ghost," Dowager Countess Vorlakial said, voice filled with foreboding.

"I have," Delia said quietly. "She was just here. In the doorway." And Madam Vorreedi wasn't. Which eliminated that common thread of the encounters.

"And from the look of her, young Velana did as well," Vorlakial said, nodding at someone over Delia's shoulder.

Delia looked, and sure enough, Velana Vorbretten—one of the many junior secretaries—was pale and staring at the doorway. Delia and Vorlakial went over to her.

"You saw her?" Velana said.

"Yes," Delia said. "You needn't be scared. I don't think she's out for revenge; everyone she might have wanted revenge on has been dead for three decades, at this point. And all the times I've seen her, she's never seemed violent."

"It's not that," Velana said. "It's just … she was so sad."

"Well, this is near where she died," Delia pointed out. It was next door to the room they'd done the offerings in.

"One wonders why she appeared now, though," Dowager Countess Vorlakial said. "Princess Kareen was a great hostess, but I would expect her to haunt parties, not planning sessions."

"Maybe she's upset that her son's ball is being upstaged?" Velana said.

"I doubt that even such a noted hostess as the Princess would find that a tragedy worth coming out of her grave for," Delia said.

"And Princess Kareen's response to someone challenging her place as head of the social scene was not to grieve, but to demolish the opposition and put them in their place," the Dowager Countess said. "Well! It is something to consider."

As Delia and Vorlakial left the conference room, they found Madam Vorreedi and her cousin Lysl waiting.

"Grandmama!" Lysl said, practically bouncing on her toes. "I do hope we're not intruding—Stasia said it would be fine to visit you here—I couldn't wait to show you what the gowns are going to look like!"

"Of course, dear," the Dowager Countess said indulgently.

So, Delia thought to herself. Kareen is connected to Madam Vorreedi in some way.

***

"I still have no idea what the connection might be," Delia said that night to Duv.

"Neither do I," Duv said. "I pulled her file." ImpSec had files on every girl who'd been considered as a match for Gregor. "Nothing out of the ordinary, no connection to the Princess that I could see, no disaffection or connection to any groups on our watchlist. She serves as her husband's hostess, she has no job of her own but sits on the board of several charities, and her major hobby is gardening—she's a member of the Vorbarr Sultana Horticultural Guild. Her file hasn't been updated in some time, beyond the ordinary sort of biographical detail we keep track of in all High Vor."

Delia shrugged. "I don't see that there's anything to be done besides keep making offerings for Kareen and keep my eyes open."

Duv nodded.

"Any Komarran words of wisdom for dealing with a ghost?"

"Not really," Duv said. "Or, there might be some, but I don't know it. I was too busy as a kid to spend much time listening to ghost stories and folk tales."

Delia knew what he had been doing, and changed the subject.

***

The day of Countess Vormorin's ball was a busy one for Delia; there was a presentation of awards to a selection of students who had done noteworthy projects in the morning, and tea in the afternoon in honor of the Vordrozda Center for the Performing Arts. Since Madam Vorreedi was on the board of Vordrozda Center, Delia was on alert.

Gregor had done the awards in the morning, and Laisa was doing the tea; they sometimes split the minor events up like that, so that both could maximize their time doing more important work.

The tea went smoothly. The food was good, the speeches went well, the conversation flowed easily. Once the programmed aspect of the event was done and all that was left was the socializing, Delia circulated among the ladies, nurturing the connections that her work required.

She was in the middle of a conversation on the latest fashions—gloves seemed to be coming back in style—when a flash of green caught her eye, and she excused herself to look around.

Princess Kareen's ghost was looking in through the windows, face contorted with emotion, mouth working as if she were trying to speak. The hum of conversation and the clink of teacups and saucers faded from Delia's ears, and she turned to follow where the ghost was looking.

She seemed to be looking at Madam Vorreedi and Laisa, who were speaking together. Delia stared, trying to see what was agitating Princess Kareen.

There! Almost without thinking, Delia took three long steps and grabbed Madam Vorreedi's gloved wrist.

"Madam Galeni, what are you doing?" Madam Vorreedi said. "Let go of me."

Laisa, eyes wide, had backed up a few steps, and the crowd was beginning to turn to watch the altercation.

"Of course," Delia said quietly. "After you drop whatever's in your hand. You don't want to make a scene, do you? Your grandmother would be so disappointed."

"I—it's only a leaf," Madam Vorreedi said.

"Then you won't mind if ImpSec scans it," Delia said. "Show it to me."

Madam Vorreedi turned her hand over and opened it. Delia sucked in a breath. That was Rosy Corpseweed. It was a native Barrayaran plant, and it was deadly. It was also rare, and native to the South Continent; if Delia hadn't had to undergo basic security training to work in the Residence, she'd never have known what it was. There was no way for it to have gotten here, to Vorbarr Sultana, by accident.

Delia looked up at the armsman who had come to see what the trouble was, and angled Madam Vorreedi's hand so he could see what was in it.

His eyes went wide and his hand fell to the stunner on his hip. At a hand signal, an ImpSec guard approached. "Madam, you will come with us now."

Delia relinquished Madam Vorreedi's hand and let the two security men take her away. She looked up to see if Kareen was still there. She was; there were tears in her eyes, but she was smiling. She nodded, and Delia nodded back. Then Princess Kareen turned and vanished. There were a few gasps throughout the room.

That ought to be good for a public-relations boost for Laisa, Delia thought to herself. People seeing Princess Kareen's ghost working to protect her Komarran daughter-in-law. She wondered if she should wash her hands; she couldn't remember how deadly the poison was, or how much contact you needed for an effect. And there was no way to know how much residue might have been on Madam Vorreedi's gloves.

"Thank you, Madam Galeni," Laisa said. "That leaf she had, it was poisonous?"

"Yes," Delia said.

Another Vorbarra armsman was at Laisa's side now. "Ma'am, we should take you to a secure location." ImpSec officers were flooding into the room and Delia sighed at the thought of the hours of paperwork and reports she'd have to make.

"Of course," Laisa said.

***

"I haven't seen the report, yet," Duv said that evening. Being head of Komarran Affairs, a purely home-grown assassination attempt was outside his field. "Have they figured out why she targeted Laisa? Was she jealous that she didn't get to be Empress?"

"Not really," Delia said. She considered. "Sort of. Actually, it mostly seems to be resentment of Countess Vormorin."

"But she turned down the chance to be Countess Vormorin, and she hates Count Vormorin," Duv said, baffled.

"She's not jealous, she just thinks the entire Vormorin family should be humbled and humiliated after the way they spoiled her chances," Delia said. "Apparently, she's been quietly furious that Countess Vormorin is the rising star in the Vorbarr Sultana social scene, and that Laisa hasn't been entertaining on a scale to leave Vormorin in the dust. By killing her, she'd cast a pall over any entertainment Countess Vormorin tried to hold, and also open up the field so that Gregor might marry someone else—someone who might put Countess Vormorin in her place. And Count Vormorin with her."

Duv shook his head. "Why didn't she try to poison Countess Vormorin? Or the Count himself? That would solve the problem more directly."

"Couldn't get close enough," Delia said. "Everyone in town knows about the Vorlakial/Vormorin feud, and what caused it. If Stasia Vorlakial Vorreedi showed up to an event that Count and Countess Vormorin were at, everyone would be watching. Not that anybody would have suspected assassination, but it would be the hottest gossip in town. What I don't understand is why she was willing to hurt her family this way—she has to know what it will do to their standing, and especially her cousin Lysl who is supposed to make her debut this year."

"She probably thought nobody would have connected it with her," Duv said. "Rosy Corpseweed is deadly, but doesn't act quickly, and it's not on the standard tox screens because it's so rare. If she managed to smuggle the leaf out with her the same way she smuggled it in, nobody would have known when and how Laisa was exposed to it, even after we'd figured out she was poisoned."

"It's such a flimsy plan," Delia said. "And even with her explanation I'm not sure why she fixated on the Empress."

"People do crazy things, sometimes," Duv said. "It's what makes security work so difficult—if only everyone committed treason sensibly, my job would be a lot easier."

"I'm glad I don't have your job," she said. "Mine is quite enough for me."

"Oh, I don't know, you did a good enough job today," Duv said. "Your mother will be proud."

"And probably sorry she wasn't there to see the Princess," Delia said. "They were very close." She paused. "I wonder if we'll see the ghost again, or if Princess Kareen will rest easier now her daughter-in-law is out of danger."

"It'll be interesting to see," Duv said. "But I guarantee you that if she does show up again, ImpSec and the Vorbarra armsmen will be on high alert."

"Listened to in death the way she wasn't in life," Delia said with a sigh.

***

The next day came a painful interview with Dowager Countess Vorlakial. Tante Alys hosted the three of them in her apartments, not in the Residence. The Dowager Countess had been cleared with fast-penta and had known nothing about her granddaughter's plans, but if they met in their usual offices in the Residence, there would be gossip.

Dowager Countess Vorlakial looked as if she had aged five years overnight. Her toilette was impeccable as always, but her face was gray and drawn.

"I'm so very sorry, Lady Alys," she said, eyes fixed on the teacup in her hands. "I should have known. We've always been close, and I dine with her family at least once a week."

"She herself said she knew you would not approve her plans, and also that she did not want you to be implicated if she were caught," Tante Alys said.

"I thought I knew her," the Dowager Countess said. "I thought … I knew she was restless, and a bit bored; her husband doesn't entertain on the scale she would like, you know. They could afford more, but he only cares for the sort of parties that will make connections for his company. When their children are of an age to be launched in society that will change, but in the meantime, I encouraged her to be more active in her charity work and come to events at the Residence. All of the fun and none of the work. And I knew she'd never let go of her hatred of Vormorin, and honestly I don't blame her after what he said about her. But I still don't see—none of that was the Emperor's fault, and it certainly wasn't Empress Laisa's!" She shook her head. "I just can't believe she'd do such a thing."

Delia thought that Stasia Vorreedi might have been better off with some occupation other than being a Vor Lady. Something to do with her time besides run a household and work the social scene and coo over her children when the nanny brought them in for inspection. Take classes, get a job, something that would have given her more to do than fret over a decade-old slander and drawn her out into the larger world where nobody cared about it. But Delia didn't say anything; what was the point, at this late date? The Vorlakials were conservative, but even if they'd been willing to support their daughter in some novel endeavor, she doubted Stasia herself would ever have chosen it. She was too much a woman of her class, too conscious of her heritage. Kareen had been trapped by her position and her husband and the time she had lived in. Stasia Vorreedi had been trapped mostly by her own pride.

"The question is, what now?" Tante Alys said, not unkindly.

"My son has already disowned her," the Dowager Countess said. "And Vorreedi has begun divorce proceedings. I may be given custody of her daughters—nobody else in the family wants them, and it's not their fault, poor dears. Lysl will postpone her debut, to give things time to settle down." She drew herself up and met Lady Alys's eyes for the first time since sitting down. "And of course I shall be resigning my post. I am so sorry, Lady Alys, for the scandal I have inadvertently brought to your office."

"We shall miss you, dear Lady Genevie," Tante Alys said.

"It wasn't your fault," Delia said. "Nobody could have predicted that her curdled hate and jealousy of the Vormarins would result in treason against the Empress. And yes, we'll miss you; you'll be very hard to replace."

"That's very kind of you to say," the Dowager Countess said bleakly. "But whether it's true or not won't stop people saying otherwise."

"I wish you well in all your endeavors," Lady Alys said. "If you should need anything, don't hesitate to ask. Your granddaughter's treason does not outweigh your loyal service."

***

Once the Dowager Countess had left, Delia turned to Tante Alys. "How do you think Princess Kareen knew, when no one else did?"

"Princess Kareen was a very astute woman," Tante Alys said. "She always did know better than anybody else what was happening in the Residence; it was how she was as effective as she was, despite everything. And of course she loved her son very much."

"Of course," Delia said. "Let's hope she alerts us again, if there's another threat nobody notices."

"Let's hope that isn't necessary," Tante Alys said tartly.

"I'm not quite that naïve," Delia said. "ImpSec does its best, but nobody—and no intelligence service—is perfect." She changed the subject. "How do you think this will affect the Council Opening Ball tomorrow?"

Tante Alys grimaced. "Besides the gossip and Lady Genevie's departure leaving us shorthanded, it will affect several of the political alliances in the Council of Counts," she said.

Delia grimaced and began thinking through the likely chain of reactions, and she and Tante Alys began working up a plan to mitigate—and take advantage of—the fractures. She wondered if Princess Kareen, the legendary hostess, was watching over this, too, and hoped she was happy with their efforts.

#fiction #fanfiction #fanfic #vorkosigan

[robininthelabyrinth]

My fandom5k requests/prompts (all MDZS variants)

Request 1: MDZS novel

Characters/Pairings:    Cángsè Sǎnrén/Lán Qǐrén/Wèi Chǎngzé (MDZS) Character: Lan Qiren (MDZS) Lán Qǐrén & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn (MDZS) Lan Qiren/Nie Huaisang (MDZS) Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén & Lán Qǐrén (MDZS)

Prompt:

I would love some Lan Qiren-centric hurt/comfort or darkfic, though with a happy (satisfying?) ending. Just about any pairing would be good! I typically prefer canon-divergence plots, but whole shift AUs other than mundane modern AUs are also OK (if they're cool).

General LQR notes: I like him with both good aspects and bad: he's rigid, hierarchical, and conservative, often kind of boring, with a temper he can't always control, but I read him as someone who genuinely loves his nephews and wants them to be happy, who is a good teacher when he's given a chance to be, and who is always trying to do the right thing. Personally, I tend to headcanon both LQR and LWJ as being on the autistic spectrum with a special interest in Lan rules, but you don't need to go with that. Feel free to go wild with backstory or sidestory here (for instance, in canon he is very good with the sword and trained LXC and LWJ; feel free to lean into that, or lean away from that! give him something else he's good at! give him additional character traits or hobbies or whatever that were only not mentioned because they weren't relevant to Wei Wuxian's journey!) ALSO: feel free to give him any relationship you want with Qingheng-jun and the whole getting married

However, please do not portray Lan Qiren's devotion to his sect rules as being wrong or something he has to overcome - he is following the instructions for being a good person left down by his ancestors, they are important to him, and the idea should be treated generally with respect; even if you want to have him disagreeing with one of the rules, it should be in a specific context, not "everything I grew up valuing is wrong actually". Similarly, his dislike of WWX should not be treated as "oh because he's conservative he's homophobic and that's the only reason he dislikes him", but based on his experiences with WWX and what WWX has done.

H/C: I would love, love, love something where LQR gets hurt and someone has to rescue him, but in a way that is centered around worrying about and caring for LQR. I've seen too many "WWX rescues LQR with his demonic cultivation thereby forcing LQR to admit he's not that bad" scenarios! or "LQR is hurt but the other person is so worried about him that the entire fic is now about the other person's trauma about people they love being hurt"! Do not want! Give me "wow guess I really do care about LQR" and "ouch LQR has been through so much I never realized I want to give him good things"!

Suggestions: - LQR gets captured and tortured after the burning of the Cloud Recesses or during the Sunshot Campaign, and either needs a rescue at the time OR never really had time to deal with the aftereffects of that and needs help after - something based on him coughing up blood and falling into a coma in canon when he heard WWX's bad flute music? is he super sensitive to sound? was he hurt by something in the past to cause it? something happens in post-canon that aggravates old issues he had? bad memories? - the hurt doesn't have to be something physical, could be emotional - something when he was younger and suddenly a parent to two kids and leading a sect? something about being unappreciated or undervalued? Darkfic (interpreted as "dead dove" style "I am reveling in bad things" fic, NOT angsty/sad/bad end): Similar to the above, just darker, I am fully here for "character is obsessed with LQR and is willing to do anything it takes to make him theirs" plots.

Suggestions: - CSSR and WCZ decide they've seen enough and it's time to kidnap LQR and teach him a new set of rules - NHS gets hold of the ability to hypnotize people, decides to fuck with LQR for fun, then ends up developing feelings - LXC, being old enough to see more of the dynamics between LQR and his father/his mother, decides he loves his uncle so much he's willing to destroy everything else to ensure his uncle's happiness (and maybe has a very twisted idea of what constitutes happiness) - WWX in a full Yiling Patriarch Dark Emperor AU who after marrying LWJ grows fond of the rigid rule-abiding uncle that LWJ brought along and decides to get to know him better? - Gangster AU (fantastical/not modern)? LQR as the only non-gangster Lan with LXC taking care of him? mob princess NHS deciding he wants his old ethics teacher? new mob boss WWX deciding the best way to deal with DA!LQR is to parent trap him together with his mob boss parents CSSR and WCZ?

DNW: no adultery/infidelity, no permanent limb/sense/memory loss, no unhappy ending for characters (it can be "bad end" as long as it is satisfying - i.e. original LQR would be horrified but current version LQR is OK with it), no LQR bashing, no character bashing generally, no generic modern AU (only specific AUs OK), no Lan sect rule bashing, no "Madame Lan did nothing wrong/did something justified and was unjustly imprisoned for it"

Request 2: MDZS Donghua

Characters/Pairings: Lan Huan & Lan Zhan (MDZS)

Prompt:

I love the Twin Jades - the way they love each other, the way they understand each other, the way LWJ is allowed to be a little spoiled in his way, the way LXC wants to make LWJ more friends. They have their shared trauma with their parents, but they each take away fascinatingly different meanings from it. They're so much fun! especially in the donghua, where we get to see them fight side by side in such a beautiful, flowing, coordinated fashion - love that, would love to see more of that.

Notes: Please write them having a good relationship with LQR (especially in donghua-verse, where we see him backing LWJ up against a sect elder and helping LWJ recruit people, talking with LXC as an equal when he returns from Qinghe in season 1, etc.) Also please do not write the Lan sect rules as something wrong or bad that they need to overcome, or as something they feel trapped by, but as a tradition that they've been raised in and respect, and voluntarily as adults choose to continue carrying on and passing down. For what it's worth, I headcanon LWJ (and LQR) as being on the autistic spectrum with Lan sect rules as a special interest, which must have been super interesting for LXC, but don't feel like you have to go with that.

Honestly, for this one, I'd really love a genre shift AU of some sort (but NOT modern/mundane AU). The donghua is so vividly designed, I'd love to imagine the aesthetics carrying over to another setting. Suggestions: - pirate AU - space opera AU - mob bosses AU (fantastical, not modern) - cyberpunk robots/sentient ship AU - historical non-magic setting AU - everyone is a dragon AU

As for plot, anything will do - slice of life, procedural/case solving, interpersonal drama, hurt/comfort, whatever! Just as long as LXC & LWJ continue to love each other and be good brothers to each other. No darkfic for this one, please.

DNW: no bad parent LQR, no Lan sect rule bashing, no "Madame Lan did nothing wrong/did something justified and was unjustly imprisoned for it", no adultery/infidelity, no permanent limb/sense/memory loss, no unhappy ending for characters, no character bashing generally, no generic modern AU, no permanent breach of relationship between LXC and LWJ (or with LQR)

Request 3: the Untamed

Character/Pairings Character: Lan Qiren (CQL), Lán Qǐrén & Niè Huáisāng (CQL), Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín/Lán Qǐrén (CQL)

Prompt:

I would love some Lan Qiren-centric hurt/comfort or darkfic, though with a happy (satisfying?) ending. Just about any pairing would be good! I typically prefer canon-divergence plots, but whole shift AUs other than mundane modern AUs are also OK (if they're cool).

General LQR notes: I like him with both good aspects and bad: he's rigid, hierarchical, and conservative, often kind of boring, with a temper he can't always control, but I read him as someone who genuinely loves his nephews and wants them to be happy, who is a good teacher when he's given a chance to be, and who is always trying to do the right thing. Personally, I tend to headcanon both LQR and LWJ as being on the autistic spectrum with a special interest in Lan rules, but you don't need to go with that. Feel free to go wild with backstory or sidestory here (for instance, in canon he is very good with the sword and trained LXC and LWJ; feel free to lean into that, or lean away from that! give him something else he's good at! give him additional character traits or hobbies or whatever that were only not mentioned because they weren't relevant to Wei Wuxian's journey!) ALSO: feel free to give him any relationship you want with Qingheng-jun and the whole getting married

However, please do not portray Lan Qiren's devotion to his sect rules as being wrong or something he has to overcome - he is following the instructions for being a good person left down by his ancestors, they are important to him, and the idea should be treated generally with respect; even if you want to have him disagreeing with one of the rules, it should be in a specific context, not "everything I grew up valuing is wrong actually". Similarly, his dislike of WWX should not be treated as "oh because he's conservative he's homophobic and that's the only reason he dislikes him", but based on his experiences with WWX and what WWX has done.

H/C: I would love, love, love something where LQR gets hurt and someone has to rescue him, but in a way that is centered around worrying about and caring for LQR. I've seen too many "WWX rescues LQR with his demonic cultivation thereby forcing LQR to admit he's not that bad" scenarios! or "LQR is hurt but the other person is so worried about him that the entire fic is now about the other person's trauma about people they love being hurt"! Do not want! Give me "wow guess I really do care about LQR" and "ouch LQR has been through so much I never realized I want to give him good things"!

Suggestions: - LQR gets captured and tortured after the burning of the Cloud Recesses or during the Sunshot Campaign, and either needs a rescue at the time OR never really had time to deal with the aftereffects of that and needs help after - something about coughing up blood following his fight with Wen Xu? - the hurt doesn't have to be something physical, could be emotional - something when he was younger and suddenly a parent to two kids and leading a sect? something about being unappreciated or undervalued? - OK with certain types of AU - mob AU where mob boss Jiang Cheng or Nie Huaisang look up their old teacher? emperor harem drama style conflict (preferably with LQR marrying in rather than being the emperor)? cyberpunk LQR and NHS team up to solve a mystery?

Darkfic (interpreted as "dead dove" style "I am reveling in bad things" fic, NOT angsty/sad/bad end): Similar to the above, just darker, I am fully here for "character is obsessed with LQR and is willing to do anything it takes to make him theirs" plots.

Suggestions: - NHS secretly worked with LQR to help get his whole plot against JGY moving. Now that it's over, he finds he's not willing to give up the one person who supported him in all that time. - JC had only one acknowledged older male role model/authority figure approve of him and like him better than WWX, ever, and that fact has just been there rotting away in his brain for years until he decides to take matters into his own hands - mob AU (fantastical/not modern)? emperor AU? reverse sugar daddy AU where someone is paying for LQR (in canon setting!)? - some other character of your choice/LQR, same idea

DNW: no adultery/infidelity, no permanent limb/sense/memory loss, no unhappy ending for characters (it can be "bad end" as long as it is satisfying - i.e. original LQR would be horrified by where he ended up but current version LQR is OK with it), no LQR bashing, no character bashing generally, no generic modern AU (only specific AUs OK), no Lan sect rule bashing, no "Madame Lan did nothing wrong/did something justified and was unjustly imprisoned for it"

#prompts for fandom exchanges #or if anyone else happens to want to write something for me XD #also you can tell I didn't become aware of this exchange in time for nominations #bc there's no NMJ

[aimmyarrowshigh]

Slice of Life by aimmyarrowshigh

“I’m not saying you need to decide right now. Or any time soon. But someday, you might want to walk away. And you’re luckier than most of the… superheroes… that I’ve ever known because you know what normal looks like. You know how to be normal. You can go back to normal if it’s what you want. And I know it’s not what you want right now, and I respect that, but I’m glad that it’s an option.”

Or, Clint and Kate challenge each other to prove they're the better New Yorker because they know the best food spots. Truths about superhero life and life in general come out along the way as they eat through the five boroughs.

Aaaages ago, I wrote this fic as a fill for the @fandom5k challenge and for @shnuffeluv, who got me as their anonymous writer and requested Clint & Kate fic! It was a super fun fill to write -- Clint & Kate! Kate/Yelena! Kate meeting Bucky! Bucky & Clint! -- and I'm so excited that I can finally share it openly. :) Thank you to @fandom5k for organizing such a great fest!

#fandom #fanfiction #my fic #slice of life #YOOO IT'S MY FIRST FIC LONGER THAN A DRABBLE THAT'S ACTUALLY COMPLETE IN... SINCE BEFORE COVID AT LEAST #i'm very pleased with how it turned out! it's cute and gen and about food as a metaphor for love! #and yelena and bucky are there! #please read it! if you want. #*g #*marvel #*hawkeye

[jaggedwolf]

Roundup

Obi-Wan Kenobi Pretty meh as a TV show but I turned my brain off for Star Wars as per usual and enjoyed watching very morose Obi-Wan hang out with precocious young Leia - this is the Leia iteration I've been most attached to. She was very good. Wish we'd gotten both the Anakin flashback and the obvious revelation of Reva's motivations earlier in the series. Probably only worth the watch if you are also an Obi-Wan fan. Heartstopper Exactly the slice-of-life teenage m/m show I expected it to be, was charmed by all these silly and/or sad kids and the various animations. Ms Marvel The cast for this show is so fucking good that it's unreal, especially Kamala Khan herself. If you liked the comics and/or teenage superhero shenanigans, would recommend! I also found it very easy to follow as a standalone series, I don't watch much Marvel stuff. ( Read more... ) Uncharted: Drake's Fortune Decent first game in that Naughty Dog series, going to play through the rest. I quite like Nate and Elena. The mutual disinterest in self-preservation makes them work for me, as does the nerdery. Have minimal thoughts on Sully so far. Was absolutely not prepared for the late-game twist in enemy combatants and played through the last quarter of the game yelling whenever I got scared, which was quite often. Recs I received this cute Kiyoko/Yachi (Haikyuu) fic in the fandom5k exchange. Great characterizations, covers both canon and post-canon shenanigans. This Ace Attorney Trilogy vid to Look What You Made Me Do works so frickin well. Did not expect the puns.

#IFTTT #jaggedwolf #dreamwidth #mine #apologies if this appears/disappears weirdly am debugging the ifttt setup

[herawell]

Nominated Badhaai Do, Ramayana, @mihrsuri's Tudors OT3 verse, and my Sina/Tui/Tui's best friend OT3 from Moana for Fandom5K, a fic exchange where participants write fics of at least 5000 words. Most likely will have <150 people participating and all these fandoms are Rare with a capital R (Badhaai Do's fandom tag hasn't even been wrangled yet), so nominating them is most likely a Hail Mary, but one never knows!

#badhaai do #ramayana #ot3: political power trio #moana #fandom5k #ally talks

[hawkland]

Instant Destiel Rec!

The Fandom5k collection is live and I just have to SCREAM because my gift is SO FUCKING PERFECT OMG y’all need to go read it. 

Road Trip (9.k)

If you love:

Sam and Cas being chaos twins

Dean jealous because he thinks Sam & Cas have a thing going on

Hilarious original characters horny for Cas and making Dean extremely flustered

Dialog so spot-on this could have been an actual episode of SPN

Road trips to exciting places

Happy endings of (of course) the Dean/Cas variety

Then GO READ IMMEDIATELY.

I’ll wait here for you to report back.

#destiel rec #destiel fic recs #my recs #fandom5k #author bless you this was amazing #i do not feel worthy #deancas recs #chad the vampire needs to become an ongoing thing

[azems-familiar]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, past Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Bail Organa, CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex Characters: CC-2224 | Cody, Obi-Wan Kenobi, CT-7567 | Rex, Bail Organa, Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader, brief appearances by:, Leia Organa, Luke Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, mildly, Post-Order 66, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Force Bond (Star Wars), ish?, Dreamsharing, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, The Force Ships It, Established Relationship, Pining, yes look even my established relationships have pining in them, any fic can be mutual pining if you try hard enough, Community: fandom5k, Star Wars: The Clone Wars Season 7 Spoilers, ish, season 7 compliant if you squint Summary:

“... where are we?” ‘24 doesn’t dare speak above a quiet murmur, afraid that the acknowledgement of Kenobi’s presence might disturb the fragile balance he’s found between good soldiers follow orders and the thread of a whisper saying mine, mine, beloved.

“I believe this is a dream,” Kenobi says, thoughtful, musing, the way he always does when faced with something he doesn’t understand, “at least, in a manner of speaking.” 

In a manner of speaking. “You mean,” ‘24 says, wry, “it’s Force shit you don’t understand?”

Traitor, the chip hisses. ‘24 ignores it, as best as he can. It won’t last. He can feel the eye closing already.

[or: post-Order 66, Cody and Obi-Wan find each other again, with the help of the Force]

#codywan #my fic #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #obi wan x cody #fandom5k #yes this is the fic i teased over a month ago aren't you excited

[trisshawkeye]

Edmund asks to stay.

---

Another fic written for Fandom5K. I was so intrigued by the request for Caspian/Edmund & Ramandu's Daughter that I'm very glad I had the time to put this together. I had a great time revisiting Narnia for this one, and playing around with the dreamlike weirdness at the end of Voyage of the Dawn Treader!

#edmund pevensie #prince caspian #caspian #narnia #fandom5k #my fic

[evilsapphyre]

I got 2 gift fics from Fandom5k this year. Both were excellent for the fandoms they represented.

The first is a Mass Effect fic featuring Kaidan Alenko and Miranda Lawson, post Reaper War/ME3. It’s both engaging from the post war world building, and the sexy NSFW plot elements.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31768570

My other gift was a “fix-it” fic for Game of Thrones for my favorite pairing of Jaime and Brienne. The author made a lovely fic that follows Jaime’s POV over several scenes that really are lovely and touching. I very much loved it.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31718380

#fandom5k #mass effect #game of thrones #kaidan alenko #miranda lawson #kaidan alenko/miranda lawson #jaime lannister #brienne of tarth #jaime x brienne

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Thursday, April 11

Buffy: (shrugs) I'll be fine. Spike: Buffy. You're not happy here. Buffy: Please don't make this harder. Spike: You don't belong here. You're something... You're better than this.

~~Doublemeat Palace~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Elope (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by veronyxk84

Followup Tests (Angel/Maggie Walsh, E) by MadeInGold

A Strange Sort of Afterlife (Multiple Crossings, T) by Ditsyjo and Wolfcubx2

Daisies (Buffy/Spike, T) by desicat

I Know I Should Figure This Out on my Own (but if you come back, could you take me home?) (Cordelia, Wesley, T) by purple_mechanicalpencils

Cooking Together (Crossover with Dawson's Creek, G) by Julikobold

Rock Concert Tickets (Buffy/Spike, G) by Julikobold

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Object of Affection, Chapter 1 (Xander/Spike, E) by felixsfishnets

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The Stars to Hold Our Destiny, Chapter 10 (Crossover with Star Trek, FR15) by Hermionetobe

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It's Easy Time, Until It's Not, Chapter 24 (Buffy/Spike, AO) by hulettwyo

Coming Through, Chapter 55 (Buffy/Spike, AO) by hulettwyo

Service Unit, Chapter 10 (Buffy/Spike, AO) by hulettwyo

Hope is the thing with feathers, Chapter 10 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by will_

What The Drabble? Vol. 2, Chapter 10 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by veronyxk84

In Your Dreams, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Geliot99

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[Reviews & Recaps]

Joan the Vampire Slayer (and Randy) | 6x8 "Tabula Rasa" | The Normies Group Reaction! by The Normies

"The I in Team" (4x13) | *Buffy the Vampire Slayer* Reaction by cass reacts

Older and Far Away: Buffy 6x14 Reaction by Dakara

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER - SEASON 6 EP 22 GRAVE (2002) REACTION VIDEO AND REVIEW FIRST TIME WATCHING by Reel Reviews With Jen!

Buffy The Vampire Slayer (1992) - Film Review by VIDEO ZONE

The Re-Watcher's Council | "Reptile Boy" Buffy the Vampire Slayer S02E05 Spoiler Review by LGRN - Entertainment

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[Recs & In Search Of]

spuffy fanfics where drusilla plays a major role in the story recced by mcgnagallsarmy

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Conflicted feelings on the show so far... by multiple authors

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[beatrice-otter]

Fic: Starship Mine

Title: Starship Mine Author: beatrice_otter  Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series Characters: Nyota Uhura & Christine Chapel & Number One Written for: DesertVixen in fandom5k 2022 Rating: Gen Length: 6868 words Betaed By: BardicRaven At AO3. On tumblr. On Pillowfort. Podfic at Dropbox. At Archive.org.

"Last shuttle to Arkaria will be departing in one half-hour," the computer's voice said over the intercom. "If you will be delayed, please notify the shuttle immediately."

Nyota swore under her breath and broke into a trot. She might be able to finish up and get there in time, but it would be pushing it. Baryon sweeps, while periodically necessary to purge excess warp radiation, were fatal to unshielded living tissue. Everyone had to check out on leaving the ship so they could be sure everyone was off the ship before the sweep started. The shuttle pilot knew that she and Christine and a few others were still aboard handling the last of Medical's packing, but she didn't want to delay things.

The Enterprise, being the Starfleet flagship, was in high demand, and scheduling the time for necessary maintenance was always a challenge. They'd been badly overdue to purge the radiation which built up on the hull over long periods in warp drive. So when Enterprise had the time and was close to the Remmler Array, the premier baryon-maintenance facility on this side of the Federation, they were shoe-horned into an already full schedule. Nyota had spent the past several days fielding complaints from other ships about the interruptions to their schedules.

She turned a corner and saw a Vulcan in Remmler Array fatigues poking at a computer panel on the wall. He glanced at her. "Lieutenant, you should be on your way to the shuttle bay." He eyed her legs with appreciation before turning back to his panel.

"I know," she said. "What's the problem? We've been working with your crew for the last two days to get everything ready for the sweep, everything should be taken care of." Everything except the medical samples, that was. She really should offer to help him, as one of Enterprise's senior officers, but she didn't have time to do that and get Christine's samples.

"That is unnecessary," the Vulcan said, with one last glance at her legs. "I'll be done shortly."

"Right," Nyota said, and took off at a jog. She'd never been ogled by a Vulcan before, but she supposed there was a first time for everything.

In Bio Lab 2, she loaded equipment and samples on the cart as quickly as she could without messing up the connections to the portable containment unit's power supply.

She finished, double-checked her work, and maneuvered the cart out into the corridor just as a familiar figure in civilian garb turned the corner. "Christine! I thought—oh." It was a different familiar figure than the one she'd first thought. "Sorry, Captain, you look a lot like Nurse Chapel. Can I ask why you're here, as we make our way down to the shuttle bay?"

"They just finished with the Da-Teplan," Captain Una Chin-Riley said, joining her. "I wanted to say hello to the old girl before we left, but some minor personnel emergencies came up and I got delayed until the last minute."

"Nothing too bad, I hope," Nyota said.

"No, just a series of things coming to a head," the captain said. She eyed the cart Nyota was pushing. "I would have thought samples would be removed early in the evacuation, and handled by science officers."

Nyota grimaced. "It wasn't supposed to need to be evacuated; these samples aren't terribly reactive to the sweep, and Bio Lab 2's containment field should have been enough to protect them. But then the field emitters started failing two hours ago, and by then three quarters of the crew had already left."

"And they probably didn't want to confuse things by bringing people back up when the ones still aboard could handle it," Captain Chin-Riley said with a nod.

"Nurse Chapel was going to do it, but then there was a problem with the sickbay shutdown, and she knew I was still on board, so she asked me."

"Nurse Chapel—do I know her?" The captain cocked her head with a frown.

"No," Nyota said. "She joined the Enterprise about six months after you left for your own command. She looks enough like you to be your blonde sister."

"Well, I don't have any relatives in Starfleet," Captain Chin-Riley said. It was odd to think of her that way; most of the time they'd served together on Enterprise, she'd gone by 'Number One.' But she wasn't a first officer any longer, and so the pun on her first name (Una) no longer applied.

A Vulcan woman in the Array's jumpsuit came into view around the corridor's curve. She frowned at them. "You should be on the shuttle already." Her jumpsuit didn't quite fit, too long at the wrists and too short at the ankles, with a slight pucker over the breasts where it was just slightly too small. Vulcans were usually so precise about their tailoring.

"I know, we're sorry for the delay," Nyota said. "There was a problem with the containment field in Bio Lab 2, we had to do some last-minute changes to plan. You should have gotten the notification?"

"I did," the Vulcan said, with more than a hint of disdain. "You're still late."

"We're on our way now," Captain Chin-Riley said.

As they passed the Vulcan, headed toward the cargo turbolift at the end of the corridor, Nyota shook her head. You didn't see many Vulcans out this side of the Federation, and there hadn't been any on the team working with the Enterprise crew to lock down the ship. And now she'd seen two in only half an hour, both of them … not what she'd expect. Vulcans weren't identical any more than any species was, but still…. She glanced back, but the Vulcan had passed out of sight. "Were there any Vulcans on the team that handled the Da-Teplan?"

"No," the captain said. "But they do have more than one team."

"There weren't any on the team that was working on the Enterprise, either," Nyota said. There'd have been gossip about it, especially if one of them had been ogling people, and as head of Communications Nyota heard all the gossip. "I met another Vulcan just before I got to Bio Lab 2."

"Huh." Captain Chin-Riley stopped at the next computer terminal on the wall and punched in her access code as a Starfleet captain. "Computer, how many Vulcans work at the Remmler Array?"

"No Vulcans are currently employed by the Remmler Array," The computer intoned.

"Are there any Vulcans employed by Starfleet stationed on Arkaria?" the captain continued.

"No Vulcans employed by Starfleet are stationed on Arkaria."

"We'd better call this in," Nyota said. "It could be nothing, but—"

"I've read the report on Enterprise's encounter with the Romulan ship in the Neutral Zone," the captain said grimly. "They could be Romulans." She punched in a code to connect her to the ship's communications system.

The terminal squealed and went dark. Nyota glanced down the corridor and saw that all the terminals in view had done the same. That was not a planned shutdown. It could be some freak accident … or it could be something more sinister.

"Do you have a communicator on you?" Nyota asked.

"No," the captain said.

"Let's get out of here," she said, grabbing Captain Chin-Riley's arm. "See if we can find a terminal that's working." It was probably nothing, and a quick call to the Array would clear up the confusion. Still. Better safe than sorry.

They abandoned the cart and sprinted down the corridor, ducking through a lab that had two entrances to come out in another corridor.

The computer terminals in this corridor were out, too, which shouldn't have happened if the shutdown they'd witnessed was an accident. The systems were shielded so that surges in one terminal couldn't spread to the whole network. "They're not supposed to be able to shut down the communications system or the computer until all personnel are confirmed off the ship and the last shuttle has left," Nyota said. "There are safety interlocks."

"A targeted EM pulse at the right place would do it," the captain said grimly. "She might have heard us talking, and signaled a compatriot to trigger it."

"If you aimed it right and kept it small enough, it wouldn't even destroy the chips, just kick the breakers over," Nyota said. "But you'd have to have control of both the bridge and the main computer core."

The captain stopped at an access panel for the Jeffries tubes, and popped it off. "If there really are hostiles aboard, let's not make ourselves easy to find."

Nyota slid in and headed for the nearest junction at the fastest crawl she could manage. Captain Chin-Riley followed, pausing only long enough to close the panel back up.

"I really hope we're just being paranoid," Nyota said once they'd reached the junction.

"Did you do a database synchronization when you arrived at Arkaria?"

"Of course, Captain," Nyota said. It was standard procedure whenever they stopped at a Federation planet or station.

"So either the Remmler Array's staff is completely incompetent at keeping their personnel lists up to date—which Starfleet Security will be very interested to know, given all the classified information the Array's employees have access to—or the two 'Vulcans' you saw aren't actually Remmler personnel. But they're impersonating them on a starship that's been evacuated and shut down, which makes it a perfect target for anything from espionage to sabotage. At best, they're home-grown Federation criminals wearing fake ears. At worst … they're Romulans." The captain sighed. "Question is, what now? They probably have the shuttle secured already, and even if not they'll be expecting us to head to it."

"The transporters are already shut down," Nyota said. The Heisenberg compensators reacted weirdly with baryon beams; it took special precautions to shut down the transporters in such a way that they'd take no damage during the sweep, even with diverters to protect them.

"Can you jury-rig a communicator that can reach one of the other ships?"

Nyota thought for a second. The communicators had the reach, but were designed to be routed through the ship's communication system. In port like this, any ship that picked up the signal would likely ignore it on the assumption that if it were meant for them, the hail would be coming through the ship's communications array. She'd have to spoof the metadata so that it looked like it was. "Yes, but I'll need a functional computer—or at least a tricorder—to do it."

"And everything's been shut down."

"Medical tricorders are probably the easiest to boot up quickly, they're designed for it in case of emergency," Nyota said. "And we should stop by Sickbay and let Christine know what's happening, anyway, and I doubt they're expecting us to head there."

"Do you know who else might still be aboard?" the captain asked. "And where they might be? If we have to retake the ship, it'll be better to have more people."

"I'm sorry, Captain Chin-Riley, I didn't look at the evacuation roster closely enough to know," Nyota said.

"You can call me Una," the captain said. "Tell me if you remember anybody still on board. Meanwhile, Sickbay it is."

As they crawled and climbed through the bowels of the ship, Nyota had plenty of time to contemplate. If this were all a false alarm, she'd feel really stupid. It was possible the Array's crew were bad at database maintenance; it was also possible that the computer failure at that point was just an error, something that had gone wrong as they rigged everything for shutdown and put field diverters in the computer core to protect it. If that were true, in a few hours she'd be in a bar on Arkaria while her crewmates laughed at her paranoia.

But she'd rather take the chance of a few hours of good-natured ribbing, than assume everything was fine and let Romulans get the ship.

When they reached the access panel that was below one of the bio-beds in sickbay, Nyota popped the fastenings as quietly as she could and swung the panel out just enough to take a cautious glance around.

Which gave her the warning she needed to duck back in time to avoid the phaser blast that neatly hit the opening. "Christine, it's me, Nyota, don't shoot!" she yelled.

There was a pause from inside sickbay. "Show yourself," Christine said warily.

Nyota pushed the panel open further. "I see you've figured out we're in trouble," she said, sticking her head out. "It really is me. And a friend."

"All right, you can come out," Christine said, sagging with relief. "I'm glad you're here. Starfleet's 'Basic Training for Nurses' didn't cover what to do when there's trouble and you're alone on the ship." She had the beginnings of an impressive shiner, but her eyes were clear.

Nyota climbed out of the tube, straightening her skirt as she rose. A Romulan in the Remmler Array jumpsuit—not one of the ones she'd already seen—was unconscious on the biobed next to her, the restraints for hostile patients firmly detaining them. "Nice work," she said, nodding at the Romulan.

Una clambered out of the tube behind her. "Christine, this is Captain Una Chin-Riley of the Da-Teplan. She used to be first officer of the Enterprise under Captain Pike."

Christine looked at Una and did a double-take.

Una looked Christine up and down. "I see what you mean," she told Nyota. "Forget sisters, we could be twins."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Christine said. "But if you don't mind my asking, how come you're here? And what the hell is going on?"

"I was on a quick nostalgia tour when I ran into Nyota," Una said.

"I was curious about a couple of Vulcans I'd seen, so I asked the computer about them," Nyota said. "There are no Vulcans working on the Array. That's when the computer crashed. We thought they might be Romulans, so we headed here to collect you and some supplies we needed."

"Romulans?" Christine said. "Well, I suppose that makes sense. I assumed she was a Vulcan." She crossed her arms, hugging herself tightly.

"What happened here?" Una asked.

"I was in the back office hooking up the diverter when the computer went down. Which it's not supposed to do before the last shuttle is away and everyone is confirmed off the ship," she said, sounding annoyed. But Nyota could hear the edge of fear underneath. "And then I heard someone rummaging around out in sickbay, and it sounded like they were trying to force the secure meds storage cabinet open. Since there probably weren't any security officers left on the ship, or anyone to call for help, I grabbed a hypospray with a sedative that works on most species on my way to check. It was her." She nodded to the Romulan on the biobed. "I asked what she was doing, and she didn't have a good answer. I told her to go away or I'd report her, and she hit me. So I jabbed her in the leg with the hypospray."

"Good thinking," Una said. "You kept a very cool head and reacted quickly and appropriately."

"Thank you," Christine said. "What do we do now? Head to the shuttle bay? What if there are more of them?"

"There are at least two others," Nyota said.

"Probably more than that, if they have a plan for any major sabotage before the Array powers up and starts the sweep," Una said. "And there's a good chance they've either secured the shuttle already, or are waiting for us there. With the transporters down, they're probably counting on the shuttle for their own exit."

"That or they have some kind of small craft hidden somewhere nearby, to come beam them out when they're done," Nyota said.

"That would blow their cover, if they were hoping to slip away without being noticed," Una said.

"This is all fascinating," Christine said, "but what do we do now? Can you fix the communications system? How do we get off before the sweep starts?"

"I can't fix it from here, but hopefully I won't need to. I'm going to need one of your medical tricorders to modify a communicator to hail the array," Nyota said. "Then we can report in and call for help."

"They can't start the sweep until everyone is confirmed off the ship, so even if you can't make it work, they'll send someone to investigate when we don't make it to the shuttle," Una said.

Nyota was about halfway done writing the software patch for the communicator when a jolt knocked her out of her focused concentration. "Was that—"

"The impulse engines coming online," Una confirmed grimly.

A low hum started up, one Nyota was so used to she almost didn't hear consciously any longer.

"And that's the warp drive," Christine said.

"This isn't sabotage, it's a hijacking," Una said.

"And every ship in the area is either in the process of shutting down or starting back up," Nyota said. "Nobody will be able to give chase for a day or two, at least."

"Da-Tapan had her full crew complement on board, and we were ahead of schedule in rebooting everything," Una said. "She'll be able to head out in an hour, maybe two, I'd guess, but that'll still give the Romulans too much of a head start. Once they get out of sensor range, they can change course and there would be too many possible destinations for Starfleet to cover. We'll have to retake the ship ourselves, or at least stop it from going anywhere."

"I can patch you up if you get hurt, but most of my combat training was in how to stay out of the line of fire," Christine said.

"How well do you shoot?" Una asked.

Christine shrugged. "Well enough to qualify on both hand phasers and rifles, but not much more than that."

"If nothing else, you can lay down covering fire," Una said. "Don't suppose you know who else might still be aboard?"

"Sorry," Christine said.

"Do we have time to hit the armory?" Nyota said. "I'd feel better going up against Romulans with heavier firepower than the phasers in the emergency kit in Sickbay."

Una shook her head. "Too much chance it's guarded or boobytrapped," she said. "And if we tip them off that we're going on the offensive, then everything else will be ten times harder. Best thing to do would be to take engineering, if we can. That way, even if we can't control the ship ourselves, we can at least prevent them from taking it anywhere."

"You can shut down just about anything from Engineering," Nyota said. "Including the ship's anti-intruder defenses, if they try to use them against us. And if they've brought the computer up even in a limited way, they have to have full access at the engineering terminals."

"Has Scotty made any major modifications to the layout or defenses of Engineering?"

"As a matter of fact, he has." Nyota smiled. "A few months ago, an officer in an altered state barricaded himself in Engineering and they had to cut through the doors to get in. Scotty made a back door through the security locks for the department heads so that if it happens again, we can get through more easily."

"And you're head of Communications, so you have access to that back door," Una said. "And because it's not standard, the Romulans will have no way of knowing about it. Alright, here's what we're going to do."

Nyota kept one eye on the tricorder's timer function, and one eye on the life signs map of Engineering. This wasn't exactly what the medical tricorder's scan function was designed for, but it worked nonetheless. It was a pity the range was so limited.

There were five people in Engineering, with biosigns that indicated they were probably Romulan. Two humans against five Romulans were not good odds, even with surprise on their side.

She wondered how Christine was doing. It was unnerving to have their least-experienced person off by themselves, but with only three people, that's how it worked out. The heavy fighting would be in Engineering itself, once they breached it; that's where she and Una had to be. The distraction that might give them a chance to get into Engineering while the Romulans were focused elsewhere didn't have to last long, and Christine could disappear back into the Jeffries tubes quickly from the firing spot they'd picked out for her, once she'd gotten the Romulans' attention.

Nyota shook her head. Christine was a competent officer and could take care of herself. Nyota needed to keep her mind on her own part of the plan.

The countdown reached zero, and … nothing happened. No sounds of phaser fire, no movement of Romulans on the tricorder's screen.

Nyota bit her lip. It was probably nothing, Christine was probably still getting into position. They had communicators which Nyota had modified to work independently of the ship's communication system, but they didn't know how well the Romulans could use the ship's internal scanners. If they knew how to run the communications board, any communicator use would show right up whether or not the calls were routed through the computer.

A loud boom reverberated through the space. That would be the phaser they'd rigged to overload. Christine should have placed it far enough away that it wouldn't damage Engineering's blast doors, but close enough to look like that was only a fluke.

A high-pitched whine started up, and a slightly lower pitch responded—phasers and disruptors, trading shots.

Nyota gripped her phaser in one hand, but kept her eyes glued to the tricorder screen.

Movement. Three of the five Romulans in Engineering were moving towards the main doors. Nyota tapped Una's leg.

Una swung silently out of the Jeffries tube into the empty maintenance shop. Nyota set down the tricorder and followed.

Una rounded the corner into Main Engineering with a flying leap, firing as she went. Nyota poked her head around and laid down covering fire. In the confusion, she wasn't sure whose shots hit, but two Romulans went down.

Una had made it to cover and was laying down heavy fire. Nyota kept shooting, ducking back into cover randomly to make herself a less easy target to hit. The Romulans were shooting back, but sparingly; that was the benefits of phasers over disruptors. With phasers set to stun, it didn't matter if their shots went wild. But if a disruptor blast hit something critical, it could knock it out completely. And the Romulans needed Engineering intact if they were going to steal the ship.

She'd lost track of a Romulan, she realized—two were down, two were firing back, where was the fifth—

A hand grabbed her wrist when she popped around the corner for some more shots. Nyota launched herself forward, trying to catch her attacker off balance. It didn't quite work, but it did put her in position to sweep his legs out from under him. They went down in a tumble, and Nyota dug an elbow into his side just below the ribcage. It was a critical spot in Vulcans, and apparently in Romulans, too, because he grunted and jack-knifed around to protect it.

A scream distracted her, almost fatally, because she didn't see him bring out a knife. She just saw the hand coming at her and struck out at it, getting sliced for her trouble. With the adrenaline, she couldn't even feel it.

She had to end this. In a contest of endurance, any Vulcanoid could beat her easily. She dropped the phaser and twisted her arm to break the Romulan's grip on her wrist, then eeled around to get a knee in striking distance of his face. She drove a knee up with all her might, breaking his nose.

Nyota rolled away, grabbed the phaser, and shot him. She dove back into cover, but … there were no more shots. She glanced around. The Romulans were all down.

Una was leaning against a wall pressing a hand to her side. There was a lot of blood. If she'd been hit dead-on by a disruptor beam, she'd be dead, but maybe she'd only been grazed. "I think Engineering is secure," she said hoarsely.

Nyota nodded, and reached for her communicator. "Christine, we did it, but we need you immediately." She headed to the main doors and opened them, phaser at the ready.

Christine darted through the door as soon as it was open, medkit in one hand and phaser in the other. "You're hurt!" she said.

"Una's worse," Nyota said, and closed the door, sealing it back up with her command codes.

Christine crossed the room to Una and started pulling equipment out of her kit. Nyota ignored them and took a seat at one of the consoles, putting pressure on the wound to staunch the bleeding. Now she could feel it, and she gritted her teeth at the pain. She kept her phaser in easy reach and one eye cocked towards the door.

She glanced down at the panel. This was not the one she needed. Neither was the next one. But the third gave her access to the warp drive's emergency shut-down, and she sighed in relief as they dropped back into normal space. Nyota glanced over at Christine and Una, but the best way to help them was to focus on her job.

What next? She forced herself to think through the adrenaline that was still flooding through her. Automated intruder defenses. That was on another panel, the first one she'd started at. A few minutes of poking showed that while some of the computer's functions were up and running, most weren't … and that included the automated intruder defenses. There were manual ones, but you had to be in either Main Engineering or the environmental plant to use them, and Engineering could shut them down completely. Nyota did so.

It was a sure bet the Romulans knew they were here now, so there was no point in avoiding communications. Nyota pulled out the communicator strapped to her hip, and sent a general hail throughout the ship. No answer, which wasn't surprising; most people didn't carry communicators with them when the were aboard, because the consoles were everywhere and almost as convenient. But it did mean they couldn't link up with whoever else was still aboard.

Then she started poking at the main computer. It was a mess. Whatever the Romulans had done to it was quick, dirty, and nasty. The good news was that the Romulans weren't going to be able to do much with it. The bad news was, neither was she. Not without a full team of computer techs to manually repair the linkages.

She couldn't use internal scanners; she needed the tricorder she'd left in the Jeffries tube to tell whether there were any Romulans close by. But she couldn't leave the main doors unguarded.

Nyota swore as she realized the hatch they'd used to access the maintenance shop wasn't sealed. They'd sealed the Jeffries Tubes behind them as they went; it would take a lot of time (or firepower) to break through that way, and the Romulans wouldn't want to risk damaging the equipment in the tubes. But it was still a vulnerability they couldn't afford.

"Christine?" she called. "Can you watch the doors for a bit while I go seal the hatches?"

"I'm a bit busy," Christine said. "Disruptor damage proliferates, and I've only just got it stopped." She was furiously alternating between implements as she worked on her patient.

"I can," Una said grimly. She was white with pain and blood loss, but she was still sitting upright against the wall, with a phaser clutched in her hand.

"Okay," Nyota said. She wasn't convinced Una could do it, but the hatches had to be sealed. She grabbed her phaser and stood, wincing as her wounded arm throbbed at the motion. She went back to the maintenance room and into the Jeffries tube. Fortunately, the tricorder was near the hatch and she didn't have to crawl to get it. She slung it over her shoulder and closed the hatch, sealing it with her command codes. Then she sealed the maintenance room for good measure, and all the other doors that she could. No point taking chances.

"We're secure back there," she said as she emerged into main engineering. "And they can't use the intruder defenses against us, and the computer is still mostly down."

"Can we use the intruder defenses against them?" Una asked.

Nyota shrugged. "Maybe. I'm not as familiar with the manual systems, it might take me a bit to figure it out. I thought my next priority should be communications."

"Do that," Una said. "Distress signal first, then intraship communications to see if we can find out if there are any other crew or actual Remmler teams aboard."

"What about that wound in your arm?" Christine said. "I'll take care of it, now that Captain Chin-Riley is stable."

A few minutes with the protoplaser had Nyota's arm good as new, and she headed back to the control panels to see what could be done for communications from here. She wasn't optimistic; most communications required the computer to function.

"Do we have any way of finding out how many Romulans might be aboard?" Christine asked. She was still working on Una, but slower, taking time to be thorough now that the first danger was past.

"No, but there can't be that many," Una said. "How would they have snuck them all into Arkaria and into the base? It's a big and busy place, with ships coming and going all the time, but going from 'no Vulcans' to 'lots of Vulcans' overnight would be noticed."

"I'd like to know how come we don't have better security precautions, now that we know Romulans can pass for Vulcans," Nyota said.

"Our scanners can't differentiate between Vulcans and Romulans," Christine said. "They're too alike. So you couldn't automate it or just handle it with scanners."

"And we can't discriminate against every Vulcan and Vulcanoid in the Federation because they happen to look like our old enemies," Una said.

Nyota sighed. "Things would be so much simpler if there was a physical difference we could scan for."

"How's the communications coming along?" Una asked. Christine had finished working on her, and was seated next to her against the wall, with her tricorder in one hand and a phaser in the other, medkit open and ready for use between them.

"Communications aren't looking good," Nyota said. She glanced at the tricorder to make sure there were no other people in range. Christine would be focused on Una's vital signs, not the possibility of attack. "Engineering doesn't have direct access to the physical equipment, it all goes through the computer banks. Which I can't fix from here. The closest direct physical access to any of the communications systems is the deflector dish on Deck 19—"

"—but that's right next to the computer array, and they almost certainly have someone stationed there," Una said with a grimace. "We know they've been there, they had to be to shut down the main computer."

"If we do any moving, it should be to sickbay," Christine said. "Captain, you need more care than I can give you here. I can keep you alive, but even moving you to Sickbay would be chancy without the lifts which we can't use because we'd be sitting ducks."

"Engineering is more defensible than sickbay," Una said, "and even if we can't get any systems up and running, we need to make sure the Romulans can't use them either. It's a waiting game; by now, the Da-Taplan has to be on its way. We couldn't have gotten too far out of sensor range in the time we were at warp; they should find us before too long."

"Hopefully, the Romulans won't manage to cut the doors down between now and then," Christine said. She brightened. "But they can't possibly do it any quicker than Scotty did over Psi 2000, so we've got a while."

"Is there anything else we can do while we wait?" Una asked. She shifted and grimaced. It was a bit worrying how pale she was. "Turn on the anti-intruder defenses?"

"I wouldn't recommend that," Christine said. "Without the computer, all we can do is flood the entire ship with anesthetizing gas … and it wasn't designed to take out Vulcans. Or Romulans. We'd knock out any crew still aboard for sure, but I couldn't guarantee it would do much to our hijackers."

"Let's not do that then," Una said.

There was a silence as they all tried to think of something. Nothing came to mind that would be worth the risk. If they were further from rescue, or had a crew of trained and uninjured people, there were many things they could do. But as it stood, the smart thing was to wait for rescue.

Una made a low noise. Christine scanned her again, but took no action.

"Not going to lie, Nurse, even with the painkiller you gave me, this wound hurts like a bitch."

"You should be lying down in a biobed," Christine said. "What do you expect? Disruptors are nasty weapons."

"A distraction to take my mind off the pain would be really helpful," Una said. "Any good stories about what's happened around here since I've been gone?"

Nyota checked the tricorder again while she thought. Nobody but the three of them was in range of scanners. "Well, the mission to Psi 2000 had some really funny bits," if you ignored the fact that they'd almost died. But that was true of a lot of Starfleet stories.

Nyota told the funny and exciting parts of that particular incident. By the time she was finished telling how Spock and Scotty had managed a cold-restart of the engines with a controlled matter-antimatter implosion in under half an hour, there were Romulans outside the doors.

This was the hard part, not the actual fighting, Nyota reflected as she wiped a sweaty palm on her skirt.

The Romulans had been using some sort of heavy equipment on the main doors to Engineering for the last ten minutes. They weren't through, yet, and wouldn't be for some time; whatever they were using wasn't up to the task.

So they sat behind cover, phasers at the ready, waiting for the Romulans to break in and hoping rescue would get here first.

There were only two Romulans, and three of them. But Una was the best shot they had and she was seriously wounded.

"You know, I almost wish we could open the doors on them and shoot them, instead of waiting for them to get through on their own," Christine said.

"Bad idea," Una said.

"I know," Christine said. "I just don't like waiting without something to do."

"Who does?" Nyota said.

"Da-Taplan to Captain Chin-Riley." It was a general hail; the Da-Taplan couldn't know which communicator was with which person.

Christine gasped. Nyota closed her eyes and sagged against the wall in relief.

Una moved a hand and winced. "Nurse, can you get my communicator out?"

Christine pulled out her own communicator and flipped it open, holding it up to Una's mouth.

"Chin-Riley here," she said. "It's good to hear your voice. Myself, Lieutenant Uhura, and Nurse Chapel are barricaded in Main Engineering, with two Romulans outside trying to get through the doors."

"We'll beam in a security team right away, sir. Do you have any other tactical information?"

"Main computer's down, and there should be a Romulan restrained and sedated in Sickbay," Una said. "Other than that, I don't know."

"Captain Chin-Riley has a disruptor wound to her torso," Christine said. "She's stable, but she'll need to go directly to sickbay."

"Acknowledged," Da-Taplan's communications officer said. "We'll have a medical team standing by in the transporter room."

A high whine and a bright light filled Engineering. Six people materialized in the center of the room, phasers drawn; Captain Kirk and Spock and Doctor McCoy were in front, with three people in Support Services red who must have been from Da-Taplan's crew.

Nyota stood to greet them.

"Thank you for saving my ship, Captain, Lieutenant, Nurse," Captain Kirk said with a smile.

"What took you so long?" Una asked, lips twisting in what was probably supposed to be a smirk. She grimaced as Doctor McCoy knelt down beside her, tricorder out, and began trading medical details with Christine in a low voice.

Kirk shrugged. "We got here as quickly as we could. You have a fine engineering staff, my compliments." He gestured to two of the people he'd brought, and they went to secure the doors. One of the newcomers had already headed toward a console and sat down to work.

"It is agreeable to see you all alive and in possession of the ship, Captain Chin-Riley, Nurse Chapel," Spock nodded to Nyota, "Lieutenant Uhura."

"It's very agreeable to see you too, Mister Spock," Nyota said, and smiled at him.

"Jim, we should get the captain back to her ship," Bones said. "Nurse Chapel did an amazing job, but Captain Chin-Riley should be flat on her back recovering for a while. And Chapel and Uhura should be checked out, too."

In deference to Una's injuries, they held the debriefing in Da-Taplan's sickbay. By the time Enterprise was secure and the last of the Romulans in custody, both Doctor McCoy and the Da-Taplan's chief medical officer agreed she was well enough to sit up in bed, though they weren't going to discharge her just yet. Captain Kirk, Spock, Doctor McCoy, Christine, and Nyota gathered around Una's bed, with a yeoman to take notes.

It didn't take that long to detail their experiences and actions between realizing something was wrong and the Da-Tapan's arrival. When everything was recorded, the yeoman was dismissed.

"What I want to know is, how the hell did they get through the Remmler Array's security in the first place?" Una asked.

Captain Kirk winced. "They came in as crew on a small Vulcan ship in need of a Baryon scan," he said. "Once their ship was evacuated and locked down and in the holding pattern, they simply walked into the base's laundry facilities and grabbed Remmler Array utility suits. And from there, they simply walked wherever they wanted. Nobody asked them to show ID or log in to the systems or subjected them to any security measures, because they looked like they belonged."

"Even though there aren't any Vulcans stationed on Arkaria?" Nyota asked.

Kirk shrugged. "Everyone thought they were new personnel."

"It sounds like they don't need new security procedures, they just need to follow the ones they have," Una said sourly.

"Indeed," Spock said. "Quite a lot of people are going to have unpleasant questions to answer, and there will be mandatory security refresher courses for some time to come."

"But how could they have known the Enterprise was going to be there?" Christine said. "We didn't know the Enterprise was going to go in for a baryon sweep until two weeks ago, and that's not enough time for them to have gotten a crew and a ship in place."

"They were looking for targets of opportunity," Kirk said. "Starfleet vessels come here for maintenance pretty regularly. They were planning on absconding with whatever ship happened to be evacuated at the right time for them to slip on board, and got lucky."

"Well, we were lucky too, that Captain Chin-Riley and Uhura and Christine were still aboard," Bones said. "The three of them took on a crack team of ten Romulan hijackers and won."

"Lieutenant Uhura and Nurse Chapel will be getting commendations," Kirk said. "I can't exactly put a fellow captain in for a commendation, but my thanks will be noted in my report."

Una laughed. "That's fine, Kirk. It was nice to see the Enterprise again … and I guess it wouldn't have really been the Enterprise if there wasn't some weird and dangerous emergency when you least expected it. But if Da-Tapan is ever in the same boat, I expect you to return the favor."

"Of course," Kirk said gallantly.

"Lieutenant Uhura," Spock said, "if you are up to returning to duty, your help will be invaluable. It is my intention to begin repairing the damage to the computer core as we are towed back to Arkanis, and your skills would greatly accelerate the process."

"I'm up for it, I'm just dreading finding out what they did to our beautiful hardware," Nyota said mournfully.

"Indeed," Spock intoned. "It will be painful to see."

"You two sound like Scotty moaning about his engines," Christine said.

Nyota threw her hand to her forehead and staggered dramatically. "Ach! Me puir wee bairns!" she intoned in a parody of Scotty's accent.

Everyone laughed.

#dreamwidth #original post #fanfic #fanfiction #star trek #nyota uhura #una chin riley #christine chapel

[robininthelabyrinth]

May I ask if you have a posting schedule for The Other Mountain?

Every couple of days, probably! next chapter is probably Thursday, since tomorrow they're finally opening the fandom5k fic reveals and I will want to read whatever I got/see if anyone reads what I wrote :)

[southern-continent-skies]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age (Video Games) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus Characters: The Iron Bull (Dragon Age), Dorian Pavus, Male Trevelyan (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Competence Kink, Interpersonal Drama, Getting Together, Stranger in a Strange Land, Identity Issues, Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts, Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - Demands of the Qun, dragon fights, POV The Iron Bull (Dragon Age), The South does not appreciate Dorian, But The Iron Bull certainly does Summary:

Dorian Pavus is a stranger in a strange land, and it’s affecting him more than he lets on. But at least he’s not the only one.

#dragon age #dai #fic #adoribull #is that still a thing? it should be it's fing precious #fandom5k #fic exchange