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[Reflexes more than intent saves him from a shattered knee. Aral twists out of the way. With her sheer speed outstripping his own, and the way that the wrenching movement conspired with the freshly healed injury in his leg, it became clear that a change of tactics was the only way to make it out of this.

He wasn't too far from his desk in this small room and the stunner on it. She'd have momentum to pull in check to turn and catch him. He pivots again and grabs for it.]

[ Meanwhile, Miles' side of the link has been buzzing rather insistently at him since this whole mess started. A faint murmur at first, barely enough to disturb his dreams. Then louder as he jolted out of bed and realized that he wasn't dreaming it. Gregor--? No, a quick mental stretch over to his emperor quickly lays that to rest. That leaves ... hell.

He's out of bed in a flash, only stopping long enough to grab Gregor - awaken him if necessary, though surely Miles' alarm is enough even if he was asleep - and head down the hallway. ]

[ A reverberating sense of a distant alarm bell in his mind awakens him, and he immediately dips his fingers into Miles's head enough to get a sense of what's going on, hastily lurching out into the hall. He even eases his link with Aral open, only to receive the adrenaline rush of combat. It's sufficient to clear any lingering traces of sleep from his system completely.

He meets Miles at the door, then stops abruptly, all momentum halted. Miles is still injured a bit-- Gregor should go in first-- damn it. All of this races through his head and filters down the link to him, but there's no time to argue, and Gregor knows he will lose this fight. He always loses this fight.

He steps back from the door to let Miles through first. ]

[ And Miles is immediately bowled over in a tangle of limbs.

She'd seen Vorkosigan going for something, and she'd known that was her cue to immediately retreat. Whether it was a weapon or a communications device, it was bad for her - and so she'd scrambled at once for the door, glanced over to confirm - yeah, a gun, some space future laser gun by the looks of it - and then ripped the door open and bounded out only to find herself entangled with someone else. Someone small. She gives a little shriek as she goes down. But out of either compassion or incompetence or sheer accident, she twists around as she falls so that he falls on top of her. ]

Euuughhh -

[ Lucky for Miles, at least, that he landed on top; if she'd landed on top of him, he'd surely have broken something. Again. (He's so goddamn tired of breaking things here, it's getting ridiculous.) Off goes the link with what is getting to be an unpleasant snapping sensation. Miles barely manages to brace against the ground to keep from landing face first. It's awkward enough ending up more or less in her arms on the ground. ]

--Kitty? What the hell are you doing in my Da's room?

[ The words fly out of his mouth without a single thought. All their precious lies unraveled in a single instant. ]

[For a brief moment, he could indulge in quite a moment of satisfaction. The two outside of the door were in perfect position.

Instead of the expected stunner fire, the collision added a hell of a complication. Heart in his throat the instant he saw WHO his assailant slammed into was both assuaged by how they landed (thank God), and dismayed as his son was now a shield. He snaps his own stunner down, prepared to fire if Gregor fr-]

Ah.

[The wig is somewhere off on the other side of the hall, he notes, after the surprised questions. The light of the hallway shredded the last of the disguise...

He lowered the stunner.]

Your Miss Jones.

[ Gregor belatedly echoes his own surprised, ] Kitty? [ But it can't be anyone else with the link snapping off like that, and Gregor physically winces at the abruptness of it, the yearning maw of where it used to be sending almost phantom limb sensations through him...

But a moment later his attention is snapping into the room itself and toward Aral. Entirely deliberately, Gregor steps into the doorway, blocking his shot completely should any further violence attempt to ensue from either side. He is more than happy to use his person as a shield no one dares fire on. ]

Lord Vorkosigan. Are you unharmed? [ Leaving Miles to, momentarily, deal with that little slip. Gregor can feel their cover crashing down around their eyes and, actually, doesn't much care. Priorities again. Plus he wasn't happy lying to Kitty so much in the first place. ]

Edited 2016-02-05 15:23 (UTC)

Your...

[ Kitty's a little winded from the fall. But she wriggles, sitting up - leaving Miles sitting in her lap. It's a little fortunate that she's just too flummoxed by this turn of events - and by what Miles just said. ]

What are you two doing...in this...? What do you bloody mean, your Da? [ Her gaze turns to the tableau in the doorway, and then back to Miles, and then to Gregor and Vorkosigan, and then to Miles again. She pushes her hand against her face, and groans into her wrist - her voice really soft, not carrying past Miles' ears - ] Please, please tell me that this is a cover and you're pretending to be his son for your safety.

[ Normally that would be a pleasant side effect of their collision, but not when she's staring at him like that. Like he's been lying to her the whole time and it's all about to crash down around his ears... Right. Well. He deserves this. Besides, he's already made a dismayed face in response to her question, and he suspects that there's no walking back from that.

Slowly, carefully, he moves to disentangle them. Mostly because he doesn't think she'd appreciate him being in her lap while he tells her he's lied the whole time. ]

No... No, it's the literal truth. I'm sorry, Kitty. We haven't been completely honest with you.

[ She stares a moment. And then she lets out a breath. And, slowly, she climbs to her feet, her face hidden. And then she looks at Miles, expression dry but not the least bit angry or disappointed as she offers him a hand up. ]

Mind giving me a few of the details on just how not-honest you've been?

[ That's hopeful, he thinks. He gladly accepts her hand up. ]

There is no clone. No vile Lord Vorkosigan out to stuff his brain into my empty body. I am the actual Lord Vorkosigan, and have been since we first stepped into this world.

[ For God's sake. She helps him stand, and then uses that same hand to rub slightly at her brow. Good lord. She drops her hand and says: ]

Were you hiding from someone? In danger? Are you in danger now?

[ She casts a faintly despairing look at Aral Vorkosigan. Not from him, apparently. Good lord, how am I supposed to even begin to make an apology... ]

[ Gregor turns around at just this moment, stepping back to let free passage between rooms-- effectively, to let them all see each other.

He interjects with, ] No one's in danger from anyone. Well, not pressingly. What he's hiding is me.

[ Gregor is more than happy to take the fall for the reason for secrecy, rather than making Miles go into in any way just what Naismith means to him. He's also not sure Miles would be willing to break his cover for him without his express permission, so he might as well just neatly cut through that dilemma. ]

[Aral leans in the doorframe that Gregor had just abandoned. There's nothing he has to add to the cover crashing down right now, so he takes the time to observe his attacker and their ally.

The cold anger is gone from his eyes now, and merely meets her eyes with collected study.]

[ Sigh. He'd been considering lying about that one last secret, but apparently he's been outvoted. It's simpler this way, the knot cut neatly in two. ]

No danger thus far. Preventative, rather, to protect from potential harm.

[ As he speaks, his accent shifts from Betan to Barrayaran, flat to guttural in the space of a few words. Nearly identical to Gregor's in fact, and just as fluid. He seems to fold up a bit too - gestures tighter and more controlled, not the expansive windmilling that marked Naismith's speech. Compressing back into himself. Fully a Vor lord in his own right, same as Gregor.

He gestures tightly to him now, a flat palmed sweeping motion. ]

This is Gregor Vorbarra. Emperor of the Barrayaran Imperium.

Edited 2016-02-05 20:00 (UTC)

Oh. Well.

[ At least it's not a surprise, exactly. She wouldn't have guessed on her own, to be sure, but...Sure. Greg. Emperor Gregor. It makes sense, far more than Gregor-the-Son-Of-No-Consequence having been raised in a strictly controlled environment, always strictly schooled on etiquette...Yeah. And Miles...That one's more unexpected. Because his cover had been so firm, so unwavering - the stories he told largely in line with his claimed background. But instead of being a clone, a man of a painful and oppressed past, he's...What? A privileged lord?

Look at him, Kitty. Looking like that...Privileged economically, maybe, but it's not like he's had an easy life.

Right. Well. Before she spends any more time processing this madness, Kitty has a burning, important question on her mind. She turns to Miles, her lips thinning just a bit. ]

The Dendarii. Your mercenary fleet. Is that just a fiction? Were you just making me empty promises?

[ Because lies are lies. Sometimes they have to be told to survive. But holding that hope out to her and then revealing that it was just some fairy-tale to get into her good graces - that she could not ever, ever forgive. No matter who they are and what they've done for her. ]

[ Leave it to her to cut straight to the heart of it. Miles admires that - admires her for it, even as it makes his guilt all that much worse. But he doesn't let that second part show in his face. Instead he straightens with a hint of fire to his eyes. ]

No fiction. The Dendarii exist, truly, and they are mine to command. The only difference is that they are the Emperor's Own auxiliary, primarily used for delicate situations that would be politically embarrassing for Barrayar to involve itself with directly.

[ He carefully puts out a feeler to Gregor - feels relieved that the link is open again, damn that power of Kitty's - and curls around him mentally as he goes on. ]

That promise was made based on truth. And I uphold it now. You have my word as Lord Vorkosigan that if it within my power to bring myself and the Dendarii to your aid, I shall do so.

[ Gregor latches on gratefully (likely even Aral can feel some greedy relief go through him, a distant echo) and for the moment doesn't spare a single thought for them potentially being too close.

Dryly, ] Given they are technically Our auxiliary forces, the Emperor himself might appreciate some knowledge beforehand as well. You might even avoid legal repercussion if he gave prior approval, even of a hypothetical exercise.

Just a thought.

How fortunate, then, that They are receiving such notification now and not after Their forces have been actually engaged.

[ Besides, who's going to say no to Kitty? ]

Aid across dimensions. [It had the tone of musing, something of a crackle of amusement and bemusement sharing space could easily be picked up from the elder Vorkosigan.

Across dimensions certainly seemed far less impossibly absurd than it did just a handful of days ago. It was still too big to properly conceptualize, so he just put it back into familiar terms and bit it off in chunks.]

I think I would like to witness the explanation to Simon.

It's a good cause. [ That's said fiercely to Aral, her lips hooking down into a ferocious scowl. ] To end the enslavement of an entire species. Don't speak ironically.

[ And also, sorry for threatening to kill you. She ought to add that part, but, well...That's a little harder to say.

She turns back to the boys, then. And she crosses her arms. ]

I'm still calling you Gregor and you Miles. That's not about your cover. You know I don't go in for any of this nobility stuff, and I don't trust it. So if you hope that this revelation's gonna get you more respect from me, think again.

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