(backdated to pre-Pan plot -- also threadjack Miles in the comments!)

[vorbarra]

[There is a thin, angular man with dark neat hair and intensely focused hazel eyes on the screen. He clears his throat when the vid starts; he's had to swallow down his nerves and put on his calm political mask to speak. His accent is a gravelly, guttural sort of Russian, as if Russians went into space and were fast-forwarded a thousand years. Which they did.]

Hello. My name's Greg. I'm adding to your barrage of new arrivals. It's still very surreal to be here, if for no other reason than that I'm on pre-space travel Earth.

[He does look honestly bemused by that.]

I was wondering what the regulations are for obtaining jobs around here. They've assigned me one, but I was hoping for something... low key. Normal, menial work. [A quirk of his lips.] I have experience putting in lights, if that's relevant, and as a navigator.

I was also looking for confirmation that all of the, ah, abilities listed in our files are real. I'd prefer not to test something like this to find out.

Thank you.

Comments

[vorbarra]

[Oh. Well then. Miles is such a force of nature that Gregor can't help being startled by just how different Hermann is. There's no reason they actually should be the same, and yet... He'd let his preconceptions be colored.]

Calling Barrayar peaceful is laughable, [Gregor says with some dryness.] But I take your point. These superpowers as you call them are bizarre to us, too.

May I ask what it was that you worked on? And what you continue to research now?

[He can't help being even more curious if he really isn't that much like Miles.]

[mathemagier]

[If he looks exasperated, it's because he explains things about his world a lot. He's in the middle of writing a comprehensive report to link to in the future, but for now, here's the pretty condensed version]

I studied an inter-dimensional wormhole we called The Breach in my world. I was tasked with discerning its weaknesses and sorting out how best to destroy it- which we did eventually manage just before I was brought here. I would have like to have studied all my data more thoroughly, perhaps sort out how it was formed to begin with. Because while we may lack the ability to create such things ourselves - and perhaps that's for the better - I am still endlessly fascinated.

As you can rather imagine, the device said to have brought us here intrigues me in a similar manner. Not to mention the array of physically impossible abilities some of us find ourselves with. How and why they function in such a manner is something I'll never tire of attempting to discern.

[vorbarra]

[Miles frequently looks impatient when others can't follow him quickly enough, even Gregor, so Gregor is oddly comforted by this familiarity. Clearly some things haven't changed, such as how smart he is, just differently applied.]

Destroying a wormhole? [Gregor shivers visibly, an instinctive Barrayaran revulsion overtaking him.] God. That's the stuff of nightmares. You could cut Barrayar off from the entire rest of the galaxy-- again. We rely on wormholes to travel.

Our wormholes aren't inter-dimensional, thankfully. But I can appreciate your fascination, if this is your area of research.

[mathemagier]

[It's a curious reaction, and oh, now he is very interested. He leans forward, a half dozen questions at the ready. He tries not task too many of them at once, as it's a very Newtonian habit he'd rather not adopt. He's only marginally successful]

Travel? How does that work? Are they permanent tears in space-time, linking two places together to simply travel through, or are they created? What is your relationship to the rest of your galaxy?

[vorbarra]

[He sees that gleam. For all they really are different people, it looks very familiar. It's the restraint that he's not used to seeing on Miles's face. He'd be amused if this weren't such a grim subject that hits close to his Barrayaran home.]

We have no idea how to create them; they link two locations, yes; we don't know what's through the other side unless we make the jump, an occupation that has correspondingly gained some notoriety. We travel through them with spaceships, same as anyone else, I imagine.

Our relationship to the rest of the galaxy is that we're a cul-de-sac. [Ah yes, here's his absolute somberness.] Our wormhole collapsed and we were left stranded for 600 years, a period referred to as the Time of Isolation. It was a dark time. Two generations ago, we found a new route out. We've been catching up ever since.

You would be... a source of much terror on my homeworld, doctor.

[mathemagier]

[Same as anyone else, like tears in space-time are common and everyone's built spaceships to fly through them. It's an amusing thought]

Well I assure you the destruction of ours was of absolute necessity.

[Hermann leans back, contemplative, then looks beyond the camera and straightens] Well I won't keep you, Mr.. Gregory? But do answer me one last question if you will. Has an alien species made up of massive silicon-based creatures ever invaded your world?

[vorbarra]

[Of course they're common. They seem rather inevitable to Gregor-- everyone here is just behind.]

I mean no criticism, of course. The knowledge itself, separate from intent, would be enough to hold all of Barrayar hostage. I can't help but think it.

Greg Vorthys, [he introduces himself politely, though it sends a brief, strange pang through him to be lying to someone that looks so like Miles. Pure instinct, that.] And no, we haven't made contact with any aliens at all. We've looked.

[mathemagier]

Mr. Vorthys, then. Well I must say I'm relieved in that case. It was a pleasure speaking with you.

[He's very obviously distracted by something off-screen] Ah, I hope you manage to settle in well.

Newton, don't--!!

[click]

[vorbarra]

[Under his cover, he'd properly be Lord Greg, but he really doesn't expect anyone else to understand Barrayaran modes of address. It's a weird thing to send a short pang of homesickness through him, but it does.

Gregor had just opened his mouth to return his farewell, though he's not sure why he'd cut off the conversation-- and then his question is answered.

Right. Well. Time to go find Miles.]