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"I declare Stalas to be sufficiently me that he gets to know the things I know," says Miles. "In part because I think it would make the whole situation even more confusing if I had to watch my mouth around him, in part because I think trying to keep secrets from him in the long term is probably a doomed effort when we think so much alike that we could probably start finishing each other's sentences, and in part because - he's very me. I'm inclined to trust him the way I trust myself, adjusting for information barriers like the fact that you had to explain to him what a planet was."

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"Great. I even agree with you. Will Illyan?"

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"Yes."

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"I am blaming you for everything if you are wrong."

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"I wouldn't expect anything different."



Stalas comes down the stairs.

He is still wearing his sword and all of his daggers, but the armour is bundled up and tucked under his arm, and he's wearing the clothes Bar gave him. He looks... well, he looks haggard, underfed, and beat up, but also much better-groomed than he did before the bath.
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"You left before I could tell you that seventeen is when Miles acquired an army to command," says Ivan brightly.

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"...Seriously?" says Stalas.

"It's a long story," says Miles.

"Mine isn't," says Stalas. "My father made me a commander, I got a feast the night before my first expedition, and I never got the chance to command anyone because fucking Bhelen. Thus ends the story."
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"Miles's story ends with having to introduce his army without its own knowledge to the ranks of Barrayaran service lest he be put to death for amassing a private force while having a Vor in his name."

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"Politics," says Stalas to Miles.

"Politics," Miles agrees.

"Fucking politics."
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"Miles accumulates interesting stories," says Linya, petting him.

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"And accidental mercenaries. And clones. And plastic skeleton replacements."

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"All those things," Miles agrees.

"I haven't accumulated anything lately that didn't involve dead darkspawn," sighs Stalas. "Anyway. I don't smell horrible anymore, so I guess the next step is... going outside."
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"We did find a cave, but wanted to ask Bar about it before going in. It turns out the lake contains a giant squid she didn't mention."

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"Which you found out... how?"

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"It waved. Bar?"

The squid is a long-term resident, and friendly. There are no long-term cave residents, but I don't have special surveillance capabilities over the backyard, so it is not impossible that there is something there.
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"How comforting," says Miles.

"Eh, can't be worse than ogres," says Stalas. "Let's go find this cave."
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"Sunscreen?" Linya tells the bar. "A little spray applicator, please. And I will go ahead and pay for his outfit while I'm at it."

She gets a little spray applicator and hands it to Stalas.
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Stalas eyes it suspiciously.

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"Aim that bit at whatever part of yourself will be exposed to sun, then press that button. A thin layer will do. Don't spray it directly into your eyes and avoid inhaling more than strictly necessary."

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"How reassuring," says Stalas, but he follows this procedure.

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"It wouldn't damage - well, a human, and I suspect based on Bar's acquiescence that it wouldn't much damage you either, but it does sting, in the eyes, and it is a liquid, in the lungs. So." To the back door.

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To the back door.



Stalas is visibly hesitant about going out it.
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Linya goes first. She spreads her arms illustratively. "It's very convincing in its facsimile of real outdoorsness."

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"I'm almost completely convinced that I'm being stupid and nothing terrible will happen if I step outside," says Stalas, "but it's that 'almost' that gets you."

He scowls at the threshold. And avoids looking up.
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"What scenario in particular is alarming you?"

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