Empyrean Interlude: Debt of Honor

"Men!" snorted Cassiopeia, in their quarters, as she rewrapped at the bandage on Commander Mark Dayton's face, after taking a look at it for herself. Yes, she'd done it again. Every man she ever loved . . . Cain, Starbuck, and now Dayton . . . Hades Hole, even her father! When someone pushed, they'd push back. Harder. "Brawling, like schoolboys. Don't you ever grow up?"

"Hey, I didn't start it! I honestly tried to shrug it off, Cassie."

"Shoulder checks don't count as shrugging it off, Mark," she returned hotly, working on her expanding vocabulary of English.
He chuckled. "I think you're thinking of body checks, sweetheart. Not shoulder checks. Those are for driving a car back on Earth, and we call them 'seat belts'. Besides, to quote my dad, you should have seen the other guy."

"Uh huh," she said again, clearly not impressed.

"Lord, I had no idea those Nomen guys were so strong."

"Didn't Starbuck warn you to stay clear of them before he left?" She arched a fine eyebrow.

"He did. But hey, I even held my tongue about what was under their kilts . . ." He grinned. Of course, Paddy hadn't been so reserved, asking the biggest Borellian that very thing about two nanoseconds after Dayton had thought it.

"Oh, yes. You're restraint, personified." She put away her medkit. "So..." Turning, she crossed her arms over her chest.

"So..."

"What happened? I'm sure I'll hear it from everyone in LifeStation, but I would like to hear it first from you." They were both out of uniform, dressed in what Dayton referred to as their "civvies".

"Yeah," he sighed. "Yeah, you deserve to." He rose, and went to the tiny kitchenette, and poured them both a drink. Bringing it back, he handed her hers, and sat next to her. "They slammed Dick," he said slowly.

She merely nodded, waiting. She knew that Captain "Dick" Dickens, who had transited the wormhole over Planet P, in the old Earth shuttle, a BaseShip on their heels, was one of the best friends he'd ever had. They all still wondered if he and Technician Hummer had made it to Earth, although recent information from the Empyrean necromancer, Ama, certainly indicated they had.

"Yeah," said Dayton, voice brittle. "Said...some lousy things about him."

"Please," said Cassie, sliding in next to him on the couch, pressing her body against his. "Tell me."

"Okay. You...well this Nomen guy, Zuga, I think his name was, came into one of the bars on the Rising Star, with a couple of his buddies. After Starbuck left, I was talking to the barkeep about Earth, and someone, I think it was Komma, was asking me about Dick." Dayton looked into his glass, and Cassie could see...what? Anger? Pain? "Well, anyway, I was telling him, and this Zuba guy made a nasty crack about Dick."

"What'd he say?"

"He...he said Dick was a coward. Ran out on the Fleet, when the Cylons were attacking. Said..." His fingers were white-knuckled on the glass, and it began shaking.

"Hey, Mark," said Cassie, taking the glass from his fingers, and setting it aside. "Don't get angry. Please."

"I'm...well, I just can't stand it when anyone..."

"Libels your friend?'

"Yes," said Dayton, turning to look at her. "They...they have no idea, no concept, of what sort of man Dick w...is. What kind of total Hell he went through for m..." He stopped suddenly, choking off the next word.

"For...for you?" asked Cassie. "He took some punishment meant for you?" She cast her mind back to the hideous asteroid base where Dayton and his crew had spent so many yahrens, laboring in conditions even a Cylon didn't deserve, before finally meeting up with Starbuck, and then the Fleet. They'd been forced to harvest koivee root, and do other mindless, menial jobs to survive, while at the mercy of the vicious and sadistic group of pirates who had lived there.

"Yes!" hissed Dayton. "He...Dick took my place. And how he survived...God only knows, hon. I sure don't."

"Mark," she said, putting a hand gently on one cheek, and smiling, "tell me. Get it out."

"Cass..."

"I know you still dream about it, Mark. Some nights you wake up, thrashing and screaming, as if you're still back there. I can't understand it all. Your English is still difficult for me, but I know part of you is still back there. On that base."

He just stared at her for a long moment, then leaned forward, and gently kissed her. "You're too good to me, Cassie. You know that?"

"Just tell me."

"Yes," he said finally. "Yes, he did. Like I told you, most of our food was that damned koivee, and whatever else we could scrounge or catch skittering through the caverns. Sometimes, alongside working on their machinery, one of us would get tagged for KP. One day, it was..."

"Kay pee?"

"Sorry. American military slang. Kitchen Patrol. One day, it was my turn, and I managed to filch a few bites of something a bit better than koivee. I came back to our hovel, and after a while, one of the kids from the family quarters wandered in, which they weren't supposed to do. He was pretty banged up, with deep cuts on one arm, and we did what we could for him. An hour or...I mean centar or two later, Bex came in, and he was steamed. Totally mong-faced drunk, and as mean as I ever saw him. He was furious about the kid, God knows why, and wanted to know who had worked on him." Dayton stood up, and moved to the tiny port, staring out at the Pegasus, in the distance, floating just abeam of the converted BaseShip, the Endeavour. He was quiet for a centon. "Dick stood straight up, and said he'd done it. I...I said no, but Bex wasn't listening. He and a couple of his thugs drug Dick off, and he laughed. Laughed that...sick, diseased laugh of his."

"Then?" asked Cassie, gently.

"I...I have never heard...screams like that, come from a Human Being before. Ever. Not even in combat, Cassie. It was...oh God, it was like listening in on Hell. All that night, and part of the next day. I have no doubt that Bex made sure we could hear. Filthy..."

"But he survived," said Cassie. "Dickins." She squeezed his hand. "One thing I learned about Dick was that he is a survivor." She'd cared for Dick in the Life Station after he'd almost been killed during a last ditch effort for freedom from the pirate base. She'd witnessed the old scars, both physical and mental.

"Yeah. He survived. Sort of. After we got back from the mines, they brought him back. Bex stood there, saying nothing. Just grinning! He looked...he looked like one big wound, Cassie. And the things they did to him...I never saw shit like that. Not even in Sadam Hussein's torture cells. We could barely recognize him." He pushed away from the window. "Simply killing him would have been a hundred times more merciful. And please, don't ever ask me to describe it. I just can't. Well, we did what we could, tended him. You'd never think so, from the smell of the stuff, but that koivee root turned out to be a kind of miniature medicine cabinet."

"Yes, I saw the analyses. A treasure trove."

"Blessing in disguise. So, yes, he recovered, but inside, in here," he pointed to his heart, "something had died. Some part of him was destroyed, Cassie. Even after he was well enough to go back to the mine, I'd look into his eyes, and I could see the void inside."

"He was very brave," she said. "I doubt I could be that courageous." She shuddered, having seen the sort of savagery that the Cylons could inflict. "But...why? Why did he do that?"

"It's the kind of man he w...is. The bravest, gutsiest man I have ever known. And..." He trailed off, as if reluctant to go further. Cassie, with her well-honed sensitivity for the emotional states of others, saw it in a flash.

"He was deliberately saving you, wasn't he?" she asked. Bits and pieces of things Dayton had said since she had met he and his men began to fall in place. "This...Iraq War you spoke of. Serving with him before." She raised an eyebrow. "You saved his life once."

He paused before replying. She could read him like a marked deck. "No fooling you, is there? Yes, he was...doing it for me. It was his way of repaying a debt, though I sure wasn't counting." He slowly moved back to the couch, moving up next to her. "It was back on Earth. We served together on a mission, in what we call the Second Gulf War, or the Iraq War. Whatever."

"And that's where it happened?"

"Yes. Dick was leader of a Special Forces team, sent in country to make contact with some tribal leaders opposed to the regime. They were to get intelligence on some new enemy radar installations. Uh...scanners. And blow them up. Although I was Air Force, I was attached to the mission because I knew the area. As a kid, I was drug all over the world by my parents, going from one archaeological site to another. When I was about 15, we spent several months at a dig, at Ur, just a few miles from our target area. I got to know some of the locals, including the sons of one of the local tribal chiefs. I learned to speak Arabic pretty well, and so I was sent along."

"Sounds pretty dangerous."

"It was. And it got worse. Somehow, the enemy had wind of us. One of the old chief's sons, who wanted to oust his older brother, the rightful leader, sold out to Hussein, and let the enemy know we were coming, in exchange for the rulership of the tribe. Well, they were waiting for us. Republican Guard soldiers."

"Betrayed," said Cassie, thinking of Baltar and the Holocaust. Human nature, it seemed, had certain universal constants.

"Yes. Before we had barely said hello, enemy troops opened fire from cover, and three of our guys went down. Poor bastards didn't have a chance. Dick took a hit. Bad. We took cover, and the firefight lasted all night."

"And you kept him alive," said Cassie. "All through the battle." Visions of herself, guarding a wounded Bojay, while Starbuck and the rest assaulted the Cylon base on Gamoray, flashed powerfully to mind.

"Yes. It's tough, trying to give aid to a wounded man, in the dark, and under fire. I stayed with him, all night, returning fire. I got a couple. Not sure, exactly. Then, came the dawn, and we were sure they were going to move in, and finish us off."

"But they didn't. What happened?"

"Folks loyal to Talal, the rightful leader, moved in during the night, and killed as many of the Guards as they could. We were taken to his camp, and managed to both get the intel, and blow the radar installation. We were there for six days until the ground assault caught up with us. Yeah, Dick survived. But you know what? We never spoke of it. We just never did. He knew. I knew, and that was that. Except that he named his son after me."

"I see. And when the Nomen spouted off about him, you lost your temper."

"Yeah. Called him a coward, and a weakling. 'A woman playing hero'. His very words! As God is my witness, Cassie, I tried to ignore him. I know I have a temper, and I have to watch it, but...He just kept egging me on. I was going to walk out, when he grabbed me by the shoulder."

"Uh oh."

"Yes. Even then, I tried. I looked at the jerk, and I gave him a chance to take it back. To apologize."

"Nomen never apologize, Mark."

"So I learned, if a bit too late. So, when he spewed his crap again, I told him 'Coward? Weakling? Woman? Captain Richard Alexander Dickins. United States Navy. Bronze Star. Silver Star. Navy Expeditionary Medal. Navy Cross. Three Purple Hearts. Congressional Medal of Honor. Man's man. Consummate warrior. He was, is, and always will be a hero. A word you obviously do not understand, you hyper-functioning pituitary sodden piece of gristle wedgied pork butt!' "

"Oh Lords!" moaned Cassie.

"He threw his drink in my face, and I just lost it."

"So I see," she smiled, indicating his bandaged face.

"I socked him in the kisser while he was insulting me, then gave him a knee where it hurts the most. Next thing I know, I'm pounding his face, and blood's running down mine."

"What's going to happen?"

"There'll be a hearing, but there were about twenty witnesses, as well as the security tapes from the bar."

"Good. I don't need to be visiting you in the brig, Mark."

"Yeah, that would kind of mess up my social schedule. Especially with the Endeavour undergoing repairs."

"Indeed it would," she said, softly, running a finger down his unbandaged cheek.

"Cassie..."

"Yes?" she said, voice soft, like a purring felon.

"I...thanks. For listening. I've never told anyone that story. About me and Dick, in the desert. Except in my original report. It's been..."

"Like a balloon, ready to burst."

"Yes! Exactly. Thanks for being here. Being ready to listen, when I need you."

"I'm always ready to listen, Mark,' she said, gently taking his hand, and nibbling on one finger before placing his hand over her breast, then following this up with a long lingering kiss.

"Cassie..." he whispered, as her soft but insistent kisses followed the path of his bandage, her flesh swelling under his touch.

"I am always here," she sighed, and everything fell away.