Dereliction of Duty
Dereliction of Duty
Summary: Damon sacrifices what little rep he has to speak with Jules.
Date: PHD#212 (11/16/09)
Related Logs: You Aren't Listening

The past twenty-four hours haven't been exciting for Jules. Mostly she's laid on her bunk with her back to the guards. It's sometime after Damon starts his rotation that she stirs. Turning over, she reveals a face riddled with bruises. There might even be dried blood on her upper lip. There's definitely some on her sweats. Gingerly, her feet meet floor and she crawls over towards the toilet.

Ever the statue, Damon watches Jules and manages to lower his eyebrows just a tad at the bruises on Jules' face. A polarizing issue indeed, he tilts his head and averts his eyes as she nears the toilet. Giving her just a little bit of privacy, it dawns on him that she's in the same cell that he was while he was awaiting his execution. Let the other guards watch, but he won't.

When she finally drags herself to the toilet, it isn't used for it's normal use. Point of fact, Jules empties the contents of her stomach into the shiny metal orifice and then falls back, appearing disoriented. A minute or two goes by and she draws herself up, back against the wall and levels her gaze on Damon. "Why don't you just kill me already." There's a hoarse tightness in her voice. Desperation, too. "I killed your commanding officer. He was my enemy and my mission was to kill him, does that make me a murderer instead of a soldier?"

That gets Damon's attention for sure. However, instead of showing his pure surprise, he maintains a triad face as he slowly turns his head to level back on Jules' features. Glancing over her fat lip and her bruises, he watches her in silence. While not passively gazing at her like the statue he's supposed to be, his features are hard to read. He does, however, slowly tilt an eye towards the camera in the room without moving his head one bit. Seems the man's itching to talk.

Rather than bring her silence, the non-response from Damon incenses Jules and she lurches forward, clinging to the bars of her cell for support. "It wasn't personal. At least, not how you might think. I got the order back on Scorpia. It took me months. Months. Months of thinking it over, deciding if. And then when if became definitely, how and when. It came down to the basics. Us and them." Blue eyes focus intently on Damon as if trying to bore into him. "I am a soldier, not a murderer."

Damon gazes right back into her eyes with his thousand yard stare. His cold, almost lifeless eyes blink, seemingly unphased by her outburst. Not moving his hands one inch closer towards the trigger of his gun, he manages to not even flinch as she lurches to the bars of the cell. Then, just when it's about to seem that he's not going to give her the joy of getting a response from him, it happens. "Us and them…" He whispers quietly, watching her face. A question or a statement, he doesn't elaborate. "…it's just killing."

"But it isn't. It's not that simple. It isn't just killing." Jules relaxes some when Damon responds and sinks down to the floor on her haunches, face pressed up against the bars. "It's this war. It doesn't make any sense. How many of you are even left? Why waste those numbers fighting machines?"

Damon's eyes follow her to the floor, not giving a damn for the look that the other MP is giving him. Getting the familiar 'you're going to get busted' glare, the dark skinned former prisoner seems to care less for the rules than he does for the moment itself. "I'm not the person to ask. I've been walking dead for years." Damon says, speaking in slow, quiet sentences like he always does. Watching her like a calm, quiet monolith from above, he lowers his voice. "Just breathe, Oz. You know I been in that cell, too."

"I'd heard." The woman breathes deep and let's out a weary sigh, gripping the bars and closing her eyes. "I meant to ask you what it was like… but I was pretty sure that'd have given me away." Eyes remaining closed, Jules says, "I'm not ashamed of what I did, but I'm not proud of it either, y'know? The only thing I can say that I'm thankful for is that I wasn't ordered to destroy the whole ship. It was just one man's life. Not billions and billions of people dead by fire." A tight swallow there and she asks, "How did you survive?"

Chances are, Damon's going to be replaced very soon if anyone's getting word to Salazar or Ezra about this. "Not sure if I did. Took the end of the world for me to find life, if only I'd trust to reach out for it." Damon offers, breathing quietly from his position against the wall. "Sooner or later you're gonna get quiet and just accept it when it comes, Oz. It's easier when you get there." He pauses, taking a moment to decide something. Gods help him not get busted down to working the lunch line. "Why'd you switch sides, Oz?"

"I never did." Jules' eyes blink open as she replies, a silky shimmer of tears brimming over her lids. "I never did. That was the hardest part." She swallows and takes another deep breath. "I care about people. I wouldn't want to see the crew hurt. But that doesn't change the fact that I am a Cylon and you all aren't. Or that we're at war." There's a thoughtful pause there and she says, "Maybe someday we won't be."

Damon simply stares at Jules, unmoving and unblinking. It's truly a talent the way that his eyes don't shift to chances in air and the way the light bounces off of the walls. It's a cold, quiet, dead statueesque stare. "You killed the man who gave me my life back." Damon simply replies, still not making one move towards his gun. The guard next to him, however, tenses as if worried that Damon might open fire on her.

"It was my mission," Jules answers with a helpless shrug. The look on Damon's face has her scooting back towards her bunk, however. "Soldier to soldier, I'd appreciate it if you passed the word along to Ensign Nikos that I would like to talk to her, if she's willing. I don't think she understands the type of man she's working for."

"I will." Damon replies, not making one move towards his weapon. That doesn't stop one of the soldiers from leaning towards his shoulder and speaking quietly into his wireless. Damon ignores it. "Sheridan woulda wanted it be him than everyone else if I read him right. Might be he went out on his own terms." Damon replies, watching her face in silence. Something changes in his eyes, revealing the true sadness locked inside of the conflicted prison-trooper. "If you go, you go in peace, huah? Frak this war. Sooner this is all done the better."

"That's the plan," Jules mumbles as she sinks onto her bunk, head touching pillow gently. "I appreciate you talking to me like I'm a person with feelings. Everyone on the ship thinks I'm a nutcase or a traitor. Or both." Slowly, she curls into a fetal position on the bunk, twisting her blanket around her. "I've spoken to four people since the bombing. And one of them tried to beat me to death."

They have camera's in here-though mainly they feed to the S2's desk. However when eyes catch something that should not be going on, plus have words coming back from the brig- Well you can see how it might look. All the same There's a quick step in through the hatch from across the Corridor. Not a long walk by any imagination.

There's a look, one that is angled mainly to the other guard, and then over to the one that is clearly talking to the Prisoner- The one clearly breaking the rules right there. A twitch of his mustache.

"Marine!" comes the bellow. "What the Frak are you doing?! Neglecting your Post. Turn your ass around, and march this way- NOW!" Forget the cease talking to the prisoner nonsense. Right now, it is get him away from the cell- then deal with the rest.

"Don't I know it…" Damon replies with words emphasizing his own social status as a murderer to be watched closely. Turning his head to glance at the marine near him, looking tense and ready to jump. Turning his eyes, he sees the MP near the door watching him intently as well. Not one bit surprised to hear the angry call from Ezra, Damon turns his eyes on Jules for a quiet little nod. "Someone had to do it." He adds, and then turns. Moving his hands away from his weapon on its lanyard, he holds his arms out and starts to walk towards Ezra. "We in the habit of beating our prisoners now, warden?" He says, openly mouthing off to Ezra. "Bitch is half your size."

The moment Jules becomes aware of Ezra's presence in the room, she sits bolt upright and stands on her bunk with her back to the bulkhead. There's a mixture of fear and anger on her face and she stares at the Major, fists clenching. She doesn't say anything just yet.

"Calvera, you have one second to shut your frakking mouth and follow a godsdamned order." comes Ezra's voice. And the Major is moving simple enough to engage the other guard. "Dover, keep your gun on the dumb assed soldier here, who seems to have lost his mind." Simple, there. As for Damon's other comment the Major isn't even answering. For right now, his business is the mouthy, dumb frak of a bitch. "Outside- Now."

Damon keeps his arms up as if yet another police officer is ordering him to comply. Let's face it, he's been here many, many times before. Tilting his head, he gives Ezra the dirty eye as he passes and moves out of the brig, further into the belly of Kharon. Moving calmly, he ensures that he doesn't even twitch as he's within kicking distance of Ezra.

Once outside of the brig there's a motion to the other guard "Take his guns." And eyes focus right there in on Daman for a single moment. "I swear, marine, you're dumber than a piece of walking shit." a shake of his head as he follows on in behind the other "As of right now, you're relieved of duty and are to be confined to the bunks, We'll move you to the brig, after we've moved the other prisoner." A pause.

"You're supposed to be guarding the prisoner- Not talking and ignoring your orders and duty. I'll give you a couple of nights to think it over. And before you open your shithole again, remember you're talking to an officer."

Placing his hands atop the helmet on his head as the other guard starts to strip him of his submachine gun, pistol, and other munitions, Damon keeps his eyes forward. Something about being a former prisoner makes him very comfortable it seems with being disarmed. His features quiet and calm, he doesn't even bother to raise his voice. "Sir, she's clearly insane, sir. Just wanted to pay my respects if she's gonna get executed, sir." Damon offers, making few attempts to bullshit the man.

"Oh by all means, I didn't know you needed your godsdamned peace." The Major responds with a snort. "Cut the horse shit. You're not allowed peace, nor is anyone else. Even if Sheridan came back from the grave for peace he'd not get it." And Ezra keeps a cool eye there on the other Marine. "godsdamned idiot." Still nothing about the beating that Jules herself got.

"Whether she's insane or not, we have our orders to follow you yours, and I mine. So get that in your skull before you do something that gets your ass airlocked." a beat. "You understand me Marine?"

"Sir, I understand you clear sir!" Damon barks out, causing a small number of people down the hallway to slow their pace. Of course being smart staff, they don't linger, hoping to eavesdrop as much as they can before moving on. Effectively stripped of his gear, the prison-soldier keeps his eyes forward. Keeping with protocol, he chooses to not push the envelope any further.

"So next time, you question mine, you maggot- you better be godsdamned doing yours." And with that Ezra is turning to move back towards the Security hub. "Escort him to the racks, and tell Dover he's replacing Calvera on Brig duty, you got it?" He's not looking back to see if his orders are being followed- because if they aren't there will be more than enough hell to pay.

Not even waiting until he's shoved, Damon hands over his helmet and moves his arms to his sides. Keeping his head low, his dreadlocks sway as he parts through the milling crowd at the end of the hall. Opening the door to the Marine berthings with a loud slam, Damon steps inside and goes directly to his bunk where he'll stay.

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