[ That is part of his incredulity -- it's not like this is the first time he's run into that Vorish ideal of honor. Byerly's drunken persona could well be a complete farce, of course, especially since he's picked up on how he does have some pride, throughout this conversation. But honor's one of those things, to Wash, an ideal mostly held by people too far from the trench to know how poorly it holds when you're climbing over burning corpses and fused silica that used to be farmland. Much like his own ideal of making sure everyone comes back alive, maybe. ]
Death before dishonor. [ A breath, his fingers twitching against his arm. ] I used to hear that in the corps, too.
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Death before dishonor. [ A breath, his fingers twitching against his arm. ] I used to hear that in the corps, too.
Why would it be so dishonorable, exactly?