It's odd, how the ringing in his ears makes Felix's voice sound as though it's echoing down the corridors that he'd known so well on Pegasus; how the words write themselves over his memories of the horrors he'd seen unfolding: what Admiral Cain had ordered done to the civilian ships, the interrogation techniques of Thorne and his cronies, how all of them, every single officer and crew member, had become so much less than they were --

-- and how similar it all feels now, on Galactica, with the aftermath of the mutiny written among them all in bloodstains and broken trust, in --







"Godsdamn you."

His voice is soft, so soft, and colder than it's ever been.

"And godsdamn me, too, I suppose. For my own inaction."