That's the only way Karl can think to describe it, picturing flames off a Viper in the three seconds he's got between when Lee slams into the cell and when Karl's back hits the wall.

"You stupid frak," Lee hisses between clenched teeth, spit dark on his lip. His face is contorted in a snarl, and there's nothing of the benign commander they'd all thought he'd become, fat and soft on Pegasus's deck. This is pure, unbridled anger and, for a moment, Karl can remember the give of Lee's flesh as he'd pulled the gun on him, watched Lee threaten to kill Sharon. "You think this is some frakking game? Some mercy mission? This is a frakking war, Agathon. A fight to the death."

"Sir…"

"Don't you frakking condescend to me, you piss-ant little bastard." Lee's face is red, his eyes all the bluer for the contrast. His arms at Helo's throat and it's tight and Helo can see Lee's other hand twitching, itching to reach for his gun. "You frakked up every chance we had to turn the tide of this thing. You and your frakking noble intentions." Lee releases him suddenly, too wound up to stand holding still, despite the encroaching of his arm on Karl's windpipe. He paces the room like a wild thing, eyes flashing fire and smoke, like Hades with an eye for vengeance.

"Major…"

Lee glares at him, forcing himself to take breath after breath of the bland, recycled air. "You know what you are, Agathon? You're a coward and a traitor. And I'm done with you."

He watches Lee stalk out of the room, and he can almost feel the heat of his anger fading off in vapor trails. He stares after him, hand at his throat, rubbing the hard line Lee's arm left on his skin. He can feel the heat from that as well and he closes his eyes, fighting to swallow against the press of pain.

It takes him about ten minutes to open his eyes, to let it all build to a boil He can feel it under his skin now, everything bottled up coming to a head. Every word against Sharon, every whisper of 'Cylon lover', every mocking glance, every thought or idea he had that was discarded because of the bed he lies in. It burns like radiation under his skin and he shakes his head, pushing the hatch out of his way and shoving his way through the crowded corridor.

He ignores everyone, brushing off Maggie's question as he moves past her, making his way to Lee's quarters. He glares at the guard at the hatch and storms past him, spinning the lock until he hears the pistons slide back. He jerks the handle and steps into the room, slamming and dogging the hatch behind him.

"Frak you, Major."

He wraps his hand around Lee's shoulder and spins him, sure his own face is a mirror of Lee's earlier. Lee doesn't get a chance to respond before Karl's hadn is over his mouth and nose, blocking off nearly all of Lee's air.

"You think you've got all the right answers, don't you, Major? Think you're always so frakking right, and maybe you are. But it's not just enough for us to live, we have to live with everything we do. You say that what they did to us was wrong, but that's what you want to do, isn't it, Major? You want to kill them all and let the frakking Gods sort 'em out?"

Lee snarls from behind Karl's hand. Karl moves it, curving his fingers around Lee's throat. "You say they deserve to die for what they did to us, well, guess frakking what, Major? We created them, we gave them that. We treated the Centurions like slaves and they turned on us. We taught them to fight and kill and destroy, Major. Taught them to be just like us, just like dear old dad."

Karl leans in and presses his lips to Lee's ear, the words hissing like the air leaving a launch tube. "Of course, that's what you've been shooting for your whole frakking life, isn't it, Lee?"

Lee's hand closes on Karl's throat again. He's got no voice, Karl's fingers too tight against his larynx for that, but his eyes speak volumes and Karl can't help but smile, the vicious pull of it strange on his face. "There's no right here, Adama. Just you and just me." He lets Lee go, stepping back as he does, watching him sag against the wall. Karl can already see the dark red marks of his fingers on Lee's skin.

"There's a wrong, Agathon," Lee's voice is barely a whisper, rough and broken from the pressure. "There's right and there's wrong and you leave your morals at the door."

"Do you, sir?" Karl slumps back against the table, hands curving around the edges as Lee sinks to the floor. "There's just right and wrong? No in-between? There's just black and white? No gray?" He blows out a breath, shaky and weak. "That why you mutinied?"

Lee closes his eyes and laughs, the sound rough. "Frak you, Helo."

"Yeah, well, I suppose frakking a Major would be a step above Cylon in most people's book." He kicks Lee's booted foot. "The way I see it, Major? There's no black or white. There's no right or wrong. It's all in between. It's all subjective, all smoke and mirrors and the heat of the moment."

"And you do what you have to in the heat of the moment?" Lee sighs and stares at the ceiling, and Helo doesn't point out that their world is made up entirely of gray. "Destroy our best chance to win the war?"

"Pull a gun on Colonel Tigh."

"Frak a Cylon."