And oh, Gaeta knows that anger well. He still tastes it more nights than not, even if he made his peace with the mutiny's end; even if he knows he'll never be under the Admiral's command again.

For seven years I have done my frakking job, and for what?

"Gods yes," he says, fervent. A humorless chuckle follows. "If I'm off morpha for the foreseeable future, at least that means I can drink again."