No spoilers, just speculation.
"I didn't do it!" Sharon finally gets words out, a complete sentence, but she has no idea how. She's been kicked in the ribs so soundly -- apparently in an attempt to subdue her -- that she can't breathe.
The soldier is cursing at her, spitting to shut the frak up right in her ear. The spittle mixes with blood already on her face from where she was slammed into a bulkhead.
Sharon remembers that. She doesn't remember anything else, only coming on board, being summoned to see Adama for congratulations, and then screaming screaming screaming...
She has no clear memory of shooting Comander Adama, but knows just as surely that she did, just like the hatch, the sensor readings, the bombs...
"I didn't do it," she whimpers, shielding her face. Her hands are bound together. "I'm not-" ... not a Cylon, the familiar words sound rotely in her head. Strangely, the fact that she is a Cylon is now her only defense against mutiny and treason (and once, she recalls, those were the most horrible crimes she could even have conceived of...)
She's shoved back against the bulkhead again, a pistol shoved so hard against her windpipe that she chokes and sputters in spite of herself. She's still sobbing airlessly no, no, no, squeezing her eyes closed, but she prays hard and fast that he'll pull the trigger and kill her quickly.
She doesn't want to live through this.
Just when bright spots begin to cloud behind her eyelids from lack of air, she's shoved onto the floor of her cell. She coughs, tastes blood, and makes no move to get up.
Terror grips her -- she didn't think she could feel any more terror -- and she stops pleading her innocence. "Do it!"
For the first time, she wishes she was a Cylon, through and through. She doesn't think they feel fear.
"You're not that lucky," one of the six guards watching her grits out. "If Commander Adama survives, he'll want to kill you himself."