"Has Paulla been saying that we can't help others? Because we're too weak?" Paulla's back goes straight, but the words die in her mouth. Good, better, best, bested. "I disagree." With that false sadness he affects: "O, Paulla. I am so disappointed with you." It stings her, still; she worries how far this will go. "I'm disappointed with all of you. Here you all are, I'm gone for three minutes and you're lapping up Paulla's icy pragmatism?" Paulla does that great Jesus, Girl face again. "There is a way to feed ourselves and the people from Dogsville! There is a way to bring hope to the lower decks! To the whole of this poor ship! There is a way to win!"
Right about now is where you should start pissing yourself. Six speaks through him, like the old days. "She thinks we can't get what we need? All we need is strength." ("Old gods die hard. Even among your people. The old Gods are fighting back. People have room in their hearts for one great belief. You or the old Gods. Which one will it be?" And he said, "Why can't I just be a man? Do I really need to take on the Gods single-handed?" And the answer was obvious: "All we need is strength! And strength comes from within.") Six nudges him further: "We can get more guns..." He's surprised, but game. "And... guns! More guns, bigger guns, better guns. And when we have those, we will win!" The angel loves it, of course -- this is practically her reason for existing, as we near the endgame -- but not as much as the crowd, which goes fucking apeshit.
Bill goes back again, to the job site. Sparks rain down, counting hours and days. It's aversion therapy, a way to mark the time, a way to come to terms with the secrets that lie in Laura's body, and Saul's. Ellen was always jealous of him, and he of her in his quiet, soft way; now she has allied with Saul's alien secrets, his terrible history, to take it all away again. This time forever: if they leave, if the Final Five leave, the Fleet will wither and die. He needs them, he needs their help; for that, he'll give his old girl over to the enemy, for their aid and their comfort.
Saul visits Ellen for another round, having made up his mind. "Ellen. Hate me, I'll take it. But this is bigger than that. Galactica needs the Baseship." Ellen laughs, knowing it was going to come down to this. "Why did you even make love to me, Saul, when your real love was at home?" Saul thinks she's feinting back to the Caprica shit, his son, which she's already used to destroy two perfectly useful conversations; she's not. "Bill needs the Baseship. I heard you. Did you hear me? Her brush is where mine used to be. My dresses are gone." She can't know how long he kept them, just for the scent of her. She has amnesia too, born of eighteen months in Cavil's cell. "She shares our bed. Do you remember, I got us that mattress..." Saul's astonished that she went to his quarters, but before he can stutter and pirate-talk about that, the Chief arrives. Then Tory, and Caprica. She welcomes them all in, putting on her warmest face. "What is this," he asks, but he knows.