"D'Anna will be able to identify them. We'll take you to the Hub if you help us unbox D'Anna." Laura's suspicious; black is white and scripture is fiction. Adama asks for fact: "Give us the coordinates of the Hub first." Natalie can't. "I said we would take you there." Bill orders her out, and the Marines march her to the door. She turns, asking for his word. Trust starts somewhere. She'll lead her people.
"I'll give you the coordinates. But I want your word." She steps forward, and Bill looks into her eyes. He loved Boomer, loves Athena; loves whatever Kara's becoming, and his President. He can take the measure of a man. He rooted out the first Cylon we ever rooted out. "Once their identities are revealed and we come back here, we'll be free to leave your Fleet with the Five?" Laura jerks. "Yes, they're here with you." The song begins to play, the one only we can hear; Tigh stares at her. "The Final Five are in your Fleet. That's why our Raiders turned back the attack in the Nebula." Tory looks away, and Tigh does not, but they're both thinking the same thought, and it's a thought you just don't think.
Out in the corridor, after the prisoners and friends are gone, Bill asks Saul what the weapons hold was all about. And even though he was acting sketchy for like a page of dialogue, his shrug is eloquent enough to believe: "To be absolutely honest with you, Bill... I didn't. What can I say? We got lucky." Lucky us! Bill tells him to get a Raptor out to the Hub for some recon. "Maybe we can get lucky again." And because we haven't seen these two in a while, they do a whole salute and turn and patented Bill Adama "Tigh! ...Thank you," and they nod and whatever hilarious shit straight guys do when they secretly want to hug each other super hard in front of everybody and never let go.
289er floats near the Hub. I love how the further we get, the more the stories are about Raptors and not Vipers. Have you noticed that? It's always Racetrack. I kinda thought that would start to happen a little more after Kara showed up with gallons of Raider blood all over her shit. "Lords of Kobol, shield your eyes. Get it with the gun camera..." Skulls notices how beautiful it is: it's like a cross between a Resurrection Ship and a Basestar: rather than parallel ribs it's a polygon, pointing in towards the middle. Ushering them home, in every line and angle, like Dualla on the wireless. "Tell it to the Fleet!" Racetrack laughs, and they jump back. It was beautiful, as all Cylon artifacts are; it was eternal life, and soon it'll be eternal death. Heaven for everyone.