A Centurion wipes the Basestar wall with a bloody cloth as Cavil enters. "I see you're still cleaning up your mess," he says jovially, resurrection sickness almost hidden. Natalie wonders if perhaps it's not really their mess, and Cavil jokes that this explains why none of her people are helping the Centurions with their work. He sits, and grins at her. "Really, Six, if you had wanted some room to spread out, you could've just asked." Natalie is unamused. "Is there anything that isn't fodder for a joke with you? Or is that really how you see our very existence, as some sort of nihilistic punch line?" Not a bad take on Cavil's processes, actually. He laughs, loving her words. "I like that. But quite honestly, I'm feeling very serious." He really does look sick as hell. "Getting riddled with bullets affects me that way." Natalie offers with one lovely brow to serve up another round, and he takes the blame on himself, stunning the Eights at the table. "You had legitimate concerns, but I refused to hear them. But now I'm listening. So tell me, what's to be done to stop all this and let us get back together?" The Eights demand that he stop lobotomizing the Raiders, and he agrees. Emboldened, Natalie tells him to unbox the Threes.
Cavil pauses. "Resurrect her entire line? Don't forget, Six, it was D'Anna's messianic quest for secrets better left alone that started us down this divisive path in the first place." Natalie agrees, but says that for all his talk about "restoring unity," he could give thought to restoring the Cylons' greater unity, and unite all twelve models once and for all. He's clearly not feeling it, but promises to make their case. Imperiously, she orders the Centurions to escort him from the ship, and for once they don't move. "Please," she adds, with the quietest trepidation in her voice. They step forward and Cavil stands; she won't look away from him or back down, but she's worried. "It's a good thing you remembered the magic word," he grins. "You're going to find you opened a bigger can of worms than you realize." He leaves, with a Centurion behind him, and the cleaning beast continues at its labor, snapping its head suddenly toward the screen.
Lee Adama sits down in his new rightful place, as the Quorum Representative for Caprica, and thinks about the future, and worries at the Laura issue. Tom stands at the door to the conference room, and speaks. "Inspiring, isn't it? A government of the people, for the people, and answerable to the people. At least that's the idea. I heard you tried to see her." He enters, and Lee nods. "I had some bills I wanted to discuss, projects Delegate Cowan was pushing before she died. But they told me she wasn't in." She was, of course, just not for Lee. "By standing up for Baltar, you crossed the line with her. And Laura Roslin is not the type to forgive and forget." Lee protests: she forgave Tom Zarek his multitude of sins, made him VP. And Tom just smiles. "To keep me on the sidelines. Same way she'll try to sideline you." Then what was the point of Zarek's nomination? "Because you did stand up for Baltar. And you put Roslin on the stand to do it. You weren't afraid to ask some hard questions and to demand some honest answers." Lee assures Zarek, one-time terrorist, one-time Delegate from Sagittaron, that he won't be reprising his performance at the trial. But that's not Zarek's aim, and for all his talk and trouble he is still on Laura's side.