"Er...I don't think we need any fuel right now," stammered the Exile, "but we do need you. Belaya, if we prove to you that your 'purification' does not involve anything remotely related to being turned into fuel, will you stick with us instead of...the Machine?"
The Archivist nodded blankly, and without another word, the Exile grabbed her hand and gently but forcefully pulled her from the waiting bench. "If you're sure--madam--!"
Tysyacha, Belaya, and the stunned mechanic sped towards the Hawk, frenzied.