Curmudgeon: That's two thousand miles from here. How do you expect us to get it there? Drag it?
Pappagallo: If we have to, yes. There's always a way. But the first step... defend the fuel.
Big Rebecca: Words, just words. You'll die for a pipe dream.
Warrior Woman: Wrong, we fight for a belief. I stay.
The Captain's Girl: I wish it would work, Pappagallo. You can't expect to compete with that. Every day we get weaker while they get stronger. It's finished. I'm sorry.