The tables have turned in an instant. Playing for time, you take a closer look at those gashes in their flux navigator, which is the one bulky piece of equipment for which they (and you) have no spares. Without a tight seal, the device can't produce reliable readings. Is there anything at hand that will withstand 67 million years of stresses and strains? Duct tape won't do. Then you have an idea.
You come to the realization that you can cobble together one—and only one—fully functional time machine by replacing several of Vance's damaged components with your own. However, this means there's only one ride home: everyone who's going back to the present must go together in the RV. Are you willing to fix Vance's machine?
It also dawns on you that neither Vance nor Skyler knows how—or if—you can render assistance. That opens intriguing possibilities. Will you help Darien and/or his cohorts out of altruism? Or are you motivated by fear of what a dangerous and desperate man like Vance will do when crossed? Alternatively, if there were ever a more opportune time to extract a price for your help, you can't think of when it would be. This is also the perfect opportunity to film a last bit of high-stakes drama. Then again, you just might be in the mood to double cross your archenemy, who has bedeviled you since day one, by playing along and using your people skills to pretend to help, right up until you leave him stranded in the Mesozoic. Lastly, you could pointedly refuse to help him.
What do you want to do?