Asadi is looking at him with an expression tantamount to that which might follow some utterly acharacteristic declaration, and clearly the end result they are all approaching is one in which he will not be extremely useful or extremely necessary, and so he sweeps the arrangement of instruments deemed useless from the table's surface in a brisk sequence to return them to their supply and moves to the door with a purposeful certainty that is not entirely congruent to his current sense of indecision.

"Yes, well." He pivots neatly to face them and jerks his chin indicatively toward the door, one hand snapping over the knob. "Research. Much work to be done."