The Stormloader defied and finally broke the laws of gravity as it slow began to ascend in the blue and white oceans of the sky. Its departure was being watched by many that day. Crowds had gathered around the Vanguard complex to watch them depart. Perched high upon the slopes of La Perdita's volcano, two more witnessed the event.
A middle aged man stood in a brown suit. An elaborate cane rested in his right hand. His appearance was unspectacular, but his stature was miraculous.
Beside him stood a man dressed in a finely tailored white suit. His appearance was one that defined a man weathered through experiences that would fill the lifetimes of any ordinary man as well as many extraordinary man. "Should we....?" his authoritative voice began before the hand of his companion called for silence.
"No," the middle aged man replied. "This is none of our affair. Everything is moving as it should. It is they who shall decide their own fates. Not us. We have not the right."
"A fate so terribly stacked against them," the man in white replied. "The odds in this game are not hardly fair."
"I believe there is an old saying that fits this. 'It's not whether you win or lose but how you play the game.'"
"You are a harsh rules master. Besides, I've never known you to enjoy losing."
"You've never known me to enjoy winning, either." As the craft turned into a spec and then a memory, the man in brown laid his cane across his shoulder as he began to walk away. "Of course, my rule only applies when you are working for me. You are a free man at all other times. I merely ask that if you do decide to lend your aid that you use the utmost discretion."
