"George," the aged man persisted "I do not think you understand the dire situation. Bristol is currently harboring an unknown Battleship. Not only does that present issues in itself, but we're also looking at a 83% loss of production while the station is on lockdown. Workers have been sent home, which means we have no input of raw Beryllium. In short, our newest installation is simply a dead prison cell for something that came beyond the stars." He twinkled his hands as he said his last sentence, giving more sarcastic emphasis than usual. To George, this man was a nuisance.
"So?" George inquired, curiosity in his voice.
"So do something about it, damn it! You're the CEO! You're meant to do things to prevent such things from happening!"
George raised his eyebrows.
"Lad, I'm just the CEO here, you're the guy that maintains security. You deal with it. I've got a fantastic new train set to build, so I'm kinda eager to get outta here." George said, lifting his new train set from his desk, revealing it to the clearly annoyed man before him. "See? It's got a little dog as the conductor! A dog, Darcy!" George smiled like a child as he continued to observe the box, eagerly awaiting to see what it would look like in its full creation.
Darcy sighed as he walked towards the window of Thames, his hands behind his back and his posture straight.
"I do wonder how you got this job, George. Honestly, I never knew they gave baboons trainee-ships, yet alone the position CEO of BMM."
"Astounding! They're giving jobs to monkeys now? That's just hilarious!" George belted out a fit of laughter. He calmed down and looked out the window to his right, which revealed Waterloo and the Docking Rings for New London. "Isn't it just a sight, Darcy? Just look at that lovely Bretonian architecture. Just sitting there, in space, as if it were magic."
"I think you're avoiding the questions, George."
"I think your just plain boring!
"Geor-" Darcy said, before having his head forcefully turned to look out the window.
"Just stop for a second and stare. Don't look at the moving traffic, flashing lights or active tradelanes, just look at the stillness. Be still, Darcy."
There was certainly something there. Strangely enough, the cold space that once looked like a barren wasteland revealed itself in a new light. And in this light, Darcy saw the culture of Bretonia. The road they had paved through hard labour and unity. Something clicked, finally.
"What the- look at that beauty!" George shouted, pressing his face against the window. His eyes tracked a Shetland Train that happily hummed its way past Thames and towards New London. Without a farewell, Darcy left the office, and George, behind him.
"Perhaps, he does know what he's doing after all..." thought Darcy, confusion clouding his mind.
"...I highly doubt that." He finalized, before marching down the hall, leaving the office far behind him.
![[Image: UcVFiya.png?2]](http://i.imgur.com/UcVFiya.png?2)