"Well Royce, that's the thing. I don't know. Not one of us, that I know of, know. So I think a proposal is in order. None of us were born here. None of us have lived here, long enough for us to call it home. But I can bet you my bottom dollar, someone's going to make it our job to fix this place up." Bryce leans forward in his chair, tapping the table. "That's how it always is. First sign of change, people get restless, and alternate between hoping it'll fix things, or fear it coming to power. So I want to suggest that we all agree that when we finish whatever the hell it is we're doing here, whether it's killing a warlord, setting up an interim government, or just digging a goddamn well, that none of us try to impact society beyond that. We got no idea how we'd affect the people here by interfering, so lets just get the job we were sent here to do done, and leave. Sound fair?"