Althea waited for a suitably rousing part of the Captain's speech to move to a better observational position. She was, after all, supposed to be the security officer on this ship and it was well past time to act like it. She wanted to get a better look at the crowd below and saw plenty of open space at the back of the mezzanine. She hoped that action of some kind, even simple movement, would shake her out of her mopey mood after that last mission. Two of the Rocinante's avatars, Cayne and Abelle stood at the edge of the floodlight glare behind the Captain. Their heads scanned left and right rhythmically synchronized as they watched for any threats. The avatars were very good bodyguards. She could ignore everything on the mezzanine level and concentrate completely on the floor below. Orianna noticed her leaving and hesitated, pouting a little at loosing her vantage point, but joined Althea at the aft end of the Tourist Trap. "We're missing it," Orianna whispered as she tucked in closer to Althea. "Just doin' my job, lady." Althea smiled and said, "I've heard this one at least three times. The Captain's not one for wasted effort so she recycles a lot of her speeches. Look..." She pointed across the floor to the mezzanine where many of the crew were gathered. "Here's where she talks about the greater good that colonists perform by heading into the darkness of space and yeah, yeah, yeah, 'spacefarer's aren't we all', and a big sweeping gesture with her left hand. And... applause." Orianna laughed quietly as Captain Roaouh and the audience of Twennies did exactly what had been predicted. Althea patted the young woman on her shoulder and turned her attention back to the crowd on the main floor. Orianna quickly flashed her tongue and frowned. "I saw that, child!" Althea's concentration didn't waver from the crowd below but she did manage to shoot a nasty look Orianna's way using only her eyebrows. Orianna's expression changed to one of mild amusement and she resumed listening to the rest of the Captain's address. From her new vantage point, Althea could barely make out the translation as it was pumped back through the public address system. Whatever language these cultists spoke, it was coarse and flat with too many consonants. It lacked the fluidity and melodious nature of Martian. Even the Sol Alliance version of Martian had more elegance, she thought. She'd heard little about the Twennies cult before this new mission. A brief article scrolled across the display embedded in her artificial corneas. It was a semi-religious affiliation based loosely on the interpretations of some books found buried on Earth after the Great Filter Event. Its adherents believed that the 20th Century had been the height of human advancement and subsequent culture and technology wasn't worthy of the followers of the One True And Really Real God. The language they spoke was a vague approximation of one called English. Every native speaker had died out soon after the Great Filter Event. Many of the survivors blamed that culture for the whole thing and anyone caught speaking English during the incessant rioting that followed was immediately killed. They chose leaders using an old democratic system based loosely on an even older political system that dated back to before industrialization. Althea looked at the strangely dressed women standing at Captain Roaouh's left side. The older woman, Lynn Fumiko was the current appointed leader of the Twennies. Her daughter, Kara, stood beside her, apparently translating for her mother. ------------------------------------------------------------- A little more of the narrative in my ongoing space opera, started here: Amazon CE:4693 Thanks for taking a look! Enjoy the Halloween weekend! Zoom for a bigger than usual image.