[Here is Enjolras, lounging in a room that is -- not his, judging by the piles of readers scattered around. He rummages around underneath himself for a moment, finally removing a reader and settling back with a somewhat pleased noise; then turns his attention to the camera, fixing it with an earnest look.]

Bonsoir. Several of you aboard this ship may have become acquainted with my friends and I. At home, we had a group dedicated to talk of politics, law, sometimes culture -- all sorts of things, really. I thought of starting the same sort of thing here. If you would be amenable to it, I am told there will be a party celebrating the recent arrival of one of our friends sometime soon. We might try and implement this group there, it is as good a time as any.

If you wish to come, you may let me know here, or ask for Enjolras, Combeferre, or Courfeyrac. Any one of us can surely answer your questions, if there is interest.

Ladies and gentlemen of the Tranquility, good evening.

[From the video, you can see Albert is seated somewhere in the oxygen gardens, on a wide-open patch of grass. He looks somewhat contemplative.]

I have a-- a somewhat personal question to ask of you all, so don't feel compelled to answer if you don't wish to. [He seems to hesitate, and then he plunges ahead quickly, as if he must ask it before he loses courage.]

How many of you here believed yourselves to have passed away before you woke up in this place?

And-- for those of you who don't want to talk about something quite so morbid, maybe you could tell me what year, or what country, or planet you come from. I'd... really like to hear about other people's homes. As for me-- I'm from Paris, France, the year 5053.

I've also got some tea and plenty of cups to go around here in the garden, if you'd prefer to speak in person. I'd welcome the company, and the chance to meet all of you.

[The video switches on, but, unfortunately, it's not pointing at Combeferre's face but outward to his room. Anyone watching this will get a good view of the edge of his bed and the wall it's up against mostly.]

I am told that I'm connected to the entire ship now?

[Like in the messages he'd gotten on this thing earlier, right? He's tried to learn what he can about the ship and he's been reading the "links" sent via the mass message, but actually using the communication box is obviously harder to figure out than it looks. And the view anyone will get right now is the wall and bed slowly moving, turning nearly sideways as Combeferre is trying to adjust things properly.]


I...suppose this is a good time as any to introduce myself to all of you.

[Unfortunately the view now is mostly Combeferre's hand as he's turning the device around again, shakily, and then his face comes into view. In extremely unflattering close up of one of his spectacle lenses which is probably very...glinty.]

I...feel like a complete fool with this, I'm sorry. Can everyone see me now?

[Well, sort of, Combeferre? They can see a lens and an eyebrow anyway? It's...something. ]

At any rate, because I WILL learn how this device works, properly, I'll simply introduce myself for now, all right?


[And this time, again, the view zooms out a little, shaky but...there's his face anyway. And his spectacles are half dangling off one side of his face by a very loose arm, but his smile is extremely sincere.]

My name is Michel Combeferre and I am told that I have missed a great many things from the time that I left Paris and when I woke here. I was a doctor, or was studying to be, and I would very much like to be of help in that capacity again but I will clearly need a lot of study, and some practice, not to mention more knowledge of this world before I dare attempt helping somebody here.

[And he pauses, and he's rubbing his temple and the hand is blocking the camera again for a moment.]

Is there anyone here who would be willing to take on an apprentice of sorts? I am not sure how I can pay you but I am willing to attempt to try at least, if you would be so good.

And on another note?

[He looks a little embarrassed here, somehow.]

Might someone tell me where I can find headache powders? I've had one that I cannot shake...

[And he realizes he should end this properly, but does he address it as a letter, or a conversation? He's really not sure of the proper forms himself. But he settles for another smile.]

Thank you, and goodbye?

[But he kind of doesn't manage to shut off the camera, though the device is set down on his bed and he can be heard softly talking himself through the process of shutting it off. Sorry for the seasickness, everyone?]

 [Here, fellow passengers of the TQ, is one French revolutionary.  He is not amusing himself with bothering Marius today, instead he is in his own rooms, looking somewhat disgruntled.  ....For him, that's pretty normal, at least.]

A question for you, passengers.  More specifically, those who are skilled in the use of these ...communication devices.  I have heard there is a library one can access on them, but I cannot seem to do so.  Assistance would certainly be appreciated.

If that is not the case, then simply tell me if and where I may find the philosophy books aboard this vessel.  I am of a mind to read some Rousseau.

Merci.

 [It has been some time since he properly arrived.  He has taken the time to get somewhat settled, to find his clothes and try and recover from his last memories of home.  In that time, he has figured out the comms -- at the very least, the voice and video functions, and so there is little fumbling once he flicks on the switch. (He thinks, for a moment, of Combeferre -- he would have loved all this place had to offer.)

The young man looks -- tired, overall, though clean and reasonably clean-shaven.  There is a spark of fire in his eyes, though at the moment it is understandably dampened.  When he finally speaks, it is obvious he is expecting answers, voice curt and given to speaking orders --but he is certainly not a military man and his voice is tinged with a soft French accent.]

Information would be appreciated.  I would care to know if my friends are here.  They would be about my age, no more than ten of them, speaking of Les Amis de l'ABC.  They are called Courfeyrac, perhaps Combeferre or Grantaire.  Does anyone aboard this ship have news of them?