Captain's log, Fifth Month, Twenty Seventh Day-
I have been recruited by unknown means into some form of lander celebration. I am to understand that the movements displayed underneath the dim light in here is meant to be dancing. All around me alcahol is drunk in an amount that would stagger even Samson and people sway and jerk in a manner consistent with the rythm of the 'music'...Except for the man on the stage, who seems not to care.

Writing this out on her clyuno slumped against a wall was a little awkward, but Lafiel felt she had to get this down.