“There’s not much to tell,” Craig started as they walked down the corridor towards the mess hall. “I’m a simple boy,” he smiled, “brought up by simple folks. My parents had believed in the Goodness of the Catholic God,” he said with disdain, “and He had brought us nothing but pain. We were rich once, we lived in Osiris before…” he shook his head, unwilling to share more about their history. “Once we converted to the Divines, everything turned around.” Craig gazed at Sera. “You’re doing good work.” 

He sat at the dining table among a host of different sorts of people. They weren’t the best of society nor were they the worst he had seen. The crew and passengers seemed to be, however, more astute than he would have liked for his purposes, with a tension in the air that he would like to keep himself out of. He made sure to keep himself in check and his stories watertight. 

“[i]Hen hao chi[/i],” he told who he presumed to have been the cook, a scrawny boy that still looked far too tender and privileged for a ship like the Herald. “The [i]xian yu[/i] is done in a way I’ve never tried before. I like it.”

He glanced at the newcomer, Rebecca, an outer-rim girl who had seen the rough side of life, like more of the villagers whose lives had played out similar to his own, and weighed his options between her and Sera; it was the thought of her status as a high priestess that sealed his commitment to his act. “I suppose they’re going to confess their sins to you later on,” he jested to Sera quietly beside him, referring to the dynamic between the two men. “I might,” he added in a whisper.