“Remember the Cant” ignites The Expanse with a spark of rage, a tense chapter where Jim Holden (Steven Strait) mourns—his gun a steady weight, his growl a quiet vow—as the Canterbury’s loss fuels him, his every move a fight for justice, his coffee a lost lifeline. He’s a captain hardened—his eyes glint with grit and grief—while Naomi Nagata (Dominique Tipper) steadies, her mind a steel thread, Amos Burton (Wes Chatham) guards, his fists a rock. Alex Kamal (Cas Anvar) drifts—his drawl a spark—while on Earth, Chrisjen Avasarala (Shohreh Aghdashloo) schemes, her saree a banner of power.

The Belt sprawls in cold, industrial chaos—ships hum in zero-G, blood floats in dim corridors, the air thin with metal and faint anger, a distant hum threading through the silence. Mark Fergus and Hawk Ostby’s score pulses with a tense hum—strings and drones weaving vengeance and mystery into a visceral tapestry, pulling you into a sci-fi epic of grit and grace. It’s The Expanse at its boldest and most gripping—a cry gripping you with unyielding power, leaving you breathless in its starry depths.