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	<id>https://wiki.rpg.net/index.php?action=history&amp;feed=atom&amp;title=Miles_To_Go</id>
	<title>Miles To Go - Revision history</title>
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	<updated>2026-05-15T17:16:49Z</updated>
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	<entry>
		<id>https://wiki.rpg.net/index.php?title=Miles_To_Go&amp;diff=111667&amp;oldid=prev</id>
		<title>Taimdala at 05:52, 18 June 2009</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://wiki.rpg.net/index.php?title=Miles_To_Go&amp;diff=111667&amp;oldid=prev"/>
		<updated>2009-06-18T05:52:48Z</updated>

		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;table style=&quot;background-color: #fff; color: #202122;&quot; data-mw=&quot;interface&quot;&gt;
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				&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; style=&quot;background-color: #fff; color: #202122; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;← Older revision&lt;/td&gt;
				&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; style=&quot;background-color: #fff; color: #202122; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Revision as of 05:52, 18 June 2009&lt;/td&gt;
				&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; class=&quot;diff-lineno&quot; id=&quot;mw-diff-left-l1&quot;&gt;Line 1:&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; class=&quot;diff-lineno&quot;&gt;Line 1:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;−&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #ffe49c; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;The first time I ever realized that &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Harbinger&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt;&#039;s crew was going to be more than a crew to me, I think I&#039;d been there a year. Harry and Shyla had this rapport between them that I&#039;d watched since I came on board, and I&#039;d built my own relationships. But a year is the longest I&#039;d ever flown with anyone by that point, and one night we were sitting in this pub sharing a round of beers when Shyla asked me straight out, &quot;You ever gonna let us in, girl?&quot; I was sort of surprised. Not like I&#039;d been unfriendly ever, but ... you know, when the Black is what sings to your soul, you tend to get a little solitary. I thought I&#039;d been friendly enough, but I guess I wasn&#039;t really &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;friends&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; with anyone. So I took my time, swallowed a mouthful of beer before I answered her. When I asked her what she wanted to know, Harry just smirked -- she knew a gesture of defeat when she saw it. Shyla was pretty straightforward. &quot;Why don&#039;t you start with what&#039;s got you running? And then decide if you want to be part of this crew for good or not. Cuz I think you&#039;re a good fit, and if you let it happen, I think you&#039;re going to find that you already have your niche in this family.&quot;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;+&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #a3d3ff; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ins style=&quot;font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&lt;/ins&gt;The first time I ever realized that &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Harbinger&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt;&#039;s crew was going to be more than a crew to me, I think I&#039;d been there a year. Harry and Shyla had this rapport between them that I&#039;d watched since I came on board, and I&#039;d built my own relationships. But a year is the longest I&#039;d ever flown with anyone by that point, and one night we were sitting in this pub sharing a round of beers when Shyla asked me straight out, &quot;You ever gonna let us in, girl?&quot; I was sort of surprised. Not like I&#039;d been unfriendly ever, but ... you know, when the Black is what sings to your soul, you tend to get a little solitary. I thought I&#039;d been friendly enough, but I guess I wasn&#039;t really &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;friends&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; with anyone. So I took my time, swallowed a mouthful of beer before I answered her. When I asked her what she wanted to know, Harry just smirked -- she knew a gesture of defeat when she saw it. Shyla was pretty straightforward. &quot;Why don&#039;t you start with what&#039;s got you running? And then decide if you want to be part of this crew for good or not. Cuz I think you&#039;re a good fit, and if you let it happen, I think you&#039;re going to find that you already have your niche in this family.&quot;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;−&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #ffe49c; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I told them. Told them about the music I hear in my head when I fly, like my whole life has a musical score. Each of them has a piece of music in my head that fits them, and when we&#039;re all together, it&#039;s a different kind of music. And when we&#039;re in the Black, that&#039;s a different one too. Now, yeah.... I was drunk off my ass by then, waxing all poetic and shit. But... there you have it. I gave them the deepest part of me. And something shifted that night. Shyla and Harry are as much my sisters as Nala. Brian... heh. It&#039;s a rare man out there who&#039;d drop everything to get to you when you say &quot;I need you,&quot; who&#039;d be your sometime-lover and all-the-time best friend for a decade without making an issue of either or expecting you to be someone you&#039;re not, and who&#039;d know that a good barbecue with your family is what you crave when you carve out a small amount of time to be together somewhere.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;+&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #a3d3ff; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ins style=&quot;font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&lt;/ins&gt;So I told them. Told them about the music I hear in my head when I fly, like my whole life has a musical score. Each of them has a piece of music in my head that fits them, and when we&#039;re all together, it&#039;s a different kind of music. And when we&#039;re in the Black, that&#039;s a different one too. Now, yeah.... I was drunk off my ass by then, waxing all poetic and shit. But... there you have it. I gave them the deepest part of me. And something shifted that night. Shyla and Harry are as much my sisters as Nala. Brian... heh. It&#039;s a rare man out there who&#039;d drop everything to get to you when you say &quot;I need you,&quot; who&#039;d be your sometime-lover and all-the-time best friend for a decade without making an issue of either or expecting you to be someone you&#039;re not, and who&#039;d know that a good barbecue with your family is what you crave when you carve out a small amount of time to be together somewhere.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;−&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #ffe49c; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn&#039;t know just how small our time together would be. Would I have gone if I&#039;d known? I&#039;m not sure... I didn&#039;t expect the agonies that my heart is having right now. I hadn&#039;t really wanted to admit to anyone just how much I&#039;d been looking forward to the meet in Deadwood. I don&#039;t think the others on this ship get that even now... even ten years from now... even a lifetime from now... if one of them needs me... Shyla, Harry, Brian..., I will drop &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;everything&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; to go. I will risk everything, leave anyone and anything, if they should ever ask it. And I can&#039;t articulate the hurt in my heart that we got a half an hour together and had to scatter to the solar winds again. My crew... my &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;family&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; is going somewhere I cannot follow right now... and gods know, I want to. I don&#039;t want them out there without me. I left the ship because I needed... something. Something I can&#039;t find words for, even now. A purpose? A way to reconcile the bad that I&#039;ve done in the name of freedom? Shyla called it a soldier&#039;s &#039;weariness&#039;... now who&#039;s waxing poetic? Heh. Clearly whatever it was, I&#039;m getting past it. Because when she told me where she was going, it was all I could do to bite my tongue and not go with. My current crew has .... not an equal pull on me, but I have obligations. And how&#039;s that line go? &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;And miles to go before I sleep...&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;+&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #a3d3ff; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ins style=&quot;font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&lt;/ins&gt;I didn&#039;t know just how small our time together would be. Would I have gone if I&#039;d known? I&#039;m not sure... I didn&#039;t expect the agonies that my heart is having right now. I hadn&#039;t really wanted to admit to anyone just how much I&#039;d been looking forward to the meet in Deadwood. I don&#039;t think the others on this ship get that even now... even ten years from now... even a lifetime from now... if one of them needs me... Shyla, Harry, Brian..., I will drop &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;everything&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; to go. I will risk everything, leave anyone and anything, if they should ever ask it. And I can&#039;t articulate the hurt in my heart that we got a half an hour together and had to scatter to the solar winds again. My crew... my &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;family&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; is going somewhere I cannot follow right now... and gods know, I want to. I don&#039;t want them out there without me. I left the ship because I needed... something. Something I can&#039;t find words for, even now. A purpose? A way to reconcile the bad that I&#039;ve done in the name of freedom? Shyla called it a soldier&#039;s &#039;weariness&#039;... now who&#039;s waxing poetic? Heh. Clearly whatever it was, I&#039;m getting past it. Because when she told me where she was going, it was all I could do to bite my tongue and not go with. My current crew has .... not an equal pull on me, but I have obligations. And how&#039;s that line go? &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;And miles to go before I sleep...&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;−&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #ffe49c; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;Shyla told me when I walked away to come home when I was ready. It&#039;s been almost three years... in all that time, whenever we&#039;ve met up, it&#039;s been easy enough. We&#039;ve spent time and gone our separate ways without any emotional fallout on my part. This one? This wasn&#039;t easy. For the first time, I realized that the months with Rina, Christian, and Arden have somewhat expanded my pool of loyalties. I can&#039;t just walk away from this crew, and Shyla saw it. She asked me if this was the crew I left them for. And now, as I sit here in the cockpit going further and further from the vector &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Harbinger&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; took, I am ... torn. I cannot be in two places at once, and although my obligations keep me here ... the promise that I have made to help Michael Carter, the implicit promises that I have made to Rina and Christian and Arden ... they keep me here. And yet a part of me will always fly with the &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Harbinger&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt;, and that part of me feels that I just betrayed them, letting them fly into Hell without me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;+&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #a3d3ff; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ins style=&quot;font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&lt;/ins&gt;Shyla told me when I walked away to come home when I was ready. It&#039;s been almost three years... in all that time, whenever we&#039;ve met up, it&#039;s been easy enough. We&#039;ve spent time and gone our separate ways without any emotional fallout on my part. This one? This wasn&#039;t easy. For the first time, I realized that the months with Rina, Christian, and Arden have somewhat expanded my pool of loyalties. I can&#039;t just walk away from this crew, and Shyla saw it. She asked me if this was the crew I left them for. And now, as I sit here in the cockpit going further and further from the vector &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Harbinger&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; took, I am ... torn. I cannot be in two places at once, and although my obligations keep me here ... the promise that I have made to help Michael Carter, the implicit promises that I have made to Rina and Christian and Arden ... they keep me here. And yet a part of me will always fly with the &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Harbinger&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt;, and that part of me feels that I just betrayed them, letting them fly into Hell without me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;−&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #ffe49c; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cannot reconcile the split in loyalties. I can&#039;t even figure out how I got so involved with &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Summer&#039;s Gift&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; now. Is this what it is to realize you can never go home again? Somehow, I don&#039;t think it is anything so permanent.... but I cannot shake the dread that I feel in the pit of my stomach.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;+&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #a3d3ff; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ins style=&quot;font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp;&lt;/ins&gt;I cannot reconcile the split in loyalties. I can&#039;t even figure out how I got so involved with &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Summer&#039;s Gift&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; now. Is this what it is to realize you can never go home again? Somehow, I don&#039;t think it is anything so permanent.... but I cannot shake the dread that I feel in the pit of my stomach.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/table&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Taimdala</name></author>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<id>https://wiki.rpg.net/index.php?title=Miles_To_Go&amp;diff=103597&amp;oldid=prev</id>
		<title>Nika at 21:07, 23 February 2009</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://wiki.rpg.net/index.php?title=Miles_To_Go&amp;diff=103597&amp;oldid=prev"/>
		<updated>2009-02-23T21:07:31Z</updated>

		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
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				&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; style=&quot;background-color: #fff; color: #202122; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;← Older revision&lt;/td&gt;
				&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; style=&quot;background-color: #fff; color: #202122; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Revision as of 21:07, 23 February 2009&lt;/td&gt;
				&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; class=&quot;diff-lineno&quot; id=&quot;mw-diff-left-l1&quot;&gt;Line 1:&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; class=&quot;diff-lineno&quot;&gt;Line 1:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;−&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #ffe49c; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;del style=&quot;font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;/del&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; class=&quot;diff-side-added&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;The first time I ever realized that &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Harbinger&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt;&amp;#039;s crew was going to be more than a crew to me, I think I&amp;#039;d been there a year. Harry and Shyla had this rapport between them that I&amp;#039;d watched since I came on board, and I&amp;#039;d built my own relationships. But a year is the longest I&amp;#039;d ever flown with anyone by that point, and one night we were sitting in this pub sharing a round of beers when Shyla asked me straight out, &amp;quot;You ever gonna let us in, girl?&amp;quot; I was sort of surprised. Not like I&amp;#039;d been unfriendly ever, but ... you know, when the Black is what sings to your soul, you tend to get a little solitary. I thought I&amp;#039;d been friendly enough, but I guess I wasn&amp;#039;t really &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;friends&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; with anyone. So I took my time, swallowed a mouthful of beer before I answered her. When I asked her what she wanted to know, Harry just smirked -- she knew a gesture of defeat when she saw it. Shyla was pretty straightforward. &amp;quot;Why don&amp;#039;t you start with what&amp;#039;s got you running? And then decide if you want to be part of this crew for good or not. Cuz I think you&amp;#039;re a good fit, and if you let it happen, I think you&amp;#039;re going to find that you already have your niche in this family.&amp;quot;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;The first time I ever realized that &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Harbinger&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt;&amp;#039;s crew was going to be more than a crew to me, I think I&amp;#039;d been there a year. Harry and Shyla had this rapport between them that I&amp;#039;d watched since I came on board, and I&amp;#039;d built my own relationships. But a year is the longest I&amp;#039;d ever flown with anyone by that point, and one night we were sitting in this pub sharing a round of beers when Shyla asked me straight out, &amp;quot;You ever gonna let us in, girl?&amp;quot; I was sort of surprised. Not like I&amp;#039;d been unfriendly ever, but ... you know, when the Black is what sings to your soul, you tend to get a little solitary. I thought I&amp;#039;d been friendly enough, but I guess I wasn&amp;#039;t really &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;friends&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; with anyone. So I took my time, swallowed a mouthful of beer before I answered her. When I asked her what she wanted to know, Harry just smirked -- she knew a gesture of defeat when she saw it. Shyla was pretty straightforward. &amp;quot;Why don&amp;#039;t you start with what&amp;#039;s got you running? And then decide if you want to be part of this crew for good or not. Cuz I think you&amp;#039;re a good fit, and if you let it happen, I think you&amp;#039;re going to find that you already have your niche in this family.&amp;quot;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;−&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #ffe49c; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I told them&lt;del style=&quot;font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;. Told them about my bastard of a brother-in-law, told them about what happened... that I&#039;d been cleared of charges and all but couldn&#039;t face my sister easily&lt;/del&gt;. Told them about the music I hear in my head when I fly, like my whole life has a musical score. Each of them has a piece of music in my head that fits them, and when we&#039;re all together, it&#039;s a different kind of music. And when we&#039;re in the Black, that&#039;s a different one too. Now, yeah.... I was drunk off my ass by then, waxing all poetic and shit. But... there you have it. I gave them the deepest part of me. And something shifted that night. Shyla and Harry are as much my sisters as Nala. Brian... heh. It&#039;s a rare man out there who&#039;d drop everything to get to you when you say &quot;I need you,&quot; who&#039;d be your sometime-lover and all-the-time best friend for a decade without making an issue of either or expecting you to be someone you&#039;re not, and who&#039;d know that a good barbecue with your family is what you crave when you carve out a small amount of time to be together somewhere.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;+&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #a3d3ff; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I told them. Told them about the music I hear in my head when I fly, like my whole life has a musical score. Each of them has a piece of music in my head that fits them, and when we&#039;re all together, it&#039;s a different kind of music. And when we&#039;re in the Black, that&#039;s a different one too. Now, yeah.... I was drunk off my ass by then, waxing all poetic and shit. But... there you have it. I gave them the deepest part of me. And something shifted that night. Shyla and Harry are as much my sisters as Nala. Brian... heh. It&#039;s a rare man out there who&#039;d drop everything to get to you when you say &quot;I need you,&quot; who&#039;d be your sometime-lover and all-the-time best friend for a decade without making an issue of either or expecting you to be someone you&#039;re not, and who&#039;d know that a good barbecue with your family is what you crave when you carve out a small amount of time to be together somewhere.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn&amp;#039;t know just how small our time together would be. Would I have gone if I&amp;#039;d known? I&amp;#039;m not sure... I didn&amp;#039;t expect the agonies that my heart is having right now. I hadn&amp;#039;t really wanted to admit to anyone just how much I&amp;#039;d been looking forward to the meet in Deadwood. I don&amp;#039;t think the others on this ship get that even now... even ten years from now... even a lifetime from now... if one of them needs me... Shyla, Harry, Brian..., I will drop &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;everything&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; to go. I will risk everything, leave anyone and anything, if they should ever ask it. And I can&amp;#039;t articulate the hurt in my heart that we got a half an hour together and had to scatter to the solar winds again. My crew... my &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;family&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; is going somewhere I cannot follow right now... and gods know, I want to. I don&amp;#039;t want them out there without me. I left the ship because I needed... something. Something I can&amp;#039;t find words for, even now. A purpose? A way to reconcile the bad that I&amp;#039;ve done in the name of freedom? Shyla called it a soldier&amp;#039;s &amp;#039;weariness&amp;#039;... now who&amp;#039;s waxing poetic? Heh. Clearly whatever it was, I&amp;#039;m getting past it. Because when she told me where she was going, it was all I could do to bite my tongue and not go with. My current crew has .... not an equal pull on me, but I have obligations. And how&amp;#039;s that line go? &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;And miles to go before I sleep...&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn&amp;#039;t know just how small our time together would be. Would I have gone if I&amp;#039;d known? I&amp;#039;m not sure... I didn&amp;#039;t expect the agonies that my heart is having right now. I hadn&amp;#039;t really wanted to admit to anyone just how much I&amp;#039;d been looking forward to the meet in Deadwood. I don&amp;#039;t think the others on this ship get that even now... even ten years from now... even a lifetime from now... if one of them needs me... Shyla, Harry, Brian..., I will drop &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;everything&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; to go. I will risk everything, leave anyone and anything, if they should ever ask it. And I can&amp;#039;t articulate the hurt in my heart that we got a half an hour together and had to scatter to the solar winds again. My crew... my &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;family&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; is going somewhere I cannot follow right now... and gods know, I want to. I don&amp;#039;t want them out there without me. I left the ship because I needed... something. Something I can&amp;#039;t find words for, even now. A purpose? A way to reconcile the bad that I&amp;#039;ve done in the name of freedom? Shyla called it a soldier&amp;#039;s &amp;#039;weariness&amp;#039;... now who&amp;#039;s waxing poetic? Heh. Clearly whatever it was, I&amp;#039;m getting past it. Because when she told me where she was going, it was all I could do to bite my tongue and not go with. My current crew has .... not an equal pull on me, but I have obligations. And how&amp;#039;s that line go? &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;And miles to go before I sleep...&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/table&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Nika</name></author>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<id>https://wiki.rpg.net/index.php?title=Miles_To_Go&amp;diff=102851&amp;oldid=prev</id>
		<title>Nika at 22:27, 14 February 2009</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://wiki.rpg.net/index.php?title=Miles_To_Go&amp;diff=102851&amp;oldid=prev"/>
		<updated>2009-02-14T22:27:39Z</updated>

		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;table style=&quot;background-color: #fff; color: #202122;&quot; data-mw=&quot;interface&quot;&gt;
				&lt;col class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; /&gt;
				&lt;col class=&quot;diff-content&quot; /&gt;
				&lt;col class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; /&gt;
				&lt;col class=&quot;diff-content&quot; /&gt;
				&lt;tr class=&quot;diff-title&quot; lang=&quot;en&quot;&gt;
				&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; style=&quot;background-color: #fff; color: #202122; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;← Older revision&lt;/td&gt;
				&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; style=&quot;background-color: #fff; color: #202122; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Revision as of 22:27, 14 February 2009&lt;/td&gt;
				&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; class=&quot;diff-lineno&quot; id=&quot;mw-diff-left-l1&quot;&gt;Line 1:&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; class=&quot;diff-lineno&quot;&gt;Line 1:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;−&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #ffe49c; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;del style=&quot;font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;/del&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; class=&quot;diff-side-added&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;The first time I ever realized that &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Harbinger&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt;&amp;#039;s crew was going to be more than a crew to me, I think I&amp;#039;d been there a year. Harry and Shyla had this rapport between them that I&amp;#039;d watched since I came on board, and I&amp;#039;d built my own relationships. But a year is the longest I&amp;#039;d ever flown with anyone by that point, and one night we were sitting in this pub sharing a round of beers when Shyla asked me straight out, &amp;quot;You ever gonna let us in, girl?&amp;quot; I was sort of surprised. Not like I&amp;#039;d been unfriendly ever, but ... you know, when the Black is what sings to your soul, you tend to get a little solitary. I thought I&amp;#039;d been friendly enough, but I guess I wasn&amp;#039;t really &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;friends&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; with anyone. So I took my time, swallowed a mouthful of beer before I answered her. When I asked her what she wanted to know, Harry just smirked -- she knew a gesture of defeat when she saw it. Shyla was pretty straightforward. &amp;quot;Why don&amp;#039;t you start with what&amp;#039;s got you running? And then decide if you want to be part of this crew for good or not. Cuz I think you&amp;#039;re a good fit, and if you let it happen, I think you&amp;#039;re going to find that you already have your niche in this family.&amp;quot;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;The first time I ever realized that &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Harbinger&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt;&amp;#039;s crew was going to be more than a crew to me, I think I&amp;#039;d been there a year. Harry and Shyla had this rapport between them that I&amp;#039;d watched since I came on board, and I&amp;#039;d built my own relationships. But a year is the longest I&amp;#039;d ever flown with anyone by that point, and one night we were sitting in this pub sharing a round of beers when Shyla asked me straight out, &amp;quot;You ever gonna let us in, girl?&amp;quot; I was sort of surprised. Not like I&amp;#039;d been unfriendly ever, but ... you know, when the Black is what sings to your soul, you tend to get a little solitary. I thought I&amp;#039;d been friendly enough, but I guess I wasn&amp;#039;t really &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;friends&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; with anyone. So I took my time, swallowed a mouthful of beer before I answered her. When I asked her what she wanted to know, Harry just smirked -- she knew a gesture of defeat when she saw it. Shyla was pretty straightforward. &amp;quot;Why don&amp;#039;t you start with what&amp;#039;s got you running? And then decide if you want to be part of this crew for good or not. Cuz I think you&amp;#039;re a good fit, and if you let it happen, I think you&amp;#039;re going to find that you already have your niche in this family.&amp;quot;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; class=&quot;diff-lineno&quot; id=&quot;mw-diff-left-l9&quot;&gt;Line 9:&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; class=&quot;diff-lineno&quot;&gt;Line 8:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;Shyla told me when I walked away to come home when I was ready. It&amp;#039;s been almost three years... in all that time, whenever we&amp;#039;ve met up, it&amp;#039;s been easy enough. We&amp;#039;ve spent time and gone our separate ways without any emotional fallout on my part. This one? This wasn&amp;#039;t easy. For the first time, I realized that the months with Rina, Christian, and Arden have somewhat expanded my pool of loyalties. I can&amp;#039;t just walk away from this crew, and Shyla saw it. She asked me if this was the crew I left them for. And now, as I sit here in the cockpit going further and further from the vector &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Harbinger&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; took, I am ... torn. I cannot be in two places at once, and although my obligations keep me here ... the promise that I have made to help Michael Carter, the implicit promises that I have made to Rina and Christian and Arden ... they keep me here. And yet a part of me will always fly with the &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Harbinger&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt;, and that part of me feels that I just betrayed them, letting them fly into Hell without me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;Shyla told me when I walked away to come home when I was ready. It&amp;#039;s been almost three years... in all that time, whenever we&amp;#039;ve met up, it&amp;#039;s been easy enough. We&amp;#039;ve spent time and gone our separate ways without any emotional fallout on my part. This one? This wasn&amp;#039;t easy. For the first time, I realized that the months with Rina, Christian, and Arden have somewhat expanded my pool of loyalties. I can&amp;#039;t just walk away from this crew, and Shyla saw it. She asked me if this was the crew I left them for. And now, as I sit here in the cockpit going further and further from the vector &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Harbinger&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; took, I am ... torn. I cannot be in two places at once, and although my obligations keep me here ... the promise that I have made to help Michael Carter, the implicit promises that I have made to Rina and Christian and Arden ... they keep me here. And yet a part of me will always fly with the &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Harbinger&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt;, and that part of me feels that I just betrayed them, letting them fly into Hell without me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;−&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #ffe49c; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cannot reconcile the split in loyalties. I can&#039;t even figure out how I got so involved with &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Summer&#039;s Gift&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; now. Is this what it is to realize you can never go home again? Somehow, I don&#039;t think it is anything so permanent.... but that &lt;del style=&quot;font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;doesn&#039;t stop me from worrying about them, nor does it stop &lt;/del&gt;my &lt;del style=&quot;font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;heart from aching&lt;/del&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;+&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #a3d3ff; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cannot reconcile the split in loyalties. I can&#039;t even figure out how I got so involved with &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Summer&#039;s Gift&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; now. Is this what it is to realize you can never go home again? Somehow, I don&#039;t think it is anything so permanent.... but &lt;ins style=&quot;font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;I cannot shake the dread &lt;/ins&gt;that &lt;ins style=&quot;font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;I feel in the pit of &lt;/ins&gt;my &lt;ins style=&quot;font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;stomach&lt;/ins&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/table&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Nika</name></author>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<id>https://wiki.rpg.net/index.php?title=Miles_To_Go&amp;diff=102849&amp;oldid=prev</id>
		<title>Nika: Old Home Week moved to Miles To Go</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://wiki.rpg.net/index.php?title=Miles_To_Go&amp;diff=102849&amp;oldid=prev"/>
		<updated>2009-02-14T22:25:44Z</updated>

		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;/index.php/Old_Home_Week&quot; class=&quot;mw-redirect&quot; title=&quot;Old Home Week&quot;&gt;Old Home Week&lt;/a&gt; moved to &lt;a href=&quot;/index.php/Miles_To_Go&quot; title=&quot;Miles To Go&quot;&gt;Miles To Go&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;table style=&quot;background-color: #fff; color: #202122;&quot; data-mw=&quot;interface&quot;&gt;
				&lt;tr class=&quot;diff-title&quot; lang=&quot;en&quot;&gt;
				&lt;td colspan=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;background-color: #fff; color: #202122; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;← Older revision&lt;/td&gt;
				&lt;td colspan=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;background-color: #fff; color: #202122; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Revision as of 22:25, 14 February 2009&lt;/td&gt;
				&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; class=&quot;diff-notice&quot; lang=&quot;en&quot;&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;mw-diff-empty&quot;&gt;(No difference)&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Nika</name></author>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<id>https://wiki.rpg.net/index.php?title=Miles_To_Go&amp;diff=102848&amp;oldid=prev</id>
		<title>Nika at 22:25, 14 February 2009</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://wiki.rpg.net/index.php?title=Miles_To_Go&amp;diff=102848&amp;oldid=prev"/>
		<updated>2009-02-14T22:25:16Z</updated>

		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;table style=&quot;background-color: #fff; color: #202122;&quot; data-mw=&quot;interface&quot;&gt;
				&lt;col class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; /&gt;
				&lt;col class=&quot;diff-content&quot; /&gt;
				&lt;col class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; /&gt;
				&lt;col class=&quot;diff-content&quot; /&gt;
				&lt;tr class=&quot;diff-title&quot; lang=&quot;en&quot;&gt;
				&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; style=&quot;background-color: #fff; color: #202122; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;← Older revision&lt;/td&gt;
				&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; style=&quot;background-color: #fff; color: #202122; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Revision as of 22:25, 14 February 2009&lt;/td&gt;
				&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; class=&quot;diff-lineno&quot; id=&quot;mw-diff-left-l1&quot;&gt;Line 1:&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; class=&quot;diff-lineno&quot;&gt;Line 1:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;−&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #ffe49c; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;del style=&quot;font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;Old Home Week..... or not.&lt;/del&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; class=&quot;diff-side-added&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;−&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #ffe49c; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;del style=&quot;font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;I didn&#039;t really want to admit to anyone just how much I&#039;d been looking forward to the meet in Deadwood. I don&#039;t think they get that even now... even ten years from now... even a lifetime from now... if one of them needs me, I will drop everything to go. &lt;/del&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; class=&quot;diff-side-added&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;−&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #ffe49c; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;The first time I ever realized that &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Harbinger&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt;&#039;s crew was going to be more than a crew to me, I think I&#039;d been there a year. Harry and Shyla had this rapport between them that I&#039;d watched since I came on board, and I&#039;d built my own relationships. But a year is the longest I&#039;d ever flown with anyone by that point, and one night we were sitting in this pub sharing a round of beers when Shyla asked me straight out, &quot;You ever gonna let us in, girl?&quot; I was sort of surprised. Not like I&#039;d been unfriendly ever, but ... you know, when the Black is what sings to your soul, you tend to get a little solitary. I thought I&#039;d been friendly enough, but I guess I wasn&#039;t really &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;friends&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; with anyone. So I took my time, swallowed a mouthful of beer before I answered her. When I asked her what she wanted to know, Harry just smirked. Shyla was pretty straightforward. &quot;Why don&#039;t you start with what&#039;s got you running? And then decide if you want to be part of this crew for good or not. Cuz I think you&#039;re a good fit, and if you let it happen, I think you&#039;re going to find that you already have your niche in this family.&quot;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;+&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #a3d3ff; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;The first time I ever realized that &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Harbinger&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt;&#039;s crew was going to be more than a crew to me, I think I&#039;d been there a year. Harry and Shyla had this rapport between them that I&#039;d watched since I came on board, and I&#039;d built my own relationships. But a year is the longest I&#039;d ever flown with anyone by that point, and one night we were sitting in this pub sharing a round of beers when Shyla asked me straight out, &quot;You ever gonna let us in, girl?&quot; I was sort of surprised. Not like I&#039;d been unfriendly ever, but ... you know, when the Black is what sings to your soul, you tend to get a little solitary. I thought I&#039;d been friendly enough, but I guess I wasn&#039;t really &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;friends&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; with anyone. So I took my time, swallowed a mouthful of beer before I answered her. When I asked her what she wanted to know, Harry just smirked &lt;ins style=&quot;font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;-- she knew a gesture of defeat when she saw it&lt;/ins&gt;. Shyla was pretty straightforward. &quot;Why don&#039;t you start with what&#039;s got you running? And then decide if you want to be part of this crew for good or not. Cuz I think you&#039;re a good fit, and if you let it happen, I think you&#039;re going to find that you already have your niche in this family.&quot;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #eaecf0; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;−&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #ffe49c; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I told them. Told them about my bastard of a brother-in-law, told them about what happened... that I&#039;d been cleared of charges and all but couldn&#039;t face my sister easily. Told them about the music I hear in my head when I fly, like my whole life has a musical score. Each of them has a piece of music in my head that fits them, and when we&#039;re all together, it&#039;s a different kind of music. And when we&#039;re in the Black, that&#039;s a different one too. Now, yeah.... I was drunk off my ass by then, waxing all poetic and shit. But... there you have it. I gave them the deepest part of me. And something shifted that night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;+&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #a3d3ff; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I told them. Told them about my bastard of a brother-in-law, told them about what happened... that I&#039;d been cleared of charges and all but couldn&#039;t face my sister easily. Told them about the music I hear in my head when I fly, like my whole life has a musical score. Each of them has a piece of music in my head that fits them, and when we&#039;re all together, it&#039;s a different kind of music. And when we&#039;re in the Black, that&#039;s a different one too. Now, yeah.... I was drunk off my ass by then, waxing all poetic and shit. But... there you have it. I gave them the deepest part of me. And something shifted that night&lt;ins style=&quot;font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;. Shyla and Harry are as much my sisters as Nala. Brian... heh. It&#039;s a rare man out there who&#039;d drop everything to get to you when you say &quot;I need you,&quot; who&#039;d be your sometime-lover and all-the-time best friend for a decade without making an issue of either or expecting you to be someone you&#039;re not, and who&#039;d know that a good barbecue with your family is what you crave when you carve out a small amount of time to be together somewhere.&lt;/ins&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; class=&quot;diff-side-deleted&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;+&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #a3d3ff; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; class=&quot;diff-side-deleted&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;+&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #a3d3ff; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ins style=&quot;font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;I didn&#039;t know just how small our time together would be. Would I have gone if I&#039;d known? I&#039;m not sure... I didn&#039;t expect the agonies that my heart is having right now. I hadn&#039;t really wanted to admit to anyone just how much I&#039;d been looking forward to the meet in Deadwood. I don&#039;t think the others on this ship get that even now... even ten years from now... even a lifetime from now... if one of them needs me... Shyla, Harry, Brian..., I will drop &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;everything&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; to go. I will risk everything, leave anyone and anything, if they should ever ask it. And I can&#039;t articulate the hurt in my heart that we got a half an hour together and had to scatter to the solar winds again. My crew... my &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;family&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; is going somewhere I cannot follow right now... and gods know, I want to. I don&#039;t want them out there without me. I left the ship because I needed... something. Something I can&#039;t find words for, even now. A purpose? A way to reconcile the bad that I&#039;ve done in the name of freedom? Shyla called it a soldier&#039;s &#039;weariness&#039;... now who&#039;s waxing poetic? Heh. Clearly whatever it was, I&#039;m getting past it. Because when she told me where she was going, it was all I could do to bite my tongue and not go with. My current crew has .... not an equal pull on me, but I have obligations. And how&#039;s that line go? &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;And miles to go before I sleep...&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt;&lt;/ins&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; class=&quot;diff-side-deleted&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;+&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #a3d3ff; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; class=&quot;diff-side-deleted&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;+&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #a3d3ff; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ins style=&quot;font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;Shyla told me when I walked away to come home when I was ready. It&#039;s been almost three years... in all that time, whenever we&#039;ve met up, it&#039;s been easy enough. We&#039;ve spent time and gone our separate ways without any emotional fallout on my part. This one? This wasn&#039;t easy. For the first time, I realized that the months with Rina, Christian, and Arden have somewhat expanded my pool of loyalties. I can&#039;t just walk away from this crew, and Shyla saw it. She asked me if this was the crew I left them for. And now, as I sit here in the cockpit going further and further from the vector &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Harbinger&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; took, I am ... torn. I cannot be in two places at once, and although my obligations keep me here ... the promise that I have made to help Michael Carter, the implicit promises that I have made to Rina and Christian and Arden ... they keep me here. And yet a part of me will always fly with the &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Harbinger&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt;, and that part of me feels that I just betrayed them, letting them fly into Hell without me.&lt;/ins&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; class=&quot;diff-side-deleted&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;+&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #a3d3ff; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; class=&quot;diff-side-deleted&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;diff-marker&quot; data-marker=&quot;+&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #a3d3ff; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ins style=&quot;font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;I cannot reconcile the split in loyalties. I can&#039;t even figure out how I got so involved with &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Summer&#039;s Gift&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; now. Is this what it is to realize you can never go home again? Somehow, I don&#039;t think it is anything so permanent.... but that doesn&#039;t stop me from worrying about them, nor does it stop my heart from aching&lt;/ins&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/table&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Nika</name></author>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<id>https://wiki.rpg.net/index.php?title=Miles_To_Go&amp;diff=102847&amp;oldid=prev</id>
		<title>Nika at 21:56, 14 February 2009</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://wiki.rpg.net/index.php?title=Miles_To_Go&amp;diff=102847&amp;oldid=prev"/>
		<updated>2009-02-14T21:56:20Z</updated>

		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;New page&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;Old Home Week..... or not.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I didn&amp;#039;t really want to admit to anyone just how much I&amp;#039;d been looking forward to the meet in Deadwood. I don&amp;#039;t think they get that even now... even ten years from now... even a lifetime from now... if one of them needs me, I will drop everything to go. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The first time I ever realized that &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;Harbinger&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt;&amp;#039;s crew was going to be more than a crew to me, I think I&amp;#039;d been there a year. Harry and Shyla had this rapport between them that I&amp;#039;d watched since I came on board, and I&amp;#039;d built my own relationships. But a year is the longest I&amp;#039;d ever flown with anyone by that point, and one night we were sitting in this pub sharing a round of beers when Shyla asked me straight out, &amp;quot;You ever gonna let us in, girl?&amp;quot; I was sort of surprised. Not like I&amp;#039;d been unfriendly ever, but ... you know, when the Black is what sings to your soul, you tend to get a little solitary. I thought I&amp;#039;d been friendly enough, but I guess I wasn&amp;#039;t really &amp;lt;i&amp;gt;friends&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; with anyone. So I took my time, swallowed a mouthful of beer before I answered her. When I asked her what she wanted to know, Harry just smirked. Shyla was pretty straightforward. &amp;quot;Why don&amp;#039;t you start with what&amp;#039;s got you running? And then decide if you want to be part of this crew for good or not. Cuz I think you&amp;#039;re a good fit, and if you let it happen, I think you&amp;#039;re going to find that you already have your niche in this family.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I told them. Told them about my bastard of a brother-in-law, told them about what happened... that I&amp;#039;d been cleared of charges and all but couldn&amp;#039;t face my sister easily. Told them about the music I hear in my head when I fly, like my whole life has a musical score. Each of them has a piece of music in my head that fits them, and when we&amp;#039;re all together, it&amp;#039;s a different kind of music. And when we&amp;#039;re in the Black, that&amp;#039;s a different one too. Now, yeah.... I was drunk off my ass by then, waxing all poetic and shit. But... there you have it. I gave them the deepest part of me. And something shifted that night.&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Nika</name></author>
	</entry>
</feed>