If I never step on a boat again after this trip is over, it will be too soon.
How many are left from this time last year? If this attrition keeps up, there won't even be anyone left who remembers Lucy Sanne. Good times.
All you soft, wide-eyed newcomers - if no one's told you yet, your home worlds - dimensions, etcetera - are gone. You'll
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Oh, isn't it?
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[She needed to regather herself, so she turns off the communicator.]
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