Status update: back from combat training.
*fires up 'net connection and collapses loose-jointed into the console chair, leaning back, optics dimmed and half-closed in exhausted bliss*
...that... was... heaven.
*long, contented sigh*
Three entire megacycles of calibration and synching runs; and for once, in full-scale altmode with chaos_gunner at my controls. It has been far too long since the last time we did that. I spend too much of my time running on minimal energy reserves, and while I resist complaining, I do not enjoy such enforced limitation. I was starting to forget what it felt like to possess real power.
But today... I feel like myself again. And if all I was asked to do was to blast asteroids into spacedust so that Galvatron could check our synchronisation protocols and my targeting arrays, what of it? To do even that again, to truly stretch my wings and test my skills - that was glorious. There are few greater joys than the pleasure of doing precisely what one is built to do.
And, indeed, doing it well. *radiates satisfaction* Error margins now down to within .00001 percent, accurate enough to meet even Galvatron's exacting standards. And he was not letting me off lightly, I assure you.
*flexes wings a little and winces, not entirely unpleasantly, at the resultant flare of metal-stress aches*
Which should not, of course, be taken as a complaint on my part. It is his right to command me and my privilege to obey. And...
...and, enough of that line of thought in a public journal. *click*
Over and out,
~Cyclonus~
...that... was... heaven.
*long, contented sigh*
Three entire megacycles of calibration and synching runs; and for once, in full-scale altmode with chaos_gunner at my controls. It has been far too long since the last time we did that. I spend too much of my time running on minimal energy reserves, and while I resist complaining, I do not enjoy such enforced limitation. I was starting to forget what it felt like to possess real power.
But today... I feel like myself again. And if all I was asked to do was to blast asteroids into spacedust so that Galvatron could check our synchronisation protocols and my targeting arrays, what of it? To do even that again, to truly stretch my wings and test my skills - that was glorious. There are few greater joys than the pleasure of doing precisely what one is built to do.
And, indeed, doing it well. *radiates satisfaction* Error margins now down to within .00001 percent, accurate enough to meet even Galvatron's exacting standards. And he was not letting me off lightly, I assure you.
*flexes wings a little and winces, not entirely unpleasantly, at the resultant flare of metal-stress aches*
Which should not, of course, be taken as a complaint on my part. It is his right to command me and my privilege to obey. And...
...and, enough of that line of thought in a public journal. *click*
Over and out,
~Cyclonus~