[b]Wisdom of War[/b] They are not of the same design, machinery is the shell in which their intelligence cowers after all. There is no honour in which they undertake, for the occasional firefight engagement brings no glory; this bounty is for those of bravery and skill! No matter, it is by their guidance that we triumph over our foes. There is a "talent" in that, one supposes. It does not require strength, agility nor reflex, but a skill it remains as victory is attained through its application. I imagine what it would be like to sit at the edge of battle, dictating a concert of chaos and violence. The picture contains an almost perverse beauty; an armless conductor. One would think such a thing would be shameful, but no, they are held in such high reverence. It is I who is shameful, one who has yet to prove his worth. I am yet to have purpose, he who is still but a pawn, but this will all change. I have no need of high intelligence, for my rank shall be earned through resilience. As the human of light walks towards our crew, I look opportunity in the eyes and see my fate on a knife's edge. A call to arms from the machine, but I am already charging. I wonder how my courage will be rewarded. [i]Stay in formation.[/i] Shall I become a blade, in which stealth is my ally? [i]Stay in formation.[/i] A watchful eye, to pin-point threats before they have time to react? [i]Stay in formation.[/i] One who suppresses with a wall of guided energy? [i]STAY IN FORMATION.[/i] My eyes are bright with wonderment, even as the blade flashes from my enemy's cloak. Glory.