I have nothing but my Cyno and I want nothing more. It has been, it still is, faithful to me.

Why should I begrudge it, since during the hours when my FAX repped the armor of my supercarrier, it was seated there beside me?

O Cyno, I have ended, you see, by respecting you, because I am certain you will never leave me.

Ah! I realize it: your beauty lies in the force of your being. You are like those who never left the sad fireside corner of my poor ratting heart.

O Cyno, you are better than a well-beloved: because I know that on the day of my final podding, you will be there, lying in my escape bay, O Cyno, so that you might once again attempt to jump to my heart.