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Date Posted: 06:11:08 06/28/01 Thu
Author: Senator Decius
Subject: He collapsed into his chair with a sigh........

Decius looked out his window at the main concourse of the Senate building. Assistants, dignitaries and guards went this way and that in various modes, making the concourse a hevaing mass of shape and colour. The view always helped him maintain his perspective, but for some reason today it failed to help Decius at all.

Simply put, he was tired. An old Decepticon, Decius had been reformatted by the Oracle but had, as soon as it was possible, transferred his spark into his old body (which had been found at a Vehicon smelting plant with only minor damage). There were those who hated him for this, he knew - fanatics who decried purely technological life as against the designs of Primus. Decius didn't care. Would Primus force a new way of life on his children? Hardly. However, fanatics rarely listened to reason.

As he headed the health committee, Decius knew all too well what was happening on Cybertron. Cases of mental instability were on the rise. The sizeable chunk of the Transformer population that could not get the hang of transforming a technorganic body were starting to go insane from being stuck in one mode too long. It did not help that the spark transfer process only became possible when the subject was in robot mode. Not since the lamentable Actionmaster programme, the reports stated, had there been so many cases of monostructural physchosis.......his people were Transformers. Take that ability away, and the usually sturdy Cybertronian psyche crumbled shockingly fast.

Decius looked at his computer screen. The other Senators were in the building and going about their business, he knew that much. He had work to do, and shook his head to clear it of his daydreams. There had to be some way of helping these trapped Transformers unlock their robot modes, or at the very least get their sparks into a purely robotic form. Unfortunately, no-one he knew of that was still on-line could accomplish such a task.

Fix the population, then try to raise my people back out of the mud...... he thought, calling his assistant on the comline. Simple as that.

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