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Date Posted: 10:17:12 01/01/02 Tue
Author: Lady Embyr
Subject: "Forgive you, Lye-Onitron?"
In reply to: Lord Lye-Onitron 's message, "Fellow Senators..." on 08:51:52 01/01/02 Tue

A hush came over the room as the massive door slid open. Lady Embyr surveyed the room carefully as her hoverchair moved slowly forward, noting Decius would not be far behind. Though she sat she did not slump, and though various scars from battle and an old scraplet infection were still visible on her weathered frame, she carried herself as proudly as the warrior she was in youth. Her luster may have dulled, but her spirit shone brighter than ever.

As she moved around the table, she noted the figures present. Lye-Onitron. Lord Moloch. Lord Schism. And Betacron, the one who had summoned them all in the first place, for some unconfirmed astrological phenomenon. But there were five present, and she realized that, as audacious as any of them could be, the Maximal senator would always play the game by his own rules. She paused now, concealing a gasp of indignation as she came upon her destroyed chair. She noted the precision with which it had been quartered, and the gouge marks in the floor. Such an act of vandalism was unheard of, and she hated the idea that one of the senators might have sunk to such a clearly racially motivated act. But then, she was not the only Decepticon, and only her chair had been destroyed. To her credit, she maintained the same placid and honorable demeanor the others had come to expect from her; she would not show the emotions welling up within her. Cybertron had come so far and still some things never changed. Once more she longed for the days of old, when an opponent fired at you on a battlefield and cowardice was a term reserved solely for the purpose of insulting a foe. If there was peace on Cybertron it was clearly a clever ruse, and the war was still fought on a subtle and shameful level. She would find which agent did this thing, certain it had been an assistant since no Senator would dirty his or her own hands with such a base act, and she would deal with it. But in time. There were weightier issues at hand than an act of hate, painful though it might be.

"Someone has done this old lady a favor," she quipped, having to acknowledge what was before her somehow even if minimizing it thusly burned at her spark, "We're all rather busy with pressing matters and I doubt the time it would have taken me to get from my hoverchair to my council seat is time any of us could have spared."

There were some snickers about the room, and Embyr was careful to note who had laughed and who had not. Good. That told her a great many things about those she dealt with. She knew now who respected her as well as who could see through any facade she might present. It was no surprise that Lye-Onitron was one of the ones who fell into both categories, and so she chose now to address the allegations overheard as she and Decius were arriving.

"You ask forgiveness in the same breath that you leap to accuse my kind, Lye-Onitron? You who flaunt protocol and allow your assass--assistant Kit to attend where most would serve better elsewhere? I certainly would not bring Formulak here even if it could accomodate him!"

This elicted a few more snickers, mostly from Schism. Formulak was a refitted old barge, a ship Embyr had scoured the cosmos in, and one as aged as she. The sentient program within was the closest thing she had to an assistant. She waited for the room to fall silent before speaking once more.

"But then, you freely make accusations of the Predacons as well, though Hegemon is not yet here, and though Betacron is the very one who has summoned us this day. Counterproductivity ill suits you, Senator. Even if your reports of this faction attacking Bastion are accurate, who are you to presume the motivations of my people? Maximals, Autobots, Vehicons, Predacons, Decepticons--will there not always be unrest to some degree? Won't there always be a select few unhappy with the new regime, longing for...longing for the ways of old?

No, such assumption and base accusation is unforgivable Senator Onitron, for it starkly opposes the very purpose of this ruling body. We are more mature I hope than that. We have a peace, a common bond as Cybertronians, that our existence should and must maintain! Look to others for example! Look to Betacron, who puts aside any differences we might have to face whatever might be a common threat to us all! That is the example toward which we should all aspire. For your words, your pretty words laced with venom, do not mirror Betacron's maturity. They hint at something lower, at the verbal equivalent of whatever miscreant committed this act of petty vandalism upon my seat.

Forgive my anger, but I cannot sit idly by while my people are attacked. If the force at Bastion is confirmed to be Decepticons, and I say if, they will and should be dealt with as any other criminal. But say rather they are criminal within our common society as Transformers; do not give in to the temptation of old to simply ascribe deed to faction. 'Heroic' Autobots. 'Evil' Decepticons. Once we rise above that concept, only then can we have a truly unified Cybertron."

Embyr lowered her chair to the ground now and, though she would not let the others see, was well-exhausted by such a speech. Even as she allowed the others time for their input, she silently cursed herself. She recalled her response to an earlier tip from Lye-Onitron. Clearly he played a clever game, within which she may have moved as he anticipated. While she truly had no real ties to the AOD, if her old friend there did decrypt the message she had passed along, any response on the AOD's part could potentially make the Decepticon's position worse. She only hoped the beauracracy at that organization moved as slow as the senate's, and vowed to be on her guard the next time Lye-Onitron sent her a tip. With that one it wasn't the lines between the lines one had to worry about. In his arrogance, he was direct, but even then one had to be cautious of the context...

"A team effort is a lot of people doing what I say."
-Michael Winner, British film director

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