Date Posted:17:01:33 06/27/01 Wed Author: Senator Schism Subject: Senator Schism, 1st seat, Sigma room...
...slammed his feet (rarely used on Vehicons) onto his desk, and thrust his arm out, practicing his cast. He enjoyed the Terran sport of fishing, and wished he could do it every day. A reason why he preferred his abode on Cybertron to the Vehicon Headquarters at Braxis (ice fishing was not his specialty).
I'd rather be fishing. He thought. His arm swung a few more times as his bodyguard (and involuntary psuedo-secretary), Maritime, entered the room. "Have I gotten any messages from Braxis?"
"None." Growled Maritime. The fact that Schism had employed a technorganic was as rare as his legs. The burly soldier made his way behind Schism; the sun's light grazed Maritime's shell.
"Very well, then. When's my appointment with Eulogy?"
"'Noon,' as always." Maritime snapped. Schism didn't mind the anger, but rather was pleased he'd used the Terran term.
"No time for a trip to the lake then, I suppose. Oh well, I'll get a better catch after lunch. Besides, it's rare I get Eulogy out of her constant gloom. Even Earth had people like her...the great philosopher 'What's-His-Name' once said 'damn, those crazy goth chicks are scary as Hell.' A man of true wisdom, eh?"