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Chapter 2: A Badly Timed Return
this page added by Bitstream
bitstream@crosswinds.net
Sandstrike entered the auditorium quickly and quietly, hoping to take a seat near the back. Unfortunatly, a great many others had apparently had the same idea and most of the entire rear section had already been filled.
Sandstrike sighed, then headed toward the nearest, most lightly filled area he could find. He had needed to assume an organic "beast" alt-mode, a venomous lizard-like creature, for his last mission and felt rather conspicuous among the almost entirely metallic crowd around him. He hoped to have his more conventional groundspeeder mode restored to him as soon as possible.
Making his way down the row toward the empty seat, he noticed, much to his embarassment, a number of stares some of curiosity, others of disgust. He was sure his organic bits were blushing bright red from his emotional response. He was spared any further wayward looks by the auditorium lights, which dimmed to almost complete darkness aside from the illuminated stage.
"Thank Primus for small happenstances," Sandstrike said to himself. "I hope this conference thing was worth missing the earliest possible appointment for form-reassignment...."
What do you do now?
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