(ooc: Yeah.. I was talking with some paramedics/firefighters about how the rescuers were not invited to the memorial of 9/11 since there 'wasn't any room due to the vast number of politicians coming' yesterday.. Bs, I tell ya, that the people working to save lives during 9/11 were not invited.. And woke up this morning with a severe case of writer's itch and totally forgot what day it was.
But since this post is not relevant to anyone else's character, I think I'm just going to type it up and post it now anyway.)
Nemesis looked up at the ceiling with a blank stare on her face. The thoughts rushing through her mind were quite overwhelming at this point. It felt as if she'd been stuck in this hellhole for days already, yet the truth was that it was probably more likely only a few hours. She had no way of telling without even a window to the outside.
Were the Maximals going to leave her there to rot? Or were they currently planning how they would arrange for her execution?
Neither option would surprise her in the least. The former Decepticon was well aware that the Maximals were less than fond of her after all the things she had done to them. She wasn't expecting a trial, given the fact a trial had the potential of leading to a verdict of 'innocent'. So a trial would merely be wasting everyone's time and resources, seeing there was no doubt she had committed the crimes she stood accused of. At least among the Decepticons, and she assued Predacons as well, trials were rarely used. If someone had done something to upset the stability of the group, they would simply be put in front of a firing squad. Fast and simple solution to any problem. Nemesis wondered if the Maximals would do something similar. A firing squad just seemed unlikely given they knew of her healing capabilities. So they were probably going to have something even worse planned by the time they came for her,
if they ever did.
The female let her right hand rest on top of her left wrist, subconsciously wanting to hide the truth. Even now. Underneath her hand was the still visible inscription they had made in her armor. The inscription may have faded a little bit over the years, but the number '1047' was still visible. It was where they had branded her to distinguish her from the rest. Her ‘slave number’ so to speak.. or perhaps ‘subject number’ would be a more accurate description. It was the one physical scar she had on her body that would never heal, since it had been there since before they had managed to successfully implement the nanotechnology into her circuits and as such was recognized as part of her body frame by the nanobots within her. Nemesis hated her mark of shame so much she had attempted to cut her own arm off in the past. The pain had been unbearable but for a brief moment she had thought she was free of her last remaining physical remnant from her past. It didn't last long. The nanobots within had immediately reconstructed the missing portion of the arm to the exact specifications coded into them. Every finger, every contour of the hand, and that number she hated above anything else.
Perhaps in death she would finally be set free..
Nemesis did not especially fear the prospect of dying, nor did she welcome the idea either. If anything she feared being incarcerated for eternity a lot more. She had come close to dying before on a few occasions, the last time being that battle in space that had resulted in her arriving on this planet. But that had not been the first time she should have died..
----
The young female's eyes flickered on for a brief moment. She was surrounded by scientists but none of them appeared to notice she was awake. They appeared busy with hooking up the equipment for another transfusion. Having experienced several transfusions before, the female knew all too well just how bad the pain could get. The transfusions contained two parts; one being the actual nanotechnology they were attempting to implement, and the other was a mixture of compounds designed to make the host environment more friendly to the nanobots. Unfortunately for the host, however, the technology was not compatible with a transformer's circuitry. As a result the nanotechnology would die off before ever getting a chance to grow and multiply in their new host, and in most cases the host would end up having seizures and after a certain amount or type of compound had accumulated, they would die.
Yet the scientists refused to give up, merely changing their rate of infusion and mixing up the ingredients making up the compound. Why they were so determined to succeed, #1047 did not know.. She had spent most of her young life in this place, never having seen much of the outside world. What she did know, however, was that they were trying to create a new breed of transformers. Many of her species had gone with a technology they referred to as 'protoform' technology, which included a (usually) smaller frame thus conserving energy that way, that during transport to new locations had been stripped of their physical attributes so that they could receive a new form altogether to better blend in with the wildlife of whatever world they went to.
This process had already started when Nemesis was first brought online, and had rapidly grown in popularity and was thought of as the best solution for a planet depleted of energon. Nemesis, however, had been created as part of a last ditch effort by a group of renegade Decepticons who refused to convert to the protoform technology. Instead they searched for alternative methods, performing experiments on those willing (or desperate enough) to sign up. And in some cases they would use captured enemies as test subjects.
#1047 felt herself tense up as the infusion process began. She had heard the scientists talk amongst themselves about adding an additional component to the mixture to see if it would make any difference in the outcome. Judging by their tone, it did not sound like they expected the results to differ any, having performed these experiments on so many others before her without success. While her optics dimmed, she watched as the content of the IV bags shrunk as more and more was infused into her. She felt a burning sensation, but not much else. The scientists watched her with only semi-interest.
Then the tremors began.
Within moments the biggest seizure she had experienced thus far occured. She twitched on the table, tearing at her restraints. The pain just kept intensifying beyond anything she could possibly have imagined. #1047 screamed, then whimpered, then.. silence.. Her body growing limp in an instant.
They examined her lifeless form, looking between themselves.
"Enter the time of death in the logs," the chief medical officer proclaimed, not visibly disturbed by what had just happened at all. He had seen similar deaths many times before. Sadly the nanobots could not be extracted since they always perished with the host. Subject 1047 was now no more than garbage to him and his priority was to continue experimenting with the next subject.
“She is still alive,” the lab tech assistant reported as they were preparing the ‘body’ for disposal. The scientist turned towards him with a surprised facial expression, not having expected anyone to survive such brutality without a functioning repair system implemented. Thus far their prize experiment had eluded them, costing them hundreds of hours of labor and the lives of most of their test subjects.
“Is that so?,” the scientist responded.
“Very well then. Have this one repaired. We shall resume our work once she has recovered.”
))
But I'll make a quick post while I have the chance since we also got some things going on here.))