Ep. 1 - Online, Off the Grid - (Closed)

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Well, just give me a gold star, she dully thought. She wasn't trying to impress him. But she did want to keep him from getting too comfortable with her. The unknown meant a tiny amount of fear she could use to her gain. Which, ironically, was exactly what was working in their favor.

"I'm more of a soldier than any of you will ever be. While you weren't even a concept, I was training for war. And if I get out of here, I'll still be a soldier. And you, with your limited life span, will be organic compound ground into this planet." Her tone cut like a smart last of a whip. Then abruptly she smiled and softened her tone to something akin to amber honey.

"But you did ask nicely. So I suppose I could comply." With a sweet smile she flexed her hand and flipped everyone the middle finger. "Look at that, I still maintain fine motor control."

Resisting an optic roll, she laid her hand flat as he bade her to do. "And now?"

[Deleted]

The voice chuckled. The empty sound rang in hollow echoes around the concrete bunker.

"And now," he said lightly, "we find out if you will indeed live up to your claim, or if you are simply destined to be torn down into component parts from which we can reverse-engineer one more interesting device to bluetooth to the computer of this organic compound's tactical jeep. Go ahead, gentlemen."

One of the masked techs whirled a finger over his head.

The hydraulic lift whirred as a laptop was touched, activating the remote. This time, instead of hoisting the AMR-D5 further aloft, a secondary set of pressurized cylinders engaged and slide the device sideways, until it hovered just above her open palm. The smell of exhaust mingled with that of fresh rubber hoses, of hydraulic fluid, and sharp, dry electricity. The device hummed with it. The thick tangle of wires slugged into its side threaded down the side of the lift to the floor.

Again, the voice spoke.

"Now, grip the device," he said. "Please don't attempt to break it. It's quite sturdy, and essentially harmless. Besides, it was designed in little time specifically for you. Everything in this room is just for you."

[Deleted]

"If I had a credit for every time I was told that..." She muttered to herself before complying. As wary as she was of the machine, she was entirely too curious for her own good. If what he said was true, and honestly why would she have a reason to doubt him? He'd had his men do all this to test her skills. Which was flattering in a creepy way. Did he really think her that impressive?

Just wait until he finds out I'm utterly average. Won't he be upset?

"Alright, I'm gripping your device." She replied, deepening her tone to a husky murmur. Even if she was being held against her will, she wasn't going to stop being who she was. Naturally, she was a pain in the ass. The fear only made that worse.

Automatically she gripped it as if she were holding one of her weapons, which she dearly missed at the moment. Her finger gently curled around where the trigger would be.

[Deleted]

The snub-nosed device purred against her metal palm. There was no shock upon contact with it, no blast of electricity - no electromagnetic feedback tore through her neural net and curdled the quick-firing circuitry of her brain core. There was only a gentle drone, like you sometimes felt from the power cells of a cooling laser pistol after laying down a prolonged barrage of shots. Mere heat and humming.

Several of the technicians laughed behind their masks at her quip. It echoed around the range.

Even the voice chuckled.

"And I do appreciate it," he said. "All right, very good. This part of the test is quite simple, actually. In this, we are looking for a baseline from which to compare future data against. And really, your participation in it could not be any more straightforward. Do you see the wall of sandbags ahead of you?"

Over three hundred feet down the narrow range the room ended in a wall lined in heavy military-grade sandbags, stacked one on top of another. The middle of the wall was blackened, charred. Parabolic reflector lights erected upon large tripods stood to either side of it, flooding the scene with a harsh florescent radiance.

The voice spoke.

"This test shall be conducted in controlled sets. Once we begin, you will see the red light from a laser shine against that wall three times, in three different locations. When you see the red light, all you need to do is aim the device at it and pull its 'trigger', just as if you were rapidly firing upon a target in the field. It's primitive, I myself acknowledge that, but surely such a scenario is not unfamiliar to you. And that's it. That's all there is to it. After that, we shall add an additional challenge. Are you ready?"

[Deleted]

That. That's what they want? What the slag? I am going to kill that man.

All that worry, all that fear over this boring experiment?? While her arm nearly cramped with relief as she relaxed, she still wanted to fling something hard at the human belonging to the voice. What a d- To think, she'd actually feared what they had in store for her. All they wanted was a targeting demonstration.

"Gods, human. We could have done this in any setting. You had to kidnap me for this...How much money did you spend getting me here? How much resources did you just tax??" She could have done without being violated, though. Odds are this wasn't all they had in store for her but she liked to think they'd be blown away by her skills and miraculously let her free.

And Shockwave would start spouting love sonnets to Soundwave. Sure.

"You realize I'm quite handicapped with this?" She tried gesturing to her body. "I'm not used to being strapped down and losing eight-five percent of my functions. My accuracy is going to be slagged for a few shots."

[Deleted]

"Acknowledged," said the voice. "You needn't worry. We believe we have come up with the proper calculations to factor for the degradation in accuracy. As it stands, your accuracy does not entirely encompass the full scope of these tests either."

"Clear the range!" This time, it was one of the armed soldiers that bellowed it. He gestured with one hand, while the other held his rifle close to his chest. "Everyone, clear the range. Back behind the lines."

Only one technician remained in front of Roulette. He stood near her feet. He wore a dirty lab coat and surgical gloves, along with a pair of white industrial ear muffs for noise protection. He directed a small handheld camera up at her, the viewfinder tilted.

"Range One, Camera One," he said. "DBX, AMR-D5, reaction time and pain threshold - test one."

"Test one! Infrared signalling and lasers ready, sensors ready. Firing laser one - laser two, stand by."

"Laser three, stand by."

"All right, Roulette," said the voice calmly. "At any time."

In the hush that follow, the dry clatter of a laptop's keys being rapidly pressed was audible. A moment later a small red laser dot appeared on the distant sandbags, targeting the top right corner. Less that three seconds later another followed it, this time in the centre of the wall. The third was a second behind it, and it flashed off-centre of the wall, to the left. Each dot shone clean and red for an instant before disappearing, leaving her with little time to aim and press the trigger.

[Deleted]

Unlike some primitive species, Roulette could actually multitask. The fact that she was trying to maintain conversation with an enemy while performing menial tasks was neither here nor there. Really, this felt like another day on the Nemesis in regards to comfort. Which brought questions to mind at the worst time. Why was she on board the Nemesis if it was so uncomfortable?

Guilt trickled across her processor and she sought to distract from the fleeting feeling. "So what do your acronyms mean? DBX? AMR? You don't seem the type to just throw a bunch of letters together like a game of scrabble."

As for targeting the dots, she did give it a go. Not her best, admittedly, but she wasn't in her element at all. She was positive she missed every dot by at least a few centimeters. The "gun" was unwieldy and foreign to her hand. She frowned at her own sloppiness.

Tsk, being kidnapped is no excuse.

[Deleted]

The voice laughed.

"Mere designations for our lab crews, so they know which footage to reference when we refer to it again," he said. "AMR however, is a little different. 'Automatic Monitor Remote' - a rather unimpressive name for what is, in essence, a simple transmitting device, if built on a larger scale than what it is typically designed for. But it gets the job done. Kampman! How are the baseline results?"

While Roulette and the voice had spoken, the technicians below had gathered around the laptops. They stared at the screen intently, across which multiple windows were already beginning to accumulate. Feedback from the firing was sleeting back through hidden detector built into the walls, each of them snapping up bits of information from various angles of the encoded laser 'bullets'.

After a pause, one of the technicians stood back from the monitor and raised his goggles. He flashed a thumbs up at something far above and behind Roulette's head.

"Just coming in now, sir," he said. He was a tall man, and bearded; his chemical mask had been tugged down around his throat, his ear protection pushed back. "Looks good. Seems consistent when compared to analysis results from her off-state condition. Seeing no unexpected differences in reaction time so far. I think we're safe to use it as our baseline."

"Good," said the voice. "All right, Roulette. We have what we need. Let's try the same thing again. Three targets, three shots from the remote transmitter. This time, however, we're going to add a little challenge for you."

The technician waved to one of his comrades.

"Dial up the stimuli on the nociceptors, point two percent," he said.

For Roulette, something changed.

It was a tiny hum, a clear note played in crystal upon her spark. It would ring in her fuel lines, her circuitry - a light vibration. It was gentle, little more than a tingle in the very tips of her fingers.

"Fire the transmitters," said the voice.

"Firing laser one - laser two and three, stand by!"

Again, the three dots appeared for her to tag while the note sang through her frame, scattered across the sandbags.

[Deleted]

The humans were careful, she'd give them that. She was memorizing their voices just in case she got the chance to, ah, meet them again. The voice in charge was burned in her processor. She'd know that voice no matter where it came from. But seeing as how the humans were starting to shed their head gear...that did make identifying them much easier.

"That's a very boring name. And you never did tell me yours. Very rude for a host. How are we going to continue this conversation if I don't have a name?" Give me a name, even if it's a fake one.

"This time, however, we're going to add a little challenge for you."

The sensation was...bearable. And that was the problem. It was bearable now. That didn't mean it would be an hour from now. If they were trying to measure her accuracy under stress, she doubted they were going to stick to "just mildly annoying" to get their data. No, the vibration would start to slip into pain at some point.

So what does this give you? Are you trying to find a way to hamper our targeting?

Despite the annoying hum, Roulette had better accuracy this time around. Not that her aim was spot on and perfect. But she was closer to the dots than before as she grew used to the improvised targeting device.

[Deleted]

"Excellent," said the voice in satisfaction.

Several others had joined the loose group of technicians who ringed the laptops. They all stood shoulder to shoulder and stared into the data feeds that streamed across the monitors. Roulette would be able to hear the men talking in low voices, interrupting one another in their hurry to interpret what they were looking at.

Evidently the man at the other end of the intercom had access to the same data in his control platform. His voice rang in and out of audibility as he spoke in low tones to others in the room with him. After a moment he returned to the microphone, his voice regaining its clarity.

"Very good!" he said. "It's interesting - we provided you with a low-level distraction for the last set, and yet your accuracy scores actually improved by a margin. Are you perhaps equipped with an ancillary backup of your target acquisition system that is activated when a sensory hindrance is encountered? A form of inherent redundancy, perhaps? Hm."

He trailed off, musing. Evidently a name was not forthcoming.

Meanwhile, the bearded technician was motioning again.

"We'll dial up nociceptor stimuli by point eight percent this time, sir," he said. "Stand by, all range tech! All clear the transmitters."

Again, the change was subtle. The clear note that skated through Roulette's circuitry intensified. This time the tingle was a buzzing trapped under her plating - light, but insistent. It hummed through her fingers, rooting itself somewhere within the endoskeleton of her arm. It was not painful, but it was firm. Steady.

"All right, fire the transmitters," said the voice. "Let's see if you can actually improve your aim again, Roulette. You've faced worse distractions, I should assume?"

"Firing laser one - laser two and three, stand by!"

One by one, the three dots sprang into life.

[Deleted]

This humans are either really smart and incredibly stupid.

It made her feel better to think they were just stupid. She got it. She did. They thought she was this marvelous engineering feat. From their tiny, primitive view point, she was probably a miracle of machinery and technology. Why wouldn't she have a sophisticated targeting system? Some cassettes and mechs had them. She'd certainly considered getting an upgrade but she'd always been too poor and too unimportant to be a candidate.

Unfortunately, Mystery Man and his men couldn't quite grasp what Roulette was doing. And she considered telling him, if he'd but give her a name. There was no complex machinations about her. The reason her aim was improving? She was concentrating better.

She shook her head minutely at their folly but dutifully took aim again despite the annoying buzzing. Wonder if this is what it's like to have a bee hive under the hood? The slight irritation wasn't enough to throw her aim off. Far from it. She was starting to get familiar with the paltry machine. The calibrations were a too wonky for her to make a satisfactory score. If she happened to hit one of the targets dead on, it would be sheer luck.

"Very rude, human. I may have to think of a name for you if this continues."

[Deleted]

"You are certainly free to," said the voice, with an air of dry civility. "Particularly if it bolsters your nerve, or gives you some measure of vindictive satisfaction. In fact... I think I would recommend that you find whatever comfort you can from these final few minutes. After this, things will begin to get much more unpleasant for you."

The bearded technician waved at the observation room. "Again, sir, we're seeing a small increase in accuracy and rapidity in target acquisition despite the increase in the factor of physical and neural distraction."

"Very good. Dial it up by fifteen percent this time, Kampman. Extrapolate what you need between data sets to account for the unscaled increase. Ultimately, that sector is not what we're after anyway. It can be skipped over."

The technician hesitated, then nodded.

"Yes sir," he said.

He struggled to pull up his mask, and grimly snapped his goggles back down over his eyes.

They all did. Across the room, one by one, the technicians were tugging their masks into place, securing their ear and eye protection. Bedecked as such, they looked like white insects, moving about her with sudden, intent purpose.

Fingers clattered on a laptop's keyboard.

And all at once the hum was gentle no longer. It seared down her lines, scraping knives of electrical stimulus across her raw circuitry in a sharp and effortless ache. It squealed in her audials, a piercing tone that did not waver. The tingle in her fingertips was gone, replaced with a fierce buzz that strained her plating against the finest seams in her hands and wrists.

"Firing laser one - laser two and three, stand by!"

Again the three lights flashed against the sandbags, brilliant and red.

[Deleted]

Vindictive satisfaction? Oh no, she didn't need vindictive satisfaction. That was a cheap, paltry thing that wouldn't apologize for this trespass. No, what she needed was to eradicate this man's entire family line. And perhaps then she would start to feel better about being strapped to a fragging chair and experimented on like a fragging monkey.

She likely would have said as much if she'd gotten the chance. Two things derailed her at once. One, she learned a name. Kampman. Could be a false designation but she also had a name with the face. Very sloppy of the man.

Then the pain hit. She'd never actually been subjected to torture. Never had she fallen to enemy hands and she doubted pain was the Autobot's kink. So the sudden jump from "slightly annoying" to "searing sharp" derailed any intelligent thought she might have strung together. Her mental train was a successfully tangled heap as she tried to scramble any form of coping with that feeling. Only belatedly did she remember to try and target those fucking dots.

Roulette missed the first two but nailed the third by sheer chance and groping desperation. Swiftly afterward she clutched at her head trying to stop the audio shrieking. The body pain was bad but the audio thing was possibly the worst by far. Even her shaking hand didn't compare to having noise grate on her audio receptors.

How is this only fifteen percent?!

More than anything she wished she had full use of her limbs. If only so she could move as if that would make the pain tolerable.

I don't think I'm going to survive 100%... Of course it dawned on her that they had mentioned dissecting her afterward.

[Deleted]

"Ah, you missed two of them that time," said the voice. It spoke with an air of amusement, as if it had found some satisfaction in her error. "Well, that's disappointing. But interesting, and not unexpected. We are beginning to throw a little more at you now. Consider it a unique test of your skills before you die, the chance to pit them against a disability that few of your comrades here on Earth have yet had the opportunity to face."

The technician, Kampman, whistled and waved for attention.

"Getting some new feedback from the nociceptors this time," he said. He needed to shout to be heard through his mask. His goggles flashed like white lamps beneath the florescent lights. "Before we were seeing a lot of fast travel terminating in the dorsal column, where it snapses on what we're calling dendrites of some form of equatable neospinothalamic tract. Now we're starting to get slow pain on another type of fibres leading to the same column. I suspect these neurons will terminate in the brain core if we increase the stimuli by another fifteen percent on top of what we've already firing into the subject."

"Make it twenty," said the voice. "Good job. Get to it."

"Aye, sir. Increasing by another twenty percent. Stand by."

The keyboard was tapped, a tiny sound that nonetheless poured raw pain like acid straight into Roulette's circuitry, into her neural net, black and choking, leaving her body to smoulder under its assault. It screamed in her audial receptors, a ceaseless white agony so shrill it nearly blotted out every other noise in the test range.

The voice over the intercom was dim now.

"Can you still hear me, Roulette?" it said calmly. "Can you even hear anything now? I'm almost curious to know. I have so many questions I still wanted to ask you."

"Firing laser one - laser two and three, stand by!"

Three lights. One, two, three - searing red.

[Deleted]

"Consider it a unique test of your skills before you die, the chance to pit them against a disability that few of your comrades here on Earth have yet had the opportunity to face."

No. You will not use me against my own kind! It will not end like that!

Just as the pain climbed to another hellish height, Roulette reflexively groped at the test gun and tightened her fingers around the handle hard enough to make the joints creak. She wanted nothing more than to tear at her own body to escape the feeling crawling through her nerves but refused to succumb to the impotent gesture. She couldn't stop the pain, but she could try to focus through it.

"I hear you..." she rasped through clenched dental plates. Her vox no longer carried the teasing edge but deepened and dipped into static for a moment. Fear that she would start screaming latched onto her mind adding to the frenzied shrieking in her audios.

Don't scream, don't scream just focus.

Impossible to ignore the pain but she held onto the gun like a lifesaving raft and waited for the dots to appear. This time she was ready. And while her grip on the handle was shaky from too much input and pain, she got closer to the dots than before.