[ti]Ep 3.5[/ti]Psychotoxic [Nue]

[Megatron]

Episode 3.5 | Week 1 | Day 7 | Closed

An invitation by the lord of the Decepticons could mean many things. It could be a boon, a curse, or a call to action. Today, as the Control Room buzzed with personnel of all sorts—Vehicons moving to and fro between missions, mines, and patrols, named comrades passing by, even the occasional supply crate rolling through—it seemed rather likely that something grand has been set into motion. Not long ago, Megatron increased demands for Energon even as Soundwave outlined the steps necessary to recover their Warship. Soon after, the Warlord began monitoring human supply lines for raw resources. Now? Another piece of the puzzle fell into place as a long-lost Decepticon returned back to the fold.

It was time to put it to work as well.

The tyrant stood alone at the central console, the very nerve center of the entire Decepticon operation on Earth, and commanded at his fingertips the many branches of their host, keeping track of everything that had been done thus far to advance his goals. Usually, this was Soundwave's place, but today—today he was overseeing matters personally. Ever since his return there has been an urgency to his actions and demeanor, as if he was rushing along to reclaim what had been lost and to set in motion greater plans. His face remained stern and revealed nothing of his grim works, illuminated faintly by a red light emanating from the main display.

On it swirled a readout of the Nemesis, surrounded by worksheets and schedules.

Clearly, he was reviewing the practicalities of their grand endeavor and he seemed wholly focused on them. Despite this, Nue was to meet him here at this hour, among everybody else rushing about their tasks. Perhaps Megatron wanted to instill some of that urgency into his newest asset as well. But for now? He waited, surrounded by logistics and readouts, by matters of practicality. They kept him occupied, his steady hands busy. Idleness was not an option—merely a poison for the impotent ruler.

[Nue]

This was inevitable. From the very moment the Decepticons recontacted him, Nue knew that Lord Megatron would request an audience and put him to work. After all this time left adrift and without purpose, he would finally be back to doing what he loved. Oh he was chomping at the bit, bursting at the seams even. He launched out of his quarters and made his way through the hold's corridors to the control room the second he received word.

Nue approached the massive warlord after weaving through the Decepticons buzzing about the area and took a deep bow before announcing his presence.

"Lord Megatron, it is an honor to be in your presence after all these years...You wished to see me?"

Bow, check. Addressed with reverence, check. Such was a standard introduction to one's betters, and disingenuous purely for the purpose of favor- were this any other Deception superior, anyhow. For Megatron, the bot that gave Nue the freedom to practice his life's work, he meant every last word. Were it not for the tyrant before him, he would be stuck among good-for-nothing pirates with little respect for his talents. Now that he was back, he'd happily fulfill his roll in Megatron's grand schemes.

[Megatron]

Megatron maintained a steady focus on the monitor even as Nue addressed him, gracing it with only an over-the-shoulder glance. His optics briefly scanned the Decepticon's form, then briefly locked with Nue's own as if to imprint on it—or perhaps to memorize it. The Warlord had an ancient memory and never once forgot the face of another. This one, too, would be remembered. Then, he turned back to the central console and continued to work his massive claws across the interface.

"You must be Nue," he replied at once, his tone that of measured observation, slowly rising upwards into a question, "The chemist who arrived yesterday?"

He paused, entering a set of commands into the console. One by one, the readouts faded before his optics. First, an outline of the Nemesis, then a roster of his troops, and finally, a detailed report of their Energon production. The screen had finally gone black. Megatron turned around, fully now and with a mighty motion. He proceeded towards Nue, walking down the two steps that separated them from standing on even ground.

The serpent's reverence went unaddressed. A degree of adulation from his host was expected yet never forced and never praised for its own sake. Megatron had little love for flattery and considered it a worthless gesture. Still, face-to-face with the Warlord, Nue could scarcely feel his equal. Megatron's silhouette framed its own in a tall shadow, obscuring the aggressive fluorescent lights emanating from the station behind him. He was tall—frighteningly so, even for a former gladiator, even for Megatron. He made every picture of himself—every recording and every statue—seem small.

"I am told you are also an interrogator," the tyrant continued in a calm yet powerful voice. He raised his hand briefly as if to call to mind Nue's own place in his ranks, then lowered it again. It was a well-practiced motion.

[Nue]

The chemist watched Megatron's work on the console out of the corner of his eye, but he only rose from his bow once the warlord turned and approached him. Despite the multitude of rumors that surrounded the Decepticon's leader, none of them could have properly prepared Nue for truly meeting the legend in person. The way Megatron towered above him and cast a looming shadow over his comparatively minuscule stature...He couldn't help but feel unnerve soaking into the wellspring of excitement he had but a moment ago. He wouldn't be so quickly put down, however. Now was the time to make a good impression.

"Yes, my lord. Poisons and people are my specialties, and I am oh so eager to put them to good use once again," Nue responded as he bowed once more. "And judging by just how hectic things seem to be around here...I get the feeling that you already have a role in mind for yours truly?"

[Megatron]

"Perhaps," Megatron replied in a deep, measured tone, "While there are assets that could benefit from your... 'persuasive touch', presently I am far more interested in what you can contribute to Decepticon science."

With optics downcast and still loosely fixed upon Nue, the Warlord circumvented him with a few heavy steps. Their positions were reversed now, with the humble servant bathed in the light of the control room and the master receding into a darkening corner. He turned around then, stared down a dim entryway. Soon, Megatron set off in its direction, towards a tunnel feeding deeper into Blackridge. He waved a servo briefly, a beckoning call: "Follow me."

He supplied the motion and the words with a single over-the-shoulder glance and then resumed on his path. As Megatron proceeded further into their modest fortress, down the winding hallway, the Decepticons surrounding him naturally cleared aside. He didn't even have to give the order. His presence was enough for the Vehicons, Eradicons, and miners to steer clear, knowing full well that it was not their place to interfere. Some followed the implicit command, the decorum of tyranny, so wordlessly they ceased to be people—others whispered, muttering under their breath, but none would stand in the Warlord's way and nearly all would stand at attention.

No common Decepticon would follow after him, only one should—and it was Nue itself.

[Nue]

Nue watched as Megatron proceeded down the dark corridor further into the hold. For the briefest of seconds, it paused. Its conversation with Windshield played back in its head; the rumor of Dark Energon hung heavy over it. For all of heinous, awful, unforgivable things that Nue had aided...Nue couldn't help but get a horrible hunch it was about to take its first step into a league far beyond its most wicked imagination.

It was exhilarating.

The bot quickly followed after into the halls with the brisk pace necessary to keep up with a towering titan like Megatron. It glanced at the faceless fodder that parted way as they walked. What a fascinating reaction, it mused to itself. Though it had witnessed something similar with officials in the past, this was... different, particularly the tension that spiked in the air just from crossing paths with Megatron. Truly he was a living legend that commanded attention, respect, and fear.

Best not to get too lost in all that, though. Nue affixed its gaze back ahead towards the Decepticon leader. The tyrant blocked any chance it had of properly seeing where he was leading it through Blackridge. It would just have to blindly trust him for now as it wordlessly followed behind him.

[Megatron]

The two Decepticons descended further into Blackridge and along the path, anyone they met would steer clear of them. It was as if Megatron's presence choked the thought of anything but quiet servitude out of the rank soldiers in the heart of their base. The tunnels twisted ever downwards, and gradually, the Vehicons and Eradicons in the area seemed to be outnumbered by worker drones, miners—non-combatants. They have descended quite deep into the cavern when they stopped at a small and unimpressive entrance. There was no door and the inside of the room ahead was plain to see.

A laboratory, salvaged from what they had left after the Nemesis collapsed into the ocean, occupied primarily by one individual. It would gain a second chemist today.

"These humble trappings are yours to use—and share," the Warlord stated importantly, stepping in. He carried himself with a powerful stride to the middle of the chamber and turned towards Nue. The room surrounding them was a humble one. Only the bare essentials, but the bare essentials were often enough in chemistry. It was certainly no Nemesis, but Megatron knew Nue started from nothing, down in Kaon with him and the rest, and he was confident that it could make something of that nothing.

The Decepticons always have.

This was to be a new beginning, so perhaps it was fitting that here was where Nue could start anew with his old comrades. One could almost call it poetic, were they to search for hollow meanings in necessity—something Megatron considered himself above nowadays. Though, the poet's impulse to consider was still present—even after all those years—an impulse quickly snuffed.

Instead, he continued in the plainest of terms:

"Our current circumstances do not permit me to equip you with a laboratory of your own."

The tyrant said no more, instead awaiting a reaction. Another of his little tests, for it was always enlightening to see if his assets could cope in diminished conditions.

[Nue]

As Nue stepped into the room, its gaze swept around the meager trappings which Megatron was bestowing unto it. Its facial expression remained neutral for the time being. Had it been directed straight from the space bridge and into this little dingy den of a lab, it would have assuredly been in a sour enough of a mood to make some sort of backhanded comment. 'Oh how troubled these times are indeed milord,' it would have said with a sneer, but the past couple days had given the alchemist time to adjust to their limited situation.

"Quaint," Nue said with a digit pressed against his chin, "And nostalgic certainly. Almost reminds me of..." It paused briefly as a thought, or perhaps a face, crossed its mind. "...My beginnings, long ago."

It was, altogether, not that particularly dissatisfied with these accommodations. Would it have been nice to have something akin to its resplendent laboratory back on Cybertron? Certainly, but it's worked up from nigh nothing before. It can do that again. Though not even the chemist could hide the ever so slight twitch in its facial expression at the mention of having to share the facility.

"I will certainly make do with what we have, Lord Megatron," It assured the tyrant. 

"...If I may ask, though, who else will I be sharing with? I have not fully acquainted myself with our roster yet."

If it was forced to have a lab partner, it would rather not be caught completely off guard by any... eccentricities.

[Megatron]

Megatron remained in the dead center of the room, letting Nue skulk about to its spark's contents. The equipment, while pedestrian, was sufficient and well-maintained. A single interface to the side, an array of beakers, test tubes, and related equipment behind the Warlord, and rock hewn shelves for additional storage wherever possible. Truly, it was only little better than a wayside laboratory in Kaon. Though Nue's observation of that reality continued unaddressed, Megatron did offer it a knowing look, a curt incline of the helm in acknowledgement.

Until the subject shifted back to the topic of co-ownership.

"Her name is Pipette," the tyrant answered plainly, scarcely moving an inch. Then, he lowered his brows, tilting his head slightly to the left.

"She can be a very... direct individual."

The emphasis on directness was not phrased in tones of derision. On the contrary, Megatron appreciated the chemist's plain and straightforward nature. However, he did bring it up with a distinct pause as if to suggest that tensions might rise between the old and the new. Nue struck him as someone decidedly more free-spirited than Pipette. He did not consider it a negative quality by itself—many of the best Decepticons under his command were staunch individualists—but just to be certain, he prepared his new asset for the coming friction.

And, yet, should any of that tension boil over... Some few words to chase away the possibility were in order.

"But I am confident you will find common ground in your pursuit of scientific enlightenment."

His confidence was an iron shackle. It was not an order, not a warning. There were no hidden threats or promised repercussions—only the vague suggestion that, should their differences jeopardize the cause, they would be betraying Megatron's confidence. And that very notion of betrayal? It would surely grieve Nue more than any punishment ever could.

[Nue]

It quietly hummed to itself as it continued its inspection of the lab. Its right hand held up one of the various beakers that sat upon the work table, lifting it up and examining it from neck to base. Meager indeed, the chemist mused to itself, but still impressive that such a setup had been cobbled together. Nue couldn’t help but quietly contemplate how in Primus they had gathered the equipment in the first place. Scavenged off the sea floor from the Nemesis, perhaps? Or maybe they were made to order somehow? This world seemed far too… small for the inhabitants to make something of this size. The bot hadn’t met any of these ‘humans’, but it could probably stick a few of them in this beaker alone- use them for experiments...Crack them open...See their miserable little secrets…

Nue’s lips cracked into a cruel grin as it already began formulating side projects to work on in its free time. Why it accidentally almost tuned out Megatron with its daydreaming. Almost.

“Mmh, I see...The forward types are always the fun ones,” Nue mumbled back in response. Whether it felt anticipation or dread was a bit hard to gauge.

“I look forward to working with her. It’ll be a refreshing change of pace to have a fellow Cybertronian of science at my side and not…” It made a flippant motion of the wrist as its faced scrunched up into an irritated expression. “A pirate looking over my shoulder trying to make sure I’m not poisoning the crew.”

It huffed as it set down a piece of lab equipment and mumbled in irritation to itself. “Maybe if she gave me room to work I wouldn’t have been trying to poison the crew...”

[Megatron]

Megatron remained frighteningly still, only gesturing towards Nue with a brief nod.

"I'm certain you will find ample opportunity to exercise your talents in my service," he responded calmly, nary lifting a brow at the mention of the attempted poisoning. Perhaps it did not concern him, either because he believed Nue wouldn't do something so desperately foolish were a Decepticon to slight him or because he believed it to be impossible. Blackridge was the safest place for one of their kin to be—here on Earth—if only because it was monitored almost religiously by Soundwave.

Indeed, there was no indication that Nue's open admission phased him at all. He completely glossed over it, didn't move an inch, and simply kept the conversation going in an enforced direction. There was no threat or malice in the way he carried himself, in the manner of his speech, or even his following words. The terror of his rule was one of things left unsaid. The idea that he did not even have to react. That he had every confidence in his own ability to command such a wild individual—to obliterate it wordlessly, if he had to.

But, for now...

"For now, I suggest you familiarize yourself with the environment on this world. You may find Earth quite different from what you are used to."

Though phrased as a suggestion, it was a command of a sort. Megatron spoke with a certain firmness that made it difficult to refuse him or his advice. If Nue were to live on this world amidst his host, it would have to conduct itself a certain way. The cost of its creative freedom was a simple one: obedience. If Megatron wished it to know Earth, then it would know Earth.

"To that end, one of your comrades should be of assistance."

[Nue]

'For now...'

Nue eagerly anticipated the words it ached for centuries to hear. The command to create, destroy, experiment, anything! It would finally get to release all the tension that had been brewing inside of it ever since he watched the Nemesis and the Ark flee from Cybertron!

...And then a white hot nugget of disappointment dropped right into the pit of his spark. Megatron had enlisted him specifically for his chemical expertise, and his first command was to take a walk?!

The chemist processed this command quietly for a brief moment and hid its dismay behind a carefully practiced stoic facade. "Of course, m'lord," Nue said with a bow and a flit of the wrist. "I have been needing to procure a form befitting Earth anyhow. Though I planned to spend most of my time in this lab, freshening up my appearance would do me some good."

It finally returned upright, folded its arms behind its back, and looked up at the tyrant expectantly. Nue dared not leave without his dismissal. "Is that all you wished to brief me on, m'lord?"

[Megatron]

Megatron tilted this helm to the side, raising a curious brow at the tall and ghastly implement in his shadow. He did not answer its question right away, instead taking some time to consider something private, thoroughly.

"It may take some time before you can fully appreciate the scope of my grand design," he answered with no small measure of gravitas, "But, I would entrust you with an opportunity..."

He paused briefly.

"To find your place in it."

The Warlord did not explain further. Not for the time being. Instead, with a few heavy steps, he made his way towards the lab table secured to the far side of the wall, just past Nue. His gargantuan claws reached for a small glass tablet. It seemed minuscule in his grasp, and yet it would be the first step towards something far greater.

He held it to his hip, and then...

Sudden, swift movements. His massive claws formed a point and struck harshly. No, not at Nue or the environment, but the Warlord himself—opening a small gash in his abdomen, right where the plating was thin.

And liquid trickled down.

Not blue. Purple. A single streak of Energon, tainted by the precious blood of Unicron. It was no myth, nor legend. It was real. Here, on Earth, coursing through his veins. Spilled for the chemist's benefit. Still bright, still rare. As it were now, he alone was its source.

Megatron let the precious, accursed chaos blood drip down to the flat glass. He extended it to Nue, now a sample to be studied: "Behold, the blood of the Chaos Bringer, coursing through my veins."

There was a fiery spark in the old tyrant's optics as he exclaimed those words. Where many saw a horror beyond comprehension, he saw opportunity and power to be harnessed. He wondered, there and then, if Nue saw it too. If it didn't, then his next words would be a cross for the chemist to bear.

"I have mastered its dark powers. Here, on this world—and have wondered since: How?"

Another pause, one much longer than the previous.

"You will find an answer for me."

While Pipette worked on the tangible, difficult and grueling iterations of his present designs, the ones that were of grand import and could not be allowed to fail, this newcomer would delve into the past and chase ghosts, put them under a microscope—and produce a hypothesis, a theory...

With nothing but an ounce of tainted blood.

There was only one sample, and Megatron would surely not give him another. Similarly, there was no reason given as to why the Warlord took such a sudden interest in examining this symbiotic link. It seemed that an impossible task had been given to Nue. But the impossible was Megatron's stock and trade, and so the impossible would be Nue's test. His very first since his return to the fold—and perhaps his last, should he fail.