Book-Reading Dead End

[dragoness_e]

Another one of my 28s that won't fit in a comment. You'd think by know that I'd know better than to even try...

This one takes place shortly after the events of On His Knees Dead End.

Book-Reading Dead End

Dead End came out of stasis lock in the Constructicons' lab after his losing battle with Sunstreaker, which quite pleasantly surprised him. Evidently, the yellow Lamborghini Autobot had not had the chance to put a photon beam through Dead End's main cognitive processor.

Note for future reference: Sunstreaker prefers to hit the cognitive processor first, laser core second for his coup de grace.

He felt no pain--possibly because Hook had him laid open to his core and cog and had disconnected all the pain sensors.

"You are online," Hook said in a vaguely disapproving tone, "because I need your feedback on kinesthesia. Your gyros are repaired and you need to calibrate them. Once that is done, you may remain online if there are no complications." As long as you don't kick up a fuss and make my job harder, was what Hook really meant.

"Acknowledged," said Dead End, only half his attention on Hook as he ferreted through his data stores for something he hadn't read lately. Not Smith--he wasn't in the mood for dark fantasy lately... Not Shelley, the protagonist was far too whiny and idiotic... Stoker dragged too much... Austen? How had that gotten in his memory banks? Romances simply confused him, particularly Victorian ones. They hinged far too much on obscure points of human custom. Edgar Burroughs's romances were about the only ones he could follow easily, and they happily included a fair amount of mayhem, weird geography, and even weirder zoology. Even if the male partner always seemed terribly careless about misplacing his female partner.

There had to be something worth reading in the download he'd taken from that Project Gutenberg site. Right now wasn't a good time to bug Hook about Internet access...

The half of his attention that was on Hook dutifully answered the Constructicon's test questions about sensation, balance and position as Dead End continued poking through his data stores. Ah! Robert Louis Stevenson looked promising, and he had several books....

"LET GO OF ME, YOU SLAGGING LIMEYS!" Motormaster's shout of rage distracted Dead End about a third of the way through Treasure Island.

The remaining Constructicons had brought the Stunticon leader back online--Scrapper handling the actual repairs, Scavenger assisting, Bonecrusher immoblizing Motormaster, and Mixmaster regulating whatever concoction he was pumping into Motormaster's fuel lines to keep the Stunticon semi from berserking. The usual. The Constructicons hated working on Motormaster--he was a lousy subject.

"Hurry it up," Bonecrusher snarled at Mixmaster. "He's even harder to hold down than Brawl!"

"J-just a moment longer..." Mixmaster replied as Motormaster thrashed in Bonecrusher and Scrapper's grip. Motormaster opened his mouth to snarl some obscenity at the bulldozer-mech--

Mixmaster jammed what Scrapper called a 'Stunticon lolli' between Motormaster's jaws. It was more like a short spear with an electro-chemical warhead. Motormaster's head and body went suddenly rigid as the initial charge briefly paralyzed his vocalizer and all his motor circuits--just long enough for the second and third parts of the payload to take effect. Part two inhibited the Stunticon's emotional network, rendering him calm, neither angry nor happy--but not particularly cooperative, either. Motormaster's innate contrariness manifested as a stubborn apathy when his rage was suppressed. (Curiously like Dead End's, which occasioned much private speculation among the Constructicons) The third part of the payload dealt with that, lowering his suggestibility threshold and making him more likely to follow simple, non-threatening orders.

Now they could do their job, and repair Motormaster. The Constructicons did not talk about Mixmaster's 'special medications' to outsiders, not even to Megatron. Especially not to Megatron. Megatron might not understand just why they'd developed a weapon that, coincidentally, would work very well on him.

It amused Dead End to let the eminently capable, brilliant engineers think that the gloomy Stunticon who never needed tranqing was as apathetic and oblivious as he looked. Hook, at least, should have known better--but then, Dead End avoided playing chess with Hook for a reason. He preferred to be underestimated.

It took only a small fraction of Dead End's processing capacity to read his e-book; the rest of it kept track of everything that went on around him. Even if Long John Silver was disturbingly reminiscent of Starscream....

-- FIN --

Comments

[raisedbymoogles.livejournal.com]

...Stunticon lolli. BWAH. XD

[lunatron.livejournal.com]

The concept of Constructicons as limeys makes me go o_O. I realise it's an allusion to their colour, but, mhm, English sailor Constructicons...

[ravynfyre.livejournal.com]

Y'know... It never really occured to me just how good Ratchet's got it. *snerk*

And some day, Dead End is going to shock the hell out of some seriously unexpecting Constructies. His comments on Burroughs's had me in stitches, though.

Lord but I love your Dead End. *gryn*