Kill the Numbers [Dark Data]

[Claptrap]

Afte being thrown from the dragon, Claptrap landed head-first a good distance away from the fight. Pulling himself to his feet, Claptrap rubbed his head. "Computer." Claptrap said to himself. "Can you run a diagnosis." 

"Of course, Claptrap." The cheery Hyperion voice responded. Claptrap began wheeling himself back to the fight as the diagnostic program did its work, picking up his thankfully intact shotgun on the way there. "Diagnosis complete." The computer chimed. A graphic displaying Claptrap's body appeared in his vision. Several areas were marked in red, showing varying levels of damage, mostly just scratches but some was serious.

"Jeez." Claptrap groaned. "That doesn't look to good." He could easily patch himself up if he had the time, the tools and the metal, but none of those were available right now. He'd just have to fix himself up at the fortress. Reaching the fight, Claptrap began unloading his shotgun into the beast once more. Each shot was only doing a little, but progress was progress, and the dragon was already considerably weakened.

Not satisfied with slowly wearing the dragon down, Claptrap hatched a plan. Miranda's punch had left the dragon's hind leg limp, and a perfect ramp to get back onto the dragon. Taking his opportunity when the dragon was distracted by Summer, Claptrap discarded his shotgun and rushed towards its broken leg, before riding up the calf. When he got to the thigh, it became too steep to go up with his wheel, so he had to climb with his arms instead. 

The dragon's scales made effective handholds, but progress was slow as Claptrap's power reserves were starting to run low, making him similarly sluggish to an exhausted human. Lifting himself to the dragon's back, Claptrap was once again on relatively flat ground, and could move towards the dragon's head. Suddenly aware of the presence of something on its back, however, the dragon had other ideas. 

Just as he had passed the wings, Claptrap was nearly thrown off by the massive, torn wings suddenly swinging wildly. Although they couldn't really get an lift, the wings still created near gale force wings, threatening to send Claptrap airborne once more as he clung onto the golden scales of the dragon's flank for dear life. Slowly and not too steadily, Claptrap climbed from one scale to another, inching towards the head. Finally, Claptrap reached beginning of the neck and pulled himself up, mostly out of the reach of the wings. 

Claptrap wheeled towards the crown of the dragon's head, catching a glimpse of his surroundings as he did so. The view would have been strangely beautiful if Claptrap wasn't hanging from the head of a maddened corrupted dragon. Getting back to work, Claptrap carefully lowered himself down towards the dragon's left eye. It would have undoubtedly tried to shake him lose, but it was currently preoccupied by the group of liberators below. Getting a firm grip of the scales just above the high, Claptrap released his grip with one hand to summon his shotgun. 

The eye was partially damaged from the robot's last attack, but was still able to meet Claptrap's single eye for a moment. Only fury burned in the beast's eye, no traces of any other emotion remained. "Sorry not-sorry, guy, you look like you'll drop some SWEET loot." Claptrap said before blasting the dragon's last half-good eye with his shotgun. Just as it had when it's right eye had been destroyed by Sonny, the dragon screamed in pain and anger. Claptrap yelped as it shook wildly, now fully blind, and was thrown to the ground for the second time. Thankfully, Claptrap only dropped down instead of being tossed away, and landed mostly in one piece.

"Did... Did I do it?" Claptrap said in a daze, before scrambling for his shotgun in case his plan went awry. Thanfully, when he turned back to the beast, blood dripped from both eyes and it bathed the battlefield in flame randomly, missing the liberators by a large margin. "Yeah! Critical hit!" Claptrap cried, fist pumping as he did so.

700 words