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The Passenger is acting weird again.
Dead End isn't quiet; a tad more reserved than some, maybe, but for those with audials to hear (and no choice in the matter due to the little red-plated insect inhabiting them), the Stunticon grumbles and mutters and complains to himself all cycle long. This thing where he goes all quiet and unresponsive for long periods of time— this isn't like him. And unfortunately for Astrotrain, not only does he notice these things, but he feels strangely obligated to fix it. Trouble is— he has no idea how.
Doesn't help that Astrotrain's never had a Passenger before. The Other One did not trust him with his so-called perfect troops, rightly suspecting he would jettison them all once he got a good distance off the ground. So instead he'd have him haul cargo he had no incentive to drop. In the beginning, it was bodies, mostly; then, when the bodies ran out, he'd have him transport energon, weapons, raw material. Each inglorious trip grated against his pride just a little more. The only thing that kept him going was the threat of having his wings clipped if he didn't.
Years of this sparkless drudgery, interrupted only by the arrival of an unexpected savior, and in his wake, a pouty, pessimistic, ill-tempered scowl on wheels. And it was thus that the glorious and powerful Astrotrain came to acquire his first Passenger.
This new Megatron cannot really be called as such; too much overlap between him and his former captor, enough that trying to assign him the role scrambes the values in Astrotrain's processor. He settles on the far safer title of "employer". The same does not apply for his other occupant. The annoyance, whom he soon learns is called "Dead End", is a sulky, ungrateful little thing, hardly worthy to be called any Passenger of his. But until they get back to Cybertron, he's as stuck with Astrotrain as Astrotrain is with him.
So far he thinks he's done a pretty decent job managing his one and only Passenger. Closing doors in his face and tilting before he has a chance to get his safety harness on and popping open the nearest airlocks are all just him showing he cares . Gotta keep the little pest's reflexes and wits sharp for when he's not in Astrotrain and beyond his help. And if he just so happens to get some personal amusement out of it, well...
Besides, it's not as if Dead End doesn't give as good as he gets. Whenever their illustrious leader is safely out of audial range, the grounder has very few reservations letting Astrotrain know exactly what he thinks of him. That or "forgetting" to wipe his tires off after he's been driving around on an organic world, or kicking the components under the pilot's seat console. To which Astrotrain will usually answer by pulling his seat back abruptly and tipping him out onto the floor, and so the cycle continues. But then there are times like this, when Astrotrain is forced to reckon with just how little experience he really has.
They've been drifting through this planet's upper atmosphere for the better part of a solar cycle now. Megatron is down there, negotiating (read: strongarming the natives) for weapons. As for Dead End, Astrotrain expected him to perform his usual routine for whenever they were forced to wait around— groan, gripe, worry, argue, pace, sulk, mope. But he'd done none of those things. Instead, the nanoklik they'd reached the right altitude, he'd slunk off the bridge and curled up on his recharge slab without a word.
Initially Astrotrain just ignored him. He's a shuttle, not a sparklingsitter. Besides, he reasoned, Megatron would be back by the end of the cycle; that usually tended to snap the grounder out of his occasional bouts of malaise.
About three groons before the scheduled pick-up time, however, he gets a short, terse message on his communications console with his leader's ID tag, saying he'd be staying on the planet for at least another cycle, if not more, and ordering them to remain in low-orbit indefinitely until told otherwise. So now it's just him and the pipsqueak.
A quick skim of his internal sensor data tells him the Dead End hasn't moved from his slab in about twenty groons, and that he's missed three refuelings. Great.
If he had it his way, Astrotrain would have just continued ignoring him. But his own pride works against him in this case. Annoying or not, Dead End is his Passenger. His only one. What kind of a triple-changer would he be if he let him rust away like this? Worse yet, what if they got back to Cybertron and word got out that couldn't even keep one measly Passenger online?
He can't let that happen. Which means it's up to him to snap the twerp out of whatever funk he's in. It shouldn't be a problem for him; sure, he's never done this before, but given that his brain module is three times the size of the average transformer's, he's sure he can figure something out.
Step 1: Get Passenger's Attention.
"Dead End. Hey. Dead End."
No response.
"I know you can hear me, you mangy little petrolrat. Don't ignore me. Get your aft up and say something."
Still no word from the metal lump on the slab.
Okay, okay, fine. Onto another approach: gentle persuasion.
"Say something or I'll transform right now and let you drop a thousand miles." Astrotrain engages his T-cog, not long enough to actually begin his transformation sequence, just enough that all his walls and floors rattle menacingly for a moment. "Maybe getting scraped off the ground will fix that personality of yours."
Still nothing. All that happens is Dead End turning over on his berth to face the other wall, still not saying anything.
So persuasion hadn't worked. Maybe it was time to show a little compassion.
"Are you glitched or something?"
"I'm fine ," the stunt car says through gritted dentae. "Stop bothering me and go make sure we don't hit an asteroid or something."
There we go! Got Step 1 in the bag. Now onto Step 2: Ensure Passenger Needs Are Met.
"Get up and fuel."
"No."
Astrotrain retracts the slab, snapping it into the wall. Dead End transforms before he hits the ground and lands on his tires in car mode, where he then once again proceeds to not move.
" Now ."
There's the distinctive noise of the doors and windows locking.
"Normally I'd be happy to let you go offline, you little slaghead, but so long as you're on my crew manifest, you're my problem."
"So get rid of the problem. Transform, I dare you."
And he is tempted, if only so he can seize Dead End in his fist and shake him 'til his helm rattles. But he has one final card up his plating.
"Fuel right now and I won't talk to you for the rest of the cycle."
A pause, then the click of car doors unlocking. "You're serious."
"I am."
"You won't talk. At all."
"Yes."
"Or slam doors in my face. Or lock me out of consoles. Or collapse the walls and ceiling on me. or—"
"Finish two whole cubes and it's a done deal."
"Fine. Deal."
So, steps 1 and 2 had proven wildly successful. Which leaves only one step left in his little self-designed manual: Step 3, Reach Mutual Understanding.
"Open the fragging door, bolthead!"
After some creative hallway rearrangement, he's locked Dead End in the engine room that doubles as his spark chamber, a place he normally wouldn't let him go, but there's no better place for a little proverbial spark-to-spark. Not to mention, the only way Dead End gets out of this room is by offlining Astrotrain, which would guarantee mutually assured destruction.
Just for this conversation, if only so Dead End doesn't feel quite so small, he's even deigned to create a full-body projection of himself. A courtesy that Dead End is being amazingly ungrateful for, seeing as he's too busy banging on the door.
He already knows the Stunticon won't want to talk about his problems, especially not to him. Which suits Astrotrain just fine.
"When we get back to Cybertron," he begins, and he sees Dead End stiffen. He expected as much. It was obvious to anyone with optics and a functioning processor that the stunt car had burned bridges aplenty to get into his current situation. His depressive episodes had only started getting worse since Megs' declaration that they were heading back soon.
Astrotrain wants to go to Cybertron. His Passenger clearly does not. Hence this compromise.
"When we get back to Cybertron, stay with me."
Dead End turns and looks at him. Directly at him, because of the positioning of the hologram in front of his heavily shielded spark chamber. "...What are you talking about?" He sounds wary, apprehensive.
It wouldn't be worth it trying to explain. The culture of triple-changers is sacred, guarded, the language of their bonds enigma to all but those with a lifetime of experience with them. He doesn't know how to say the words I'm too used to you now. I need you with me and have Dead End really understand what they mean.
"You'll be safe," Astrotrain says instead. He sees the other Decepticon open his intake to say something, "and you'll be kept busy. Useful," he stresses. He'd have to be an idiot to not to recognize how someone like Dead End might fear being discarded and left for scrap once Megatron had his armies and his upper echelon back.
"You don't even like me."
"I don't have to like you to see the worth of keeping someone small around." He allows a smirk, "Gets hard cleaning out the gaps between thrusters."
"And you'll...protect me." Dead End says, slowly. "From the Au— from anyone who tries to slag me."
"Correct."
"Why ?"
And there was the other reason Astrotrain had chosen to do this here.
Slowly, he begins folding back layers of shielding to expose his spark. At first the metal protests, so used to being clamped shut to avoid pain and punishment at the hands of the Other One, but eventually they yield, revealing a spark proportional to his size, big enough that Dead End would need both servos to hold it.
He's not sure why, exactly, his mind jumped to that example for a size comparison.
To Astrotrain's immense relief, he doesn't need to say anything for Dead End to understand the significance of the act. He steps forward, eyes wide with uncharacteristic awe, and allows Astrotrain's holo-avatar to guide him forward.
“What do I need to do?”
Astrotrain takes a moment to get a good look at him, and you know, he doesn’t look half bad like this, bathed in sparklight.
“Give me your answer first.”
Dead End hesitates, gazing into the exposed core of Astrotrain's being. It takes an embarrassing amount of willpower for the shuttle to keep his spark steady. Then he nods. "Yeah. Okay."
Astrotrain's hologram vanishes.
Not a nanoklik later, a thin beam of pure white light shoots out out Astrotrain's spark, stabbing into the seam between Dead End's chestplates. The smaller of the two opens his mouth immediately, probably with a protest or complaint, only for his faceplates to go slack as he no doubt feels the very same thing Astrotrain is: a small piece of the triple-changer's spark transferred to his own, wrapping around it and strengthening it, solidifying the bond between shuttle and Passenger.
Astrotrain had always assumed the act would make his spark feel emptier. He's more than a little surprised to find that the opposite is true.
When it's over, when the last dredges of light have faded and Astrotrain's spark is safely sealed back up again, Dead End is the first one to speak.
"That tingles", he complains, rubbing his chestplates. "You couldn't have warned me?"
Astrotrain tilts sharply upwards to knock him on his aft.