"OUT OF MY WAY, FOOL!" screams Motormaster, slamming Thundercracker
against the wall.  "Do not DARE attempt to impede me!"

	The Stunticon commander storms by, dropping Thundercracker to the
ground and leaving a cloud of hate in his wake.  Thundercracker picks
himself up, scowling and grumbling about how those who can't even fly have
no reason to be so full of themselves.  The quest for a confidant
apparently does not end here.
After pretending to shoot Motormaster in the back, Thundercracker turns and
continues down the corridor in search of someone to voice his thoughts to,
someone to get some advice from, or maybe someone to slap him and tell him
he's nuts.  He runs down possibilities in his head.


	--*Come on, come on, THINK!  The Predacons are out, Octane and
Skywarp are out, Blitzwing, no, Astrotrain... no, no Insecticons,
Constructicons...?  Scavenger?  No, he's too squirrelly.  Dirge, no,
Ramjet, no, Frenzy, Rumble, hell no.  Combaticons.... Hey, Swindle!  No no
no, he's too devious.  No Motormaster, but....*--


	The idea strikes Thundercracker, and he is awash with joy.  The
only Decepticon he can think of who may actually even consider the validity
of the thoughts running around in his head.  He immediately turns around to
catch up to Motormaster, who is not hard to find, due to his heavy, echoing
stomps.

	"Motormaster!  Motormaster, I-"

	"AWAY WITH YOU!" comes the booming response.  "I have matters to
attend to, but I can ALWAYS make time to PUMMEL a NUISANCE!"

	Thundercracker restrains an urge to deck this pompous slave to
gravity and continues.

	"Just, uh, one quick question, o Heralded Master of Motors.  Where
are your Stunticons now?"

	"I suggest you DROP that tone before I GOUGE OUT your vocorder and
shove it through your OPTICS!" Motormaster bellows back, staring him down.
To that, Thundercracker kneels in reverence and apology, the sarcasm of
which is lost on the Stunticon leader.

	"That's better," Motormaster says, leveling his sword at
Thundercracker's throat.  "My Stunticons are reporting to Onslaught for
their orders, as I suggest you do.  Now BEGONE!"

	Once again, Motormaster thunders down the hall, tempting
Thundercracker to actually blast him in the back.  But he decides against
it, realizing it would do more harm than good.


	--*I'm amazing myself.  I'm actually starting to get a pretty good
handle on these violent urges I've been instilled with throughout my life.
This is definitely not ideal Decepticon behavior.  I've gotta find him.
The one mechanism I know that just might possibly understand all of
this...*--



	Thundercracker maneuvers through the hallways of Decepticon
headquarters, racing towards the War Room.  Once there, he opens the door
into the massive place and looks around.  The Stunticons are gathered
around Onslaught, the Decepticons' strategic wizard, as he encodes their
assignments into their memory circuits.  Shockwave is also present, sharing
the workload by encoding plans into Astrotrain, Blitzwing, Dirge, and
Ramjet.  Soundwave is doing some computer work, but he takes time to glare
menacingly at Thundercracker's entrance.  And the entire room has the cold,
foreboding feel of the ruthless Decepticon command.  No doubt Megatron is
nearby.

	Thundercracker moves towards Onslaught, but Shockwave's cold
monotone beckons him.

	"Thundercracker, report to me," the one-eyed goliath commands.  "I
have your instructions."

	Thundercracker stops and glances nervously towards the Stunticons,
then murmurs acceptance of the order and walks towards Shockwave.  As he
moves closer, Ramjet disengages from his encoder and smirks toward
Thundercracker.

	"Looks like we're teammates in this one, Thunder!" he says.  "See
you on the battlefield!"

	Thundercracker responds with some false joviality and hesitantly
picks up the free encoder, a long, snakelike device extending from a nearby
control panel.  This is never a pleasant experience.  Shockwave takes the
encoder from his hands, flips open a section of Thundercracker's forehead,
and proceeds to gently place the wide, bell-shaped end into its
corresponding space in Thundercracker's neural circuitry.  A flash of light
envelopes his optics, and he stands inert for a period of time he doesn't
know the length of.  Finally, the inputting is done and Thundercracker
gratefully disengages from the encoder.  Immediately, he looks towards
Onslaught.  Breakdown and Dead End have disengaged and are waiting for
their comrades.

	Thundercracker radios a message into Dead End's head, and the
sullen Stunticon glances towards him quizzically.  Thundercracker moves
towards the door and discreetly motions for Dead End to follow him, and he
obliges.  Once outside, the two of them walk for a while, with
Thundercracker looking about nervously and Dead End asking questions and
being shushed a lot.  Finally, they reach a room in a generally unused
section of the base, and Thundercracker starts talking.

	"Dead End, I need someone to talk to, and given the way you think
of things, I have a feeling that you're the only being in this entire army
who might even consider that what I'm about to tell you could be valid."

	"Wow.  I feel honored," Dead End says, half-sarcastically.  "Spill
it, Thunder."

	"Lately, Dead, I've been feeling that everything... all of this
"hey let's go beat things up and kill stuff" business... most of what we're
fighting for... I've been thinking that it's all pretty much pointless
hogwash."

	"Yes, I know," Dead End concurs.  "Although it's fun every once in
a while to smash the hell out of somebody, generally I'd have to agree with
you that we aren't really accomplishing anything worthwhile."

	"Great, I knew you could see my points," Thundercracker says
enthusiastically.  "Now here's the kicker.  Whereas you, no offense here,
seem to complain and bitch a lot about it all, I'm thinking about taking it
a step further.  I'm thinking about getting out of this gang of roughnecks
altogether."

	"Are you serious?"

	"Yes!  Think about it.  We're definitely not happy here, right?"

	"Well, yeah, but-"

	"So what is it that keeps us here?"

	"Megatron's fusion cannon."

	"Come on, now, Dead.  You can't live in fear forever!  Comes a time
where you have to take control of your own life and decide what's best for
you.  How much longer can you stand existing simply because Megatron hasn't
gotten mad enough to kill you yet?"

	Dead End ponders this for a moment.  "What.... what would we do?"

	"Well," Thundercracker responds, "I don't know about you, but I
think I want to try and right some of the immense amount of wrongs I've
done to beings all across the universe.  I want to make any amends that I
can for the suffering I've inflicted throughout my past.  I'm thinking.....
I'm thinking the unthinkable."

	"You don't mean...."

	"Exactly.  Why not?  If everything we do here is wrong, maybe our
opposite numbers are doing what's right.  Besides, aren't there some people
around here that you just want to beat some sense into?"

	"Hmmmmm," Dead End wonders.  "That bastard Motormaster."

	"YES!  I'll help you take a crack at him!"

	"Maybe you're right, Thundercracker," Dead End says hopefully,
with more enthusiasm than he has shown in ages.  "Maybe we should... wait,
of course....  I can't."  Thundercracker feels the sudden downward spiral
in Dead End's emotional state.

	"Why?  What's the problem?"

	"Think about it, Thunder.  I'm a Stunticon.  Member of a group that
shares mental bonds with each other.  As long as I'm around, the rest of
the Stunticons could track me anywhere.  I.... I would be of no value to
the Autobots."

	"I'm sure we could find a way-"

	CLICK!

	Thundercracker freezes in terror.  The familiar sound of a
transformation comes from behind him, and he knows his treason plans have
been discovered.  He spins around quickly to face the spy, and sees the
last being he ever wanted to see.  Thundercracker knows that if his face
was capable of expression, Soundwave would be grinning ear to ear.

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