"Don't let me die!  Don't let me die!"

        "Awwww, is poor wittle Thrusty-wusty low on fuel?"

        "Dammit, Octane, I'm dyin' here!  Do your job and help me!" snaps a
rattled Thrust, on his knees in trembling agony.

        "Oh, it's not that easy to get anything from me, Thrusty-poo.  You know
that," sings Octane as he dances around him, giggling with juvenile glee.
"You've got to....sweet-talk me a bit.  Tell me... how much I mean to you."

        Thrust cranes his neck, looking away.  "Where the hell is Tantrum?
He'll give me some fuel," he hopes aloud as laser fire forces his head back
down into the trench.

        "Oh, he's too busy right now to save your tailwings, Thrusty my boy,"
Octane replies with a smirk.  "He's out there doing what real warriors do.
But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?  You flee any
conflict if an Autobot so much as fires back at you.   You're a coward,
Thrust," he adds as the childlike lightness fades from his voice, replaced
with grim venom.

        Thrust tries to lunge at Octane, but , obviously depleted, he falls on
his face, and a cloud of dust puffs up around him.

        "Shut..up...and...save....me...please!"  Thrust gasps, straining to
pick himself up.

        "Come on, that wasn't very nice."  Octane crosses his arms and looks
down squarely at his quivering comrade, tapping his foot.  "I'm waiting."

        "Cripes, Octane, get him fueled and get him fighting!" yells
Thundercracker, positioned nearby and firing several volleys out of the
trench.  "The Autobots are pressing forward.  We need all the help we can
muster, so stop your stupid little game!"

        "This doesn't concern you!" Octane shouts at him.  "Now, Thrusty," he
says, turning back to the heap in front of him.  "Tell me how great I am.
You have 2 seconds."

        Thrust struggles to pick his head up to face his tormentor.  Seeing the
condescension in Octane's eyes and the aggravating smirk on his face, he
tries to spit something out.  "Y..You're...."

        "Too late."  Octane suddenly jams his gun barrel into Thrust's mouth
and maliciously blasts through the other side of his head, sending him doubling
over in a heap against the trench wall, inoperative.

        "Dammit, Octane!" Thundercracker shouts, startled and angered by the
unexpected brutality.  "That was cruel and pointless!  If you can poke your
head up without it getting shot off, you'll see how close we are to being
overrun here.  We can't afford to have you killing our ranks off so you can
get your jollies, you bastard!"

        "Don't you dare tell me how to get my kicks!" Octane spits back.  "He
was a snivelling coward anyway.  He was expendable."

        A brief lull in the sounds of firing weapons and exploding rockets
reveals a sinister little chuckle.  Thundercracker turns to see Skywarp
holding his hand to his mouth as if to quiet himself.

        "Sorry," he says, "but I, uh, thought it was kinda funny."

        A nearby blast sends chunks of rock scattering throughout the trench
and shakes them out of their debate.  The Autobots are upon them.
        "Ho ho ho, boys," Streetwise cracks in his usual slang as he leaps into
the trench.  "The jig is up.  It's time to pay the piper, chumps."   He
straightens up and shoots at the black and purple Decepticon.

        "Don't think so, reject," returns Skywarp, as he dissipates and
vanishes just before Streetwise's fire hits the spot.

        "Damn, I hate that," Streetwise mutters as he looks about, confused.
Octane then grabs him and slams him into the trench wall, causing loose
dirt to cascade over them.  But as he pulls back to punch his Protectobot
prey, he realizes that his arm is being held in place.  Looking up, he sees
a small, orange and gray Autobot looming on the edge, with his arms
extended, and a sadistic glee in his face.

        "Magnetism's a pretty fun thing to play with, ain't it?" Windcharger
snaps as Octane struggles to free himself from the Autobot's control.
Streetwise clears his head, looks up, and notices a flash of light behind his
rescuer.


        "Windcharger!" he shouts.  "BEHIND YOU!"

        Too late comes the warning, as Skywarp materializes and knocks
Windcharger into the trench, breaking his control and freeing Octane's fist
to embed Streetwise into the wall.  The two Decepticons look at each other
proudly, as if to congratulate each other on their magnificence.

        "Hey, did you guys catch that?" Thundercracker asks, referring to
Megatron's inter-Decepticon radio broadcast of the order to retreat.

        "Yeah, I caught it," Skywarp answers.  "'A shame, too.  We could take
these Autochumps.  But hey, he's the boss."  With that, he vanishes again,
this time away from the battle entirely.

        "Well, let's split, Thundercracker," Octane says, as Streetwise falls
to the ground, groggy.  "Unless you want to stay here and kiss Thrust
goodbye."  He transforms into his jet mode and flies off, muttering
something about the stupidity of compassion.

        As the dust settles after Octane's departure, Thundercracker stands
alone in the trench with two semi-conscious Autobots and Thrust's carcass,
slumped against the wall and twisted uncomfortably against the rocks.  He
looks over his dead comrade for a moment, remembering his life.

--- *What a horrible waste.  Sure, he was kinda loud and obnoxious, but you
had to see that he was just this scared guy trying to be big and
impressive... doing the best he could to live up to Decepticon standards.
Now here he is, destined to corrode in some nameless ditch for eternity,
unless the Autobots scrap him and salvage his components for later use.
'He was expendable.'  All that time he fought with us and now I'm the only
one of his 'friends' that will even consider reflecting on his life, let
alone take the time to do it.  Sometimes, everything seems so wrong.*---


        Windcharger's groan of consciousness shakes Thundercracker from his
thoughts.  He slowly gathers himself and transforms to retreat, as he was
commanded.

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