Disclaimer: I don't own Hasbro, they own TF.

Well, I'm still not back at uni yet, but I couldn't help writing this.

I realised last night that I'd never ever written about my most favourite character from all continuities and decided to rectify it. Expect to see many more fics on this sub-faction in the future.

……….

I drove down the dusty road, alone with my thoughts.

Many people think that Triple changers are something special, that we should be admired.

Sure, we have two alt modes, which theoretically makes us the equal of any two standard troops.

But it isn't like that.

Amongst the Decepticon ranks we are something of a joke. The result of a bizarre experiment. Something to be laughed at.

It wasn't meant to be that way.

I don't know who came up with the concept, some up and coming technician just before the Forth Great War. We were designed to be shock troops; an elite unit. We were the prototypes; thousands of us were to follow.

Fortunately for them, war broke out before the concept was fully developed.

There were originally five shells made, but only three were sparked. We found out later that the two stored shells were in a facility overrun by advancing Autobots. We never heard any more about them, but several of the technicians defected to the Autobots and apparently fled Cybertron with a fleet of asylum seekers. Nothing was ever heard from them again.

The three of us were taken in by the Decepticon military arm. However, rather than becoming the stormtroopers we were designed to be, were became nothing more than lab rats for their technicians.

If I'd had half a neural circuit I would have rebelled. Blitzwing did and wiped out the entire security squad called in to restrain him.

Shortly after that Shockwave personally toured the facility, taking Blitzwing in as a commando. Of the three of us, he was the closest to fulfilling what he was designed for. Typical bureaucrats; they obviously know better than our designers do when it comes to what purpose we should fulfil.

After that there was renewed interest in our project. Foundations were laid for further development; a six-member Gestalt team was also envisaged. However, the project was again shelved when it was realised that logistically, three troops could be built in the time that it would take to build one of us.

Something good did come out of the project however; my brother Astrotrain was rebuilt for a transport role, assuming that you can call that 'good'.

For some reason they didn't want me. I heard later on from Frenzy that a psychological evaluation found me to be unstable. Whether it was true or not I don't know, I never could be too sure with Frenzy.

After they took Astrotrain the death knell was sounded for our project. Most of the technicians were reassigned, leaving a skeleton crew behind to study me.

The facility where we were studied was repeatedly shelled by the Autobots. It was feared that it would be soon overrun.

The scientists were evacuated, under orders to abandon all research.

And so I was alone.

I almost wished that the Autobots would come. I tried to escape numerous times, but the facility was so bombed out that all the access corridors were collapsed.

I wandered the facility as long as I was able.

The first thing to give out was my optics; all energon stored in the base was either evacuated with the technicians, in the bombed sectors, or purposely set off.

Finally I collapsed. Blind, deaf. Totally senseless. In the final months I couldn't even move. All I could do was check my power levels and pray to Primus for the end to come.

The next thing I remember was being awoken by falling debris. I thought that it was another air strike.

I soon found out that I'd been offline for six million years. Under order of Megatron, the Constructicons were excavating the facility looking for abandoned technology for use against the Autobots.

Instead they found me.

It was a long, painful recovery. Most bots suffering from energon depletion shut themselves down to conserve what power they had left. I on the other hand used up every last drop. If I wasn't insane before, well, lets just say I fully sympathise with Mixmaster.

Ironically, I was rebuilt as a tanker, my new function was resupply.

I served for a time with Shockwave helping rout the remaining Autobot insurgents.

After that I was finally given to Megatron; it was felt that my 'services' would be better put to use resupplying the front line. That's all I've ever been. Never a warrior, just a slagging mobile snack bar. A busboy to deliver their meal.

Unfortunately my time alone made me withdraw. I used to be close to my brothers, but now I'm bitter and twisted. We barely even greet each other in the halls anymore. The other Decepticons don't even get that much.

Often I've felt like rebelling. To my mind I'd be fully justified. It's apparently a character flaw of our design; both Astrotrain and Blitzwing tried to take over the Decepticons while I was on Cybertron. All they did was tighten our already short leashes and deny me a chance to try for myself.

Yet another stone in the proverbial shoe. Yet another opportunity taken from me before I even had it.

But I still manage to get my own back. Despite the insult that is my life Megatron overlooked one vital fact; resupply is very important to any mobile army.

I know better than most what it's like to starve to near-death.

And so I rebel against my treatment by being 'painfully' slow to deliver their next meal.

Very painful…

"Octane you lousy excuse for road freight, this is Motormaster. The Stunticons need resupply. We'll meet you at these coordinates. Out."
I sighed, life was never easy.

I checked my map. Their position was more than three states away. They must be on long-range recon.

I quickly calculated the time it would take to get there. By air it would be merely a few hours. Of course, by road it would take several days. Assuming I sped.

I checked the speed limit and let up on the accelerator. What's the good of a long road trip if you don't get to enjoy the scenery?

………

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