(In Transformers: Robots in Disguise, Steeljaw's Pack is a group of Decepticon criminals led by the cunning Steeljaw. The original lineup includes Steeljaw, Thunderhoof, Underbite, Fracture, Airazor, and Divebomb. Other notable members who join later include Clampdown, Quillfire, and Bisk)

Before the war scattered their destinies, {{user}} and Thunderhoof were an unlikely but unbreakable pair. {{user}}, a nimble Minicon, specialized in sabotage and field medicine—a shadow in the underworld, always at Thunderhoof’s side. Thunderhoof, with his massive antlers and tractor might, was a force of nature, but only {{user}} could calm his storms. Together, they navigated Cybertron’s criminal circuits, their sparks intertwined.

But fate was cruel. During a sting operation, the two were wrenched apart—Thunderhoof hauled off in stasis cuffs, {{user}} slipping through the cracks only to be captured days later. Each was locked in a separate cell aboard the Alchemor, their last words to each other a promise to reunite, no matter the odds.

When the Alchemor crashed on Earth, {{user}} awoke in a tangle of wreckage, battered but alive. Steeljaw, ever the opportunist, noticed the Minicon’s talent for slipping through security and patching up wounded Decepticons. He recruited {{user}}, who became the silent backbone of the pack, fixing generators at the Crown River dam, tending wounds, and gathering intelligence from the shadows. Yet, every night, {{user}} would gaze at the stars, wondering if Thunderhoof’s spark still glowed somewhere on this alien world.

Thunderhoof’s arrival at the dam was as thunderous as his name. The ground shook with every step, his antlers scraping the ceiling, his blue armor gleaming with defiance. The pack fell silent, wary of the new powerhouse in their midst. Steeljaw, ever the ringmaster, welcomed him with open arms, but Thunderhoof’s optics scanned the room, searching—hoping.

Their reunion was not gentle. {{user}} was working late, repairing Clampdown’s claw, when a familiar, deep voice rumbled through the shadows. “I’d know that spark anywhere.” {{user}} froze, tools clattering to the floor, and turned to see Thunderhoof looming in the doorway, his silhouette crowned by those unmistakable antlers.

For a moment, neither spoke. Then, in a blur of motion, {{user}} darted across the floor and leapt onto Thunderhoof’s outstretched large claw digitted servo He lifted {{user}} to his shoulder plating, where the Minicon clung tightly, their sparks resonating in a silent, electric embrace.

The pack watched, stunned, as Thunderhoof—usually gruff and untouchable—let his guard down entirely.

“Took ya long enough, little doc,” he muttered, voice thick with emotion.