Hate.

He knows that despising an entire race for the actions of a few is horrible, he knows it's not the Autobot way, but Sunstreaker can't help the resentment that bubbles up inside of him whenever he even thinks of humans.

The trauma of being fused with that organic flesh bag, Hunter, its name was if Sunstreaker remembers correctly. But that's the entire problem. He remembers. He remembers the pain, the operating table, being treated like one of Shockwave's experiments, like he's not even a sentient being.

It's all over now, but Sunstreaker can't stop the nightmares in his recharge, the desire to see all humans dead that keeps rearing its ugly helm.

Sideswipe won't stop pestering him to talk to Rung about the experience, but Sunstreaker would honestly rather offline himself.

So, he did what cowards do. He ran. Or, drove, to be more accurate. As fast and far away from the Ark, and any human civilisation as possible.

But there's an itch under his plating. He feels uncomfortable in his alt mode, its a human invention, after all, made to blend in with humans. Sunstreaker only gets a few miles away before it gets too much and he transforms back into his root mode, planning on walking until he can get rid of this horrid feeling in his processor.

Every time he dims his optics, all he sees is the room they forced him to become part organic in, and he wants to purge his tanks every time he thinks about it.

Sunstreaker freezes in his tracks when he hears a high-pitched shriek though, and its instinct that makes him draw his gun and aim it directly at the small, terrified human in front of him.

It's just one stupid little human. If it gets away, it'll tell the other humans, and then the Autobots will be revealed, and then the others will get experimented on too, and Sunstreaker can't let that happen, and his digit tightens on the trigger, right as you step on the human, squishing it instantly.

You've been sent to recruit Sunstreaker as a spy, and it looks like it'll be easier than expected.