"I don't have to know you," Arcee says, spitting the words. "You know damn well your reputation, Starscream -- I think you'd be hard-pressed to find an Autobot out there who wouldn't dance on your corpse. But since you asked, yeah, you know what? It is personal. You've taken the sparks of too many of my soldiers for it not to be. So you can tell Megatron that he's not just dealing with anyone here. He's dealing with the commander of the Autobots, and you can tell him she doesn't forgive easily."

She's never embraced her title, her newfound responsibility until now, not like this. There's no sense in keeping her identity a secret, not now. He should know who he's dealing with. This is bigger than her, anyway -- Starscream has killed too many Autobots, too many of her people, even though the starkest memory among them is Jetset's. Arcee's long since mourned Jetset, but that doesn't mean she wouldn't take Starscream down if she's given the opportunity.