Arcee releases the front of his jacket but she looks no less furious for it, her avatar's hands clenching into fists. She knows she shouldn't engage Starscream -- not here, not now, not without backup, when their forces are so down to the wire -- but it's tempting. It's hard not to relish the idea of punching a few holes in his plating.

"I'd say bring it on if I thought you were actually anywhere near here," she snarls. "But that doesn't seem likely. Besides, if I scrap you now, you'll never get back to Megatron. So you run on home and pass along the message for me, Starscream -- and I promise I'll save some blaster fire for you later."