"I wish I could say no," she responds, her own gaze falling to the drink in her hand. "But... we both know the answer." Closing her eyes, she suddenly wished she hadn't asked. The unspoken response was enough to make her annoyed with herself, and maybe a little depressed at the state of affairs that seemed to be true, no matter which Cybertron you were on.

Her expression brightens a little when asked about her teacher. "Maybe. His name's Ironhide, and he's our weapons specialist. Used to work with the security division before things went south." Was that... yes.

She was looking wistful.

"He taught me how to use my size and speed to my advantage in combat... I never fared well in prolonged conflicts, so he instructed me how to strike quickly and decisively, and leave just as fast." She gave a shrug as she took another drink. "He's half the reason I'm alive any more."