Megatron picks up the crate, the badge itself tentatively in hand, and the memories of both Ratchet and Drift's battered and beaten bodies still fresh in his mind.

He looks at Tarn's damaged frame, the re-opened wound on his abdominal plating, and the pain clear in his eyes. A small part of him considers it. The little nagging feeling that berates him for not slaughtering Sentinel when he had the chance.

He meets the warrior's optics and finally makes up his mind.

"No."

Megatron takes a few steps back towards the door. He was done here.