No, Rodimus, not progress. Drift's optics widen with a flash, then narrow -- no surprise at all registers on his face, not at the news that Tarn's here. Aftermath had given him a courteous heads up. Drift stares at the weld lines around Rodimus' shoulder and he has no trouble, no trouble at all envisioning what Tarn must have done to him. Rodimus is lucky to be in one piece even now, let alone alive.

"Rodimus -- " Drift's chest suddenly feels tight around his spark, knowing how close Rodimus could have come to having his own spark extinguished. He stays in close, one hand going to the hilt of his sword, suddenly poised to move. "How did you get away? Is he looking for you?"

Drift probably ought to be more worried about himself when it comes to to Tarn, but he'll let the leader of the DJD get to Rodimus over his dead body.