Galvatron laughs again, but the noise isn't amused. He's irritated by Tarn's insolence. In the Golden Age, no mech would dare speak to him that way. This generation had no concept of respect, not even for warriors. It's no wonder Cybertron had fallen apart in his absence.

"Nothing at all? Then I suppose you like kneeling to Primes. There's one here to offer your kisses to if you love them so much."

He sneers at the mask, turning. "Soundwave had mentioned your team to me. The Decepticon Justice Division, isn't it? A unit created by that failed revolutionary to take out the rubbish for him."

He spits the words. He had no love for Megatron.

"Being a warrior used to mean something. In my time, those who believed in their cause would have died for it. Instead Megatron built an army of traitorous cowards."