Tarn takes a drinking straw out of his subspace, delicately sliding it into the opening in his mask.

He grimaces the minute the energon hits his tongue, but swallows without complaint. Immediately, he turns his attention to Galvatron, struck by the audacity of his question. Tarn doesn't miss the warriors gaze on the criminally bare patch of his chassis where his badge once stood. His fingers come up to touch it, shielding it slightly from the critical gaze

“What does it mean to me? I’ve dedicated everything to the Decepticon cause, including my own identity. My entire purpose is to keep it running smoothly , eliminating traitors and useless cowards; weeding the weak willed from the strong. The cause is my very life.”