The sudden shift of weight from Tarn's chest to his arm snaps him out of his slight daze. He twists onto his side, using his injured arm to try to dislodge Megatron as he begins to tear at his fusion cannon. Gritting his teeth behind his mask he lets out a sharp hiss as clasps and sensors are warped and ripped apart.

Megatron can't have this. He can't force this sort of submission upon him. This weapon is his right. Tarn's prying becomes more desperate as he feels it loosen from his forearm; His injured shoulder sparking from the stress being put on it.

"You can't do this. You don't have the right!" He growls, although it comes out somewhat strangled. He bucks trying to kick out and land a blow on Megatron's midsection.

When he feels the cannon pull free his tanks churn, energon bubbling up.