Arcee had found her perch as they awaited for Prowl's mnemosurgeion. She remembered Chromedome and the bit of banter they had. That was-- fun. Certainly not as fun as the thrill of a fight, but it had been fun. They had met only briefly before at Kimia, two weeks before Chromedome's 'departure' on the Lost Light.

"You never doubted he would, Prowl," she comments from high up on the crags of rock she clung to. Her own gun was settled across a knee, but was in a much more relaxed state than the police mech. She didn't need to be as tense.

"Hey, Chromedome. You feeling well?" Arcee calls casually. Things were coming together.