Drift can think of few things that are more mortifying than a Decepticon warlord all but broadcasting to a room full of dozens, if not hundreds, of people that Drift has some kind of dark, secret past. He never meant to deceive anyone, but what's important is what he does now, isn't it? No one here knows about the Great War, or the Decepticons, or Deadlock -- do they really need to know? He's doing good now. The last thing he really needs is to lose the trust of the Legionnaires, not when he's only just starting to establish it.

He narrows his optics at Megatron, hands tensing into fists, but he doesn't reach for any of his swords. For the first time since his arrival, he's painfully aware of the scratched plating on his chest where his Autobot badge had been. Not his any longer. He doesn't rise to the bait this time, or at least he tries not to -- if he starts on the defensive about his past, it's only going to make him look worse in front of anyone who's paying attention. Which...yeah, people definitely are.

"Do you really want to do this here, Megatron?"