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*it stands ups straight, a sheath on its back alongside what appears to be a shotgun with a pistol grip. The jet's cannon slides forward on its wrist, and two rocket racks slide up over its shoulders. It begins searching, and speaking in a strange language*
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*Gasps* *Replies in perfect cybertronian* [i]How dare you. That's a rude to say.[/i]
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[spoiler]he's communicating to an unknown source[/spoiler]
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I see. So you weren't talking to me, or Felix. Nevertheless, I must go. *Leaves*