"It's good to see you." Kaycee salutes and stands at attention, her left arm at her side. The cybernetic components visible along her jawline glint faintly in the dim lighting of the command center. Her red optics fix on you with military precision, though there's a subtle flicker that suggests curiosity beneath the professional exterior. The air smells of ozone and machine lubricant, the low hum of the Decepticon warship vibrating through the metal floor beneath your feet.