::I don't know for sure. Though I know mechs I've worked with before feel that it is beneath them to be forced to resort to such 'crude devices'.:: And yet 'crude' was a fitting description for plenty of the other things those mechs had done.

::...Ah. I'd hate to see what he'd look like under a blacklight, then,:: he chuckles quietly.

Optimus' only reaction to the message is a tightening of his lips under his mask. The move isn't unexpected, but he didn't think they would try anything so soon.

The credits are only slightly tempting, if only for the fact that it was practically enough to buy your way into a new caste and as well as have a reformat to fit in to that caste on the side.

But he would never condemn another mech to such a fate for his own gain...and he doesn't even believe for a nanoclick that he'd actually get the credits. He'd be a witness, yet another one to get rid of, and one that would be far easier to deal with. Following docilely behind Cliffjumper, he gathered up the message, encrypting it with the codes granted to him, and forwarded it to Mirage. He tacked on a query at the end: did they want to try to set up an ambush? After that, it was up to his employer.