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<<&&This is Seeker, designated Coruscate. To designated Blindsight. My request is to join local decepticon forces.&&>>

Existence, apparently, was not done with its surprises. At least not at current. Another Seeker, and that was always a fair source of challenge, but the way the message had been worded led him to believe this one was heeding the voice of caution rather than the blind charge of greed. A thinking sort, then, and all the more dangerous for it. Using the same encryption, he sent his reply on a narrower band, carefully twisting the signal through their existing network, rendering it untraceable, and attaching to it coordinates far enough from their base to allow him to meet the other without risk of interference should it prove a trap. <<&&Seeker Coruscate. I am Blindsight, Seeker, Decepticon On-site Commander. Your arrival is... exceptionally well timed&&>> He didn't add what didn't need to be said, though they both knew it perfectly well. <<&&I will meet you at the enclosed coordinates for a mutual debriefing in four breems ((a rough half hour)).&&>>

He nodded briefly at Coldfront's reply, knowing the sighted appreciated such bodily symbols, their reassurance, their commonplace normality. &&It's good to know he keeps duty in mind even during his off-time.&&

<<...sir, if you have a moment, I would like to make a request.>>

Blindsight tilted the smooth melon helm in a meaningless gesture to anyone else. He'd seen the brief flash of arrival of the medic's signature, had followed it until it vanished below ground past common sensor reach. The medic... did not like him. This was a very good start to a proper relationship. Medics were a valuable commodity, but they were not sacred, as so many tended to believe themselves. They served a purpose, no more and no less, and as long as this one remembered that, they would get along famously. So far, so good... but that was never a given. &&Proceed as you see fit, Coldfront.&&

Naturally cloaked, soundless, giving off no tell-tale vibration and leaving himself as little more than another shadow, he slipped back into the building, nothing but more darkness in the shifting mosaic of the same up on the rafters, letting the living noises of those he commanded speak to him as they rarely did themselves. A few grunts, one of the femmes. All of them doing, or so they thought, a surely admirable and thorough job of keeping out of sight and out of mind from their C.O.

No one was ever beyond Blindsight's notice. Not even the dead. In the dying, decaying release of electrons from their frame, even corpses shone with their own intensity to his sensors. <<&&Speak, medic.&&>> His reply was less curt by half than his usual to the medical femme. He watched the idling mechs, wondering if he should give them a good scare, or leave them to their lackabout ways for a little longer, but he was in a good mood, so to speak.

Blood in the horizon would do that to any mech.