CONTINUITY: Transformers: More Than Meets the Eye | IDW Comics
RATING: PG for big dumb robots.
SUMMARY: Crankcase and Dent socialize.
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters are owned by the author, simply written for amusement and the fact that the Scavengers don't receive nearly enough attention as they ought to.
"Now, I don't know if you know anything about piloting a Warfire Battlecruiser, but the fraggin' thing is made to basically hiccup the systems and be a blasted target. I can tell you that we'd have been better off with tiny little escape pods than that piece of scrap. Hell, this ship is more war worthy, and that is saying something!" Crankcase scoffs. There's a pause as he dumps a few pieces of scrap metal into the box being held out to him.
Despite his lack of optics and a faceplate to boot, Dent still seems perfectly expressive in how he tilts his helm and looks terribly amused. "Had to navigate one a few times before. Not fun."
"You get what I mean then. Didn't peg you for a pilot, though."
"Navigator," Dent clarifies with a quiet laugh.
Crankcase gives him a skeptical look, even though Dent can't see it. "What the hell was a navigator doing with miners?"
"I don't know if you've ever worked in a mine, but those are a pain in the aft to navigate."
"All right, point taken."
"Heyyyy!" Before Crankcase can utter a displeased sound, Misfire is immediately invading their workspace, rushing over. "Nobody said that the other guy was awake!"
"You didn't ask," Crankcase grumbles.
Misfire places his hands onto Dent's shoulders. "All right, fine, it's good. All good. I can still make the introductions!"
"Uh, actually..." Dent chuckles. "Crankcase already kinda did. Or, well, he explained all of you in pretty good detail."
"What?" Looking as if he's been physically struck, Misfire takes a step back with his wings drooping. "You introduced us already? Crankcase, you can't do that! I do that! I do the introductions!"
"And from the sounds of it, you're probably Misfire. Which, actually, I still can't get over whether or not I've heard that name somewhere before. Hmm." Sounding no less happy as before, Dent offers with, "I'm Dent. I'd, uh, shake your hand, but I'm a little preoccupied-"
"S'fine," Crankcase mutters. "I found the anti-freeze anyway."
Dent pauses, then says, "Oh. Well, do you want more help? I could-"
"Could do what? You'd just be fumbling the whole way." The box is taken from Dent's hands and shoved into a corner of the cargo bay. "...Thanks anyway."
"Er. All right." Awkwardly, Dent rubs the back of his neck. "Are you sure?"
"I'm fine," Crankcase tells him sternly.
"Well! If that's the case." Misfire gives a slap to Dent's back. "Why don't I give you a tour of the ship? Not that you can see anything or whatever but maybe you'll somehow develop magical abilities that'll let you practically see everything with, I dunno, echolocation or whatever."
"Or I could just get new optics," Dent points out.
"Or that, okay, fine. Ruin my fun, why don't you?"
Dent shrugs helplessly. "Is it okay with you, Crankcase?"
"The Pit do I care?" Crankcase huffs. "Go with him."
"Great! Well, you probably already know, but you're in the W.A.P.'s cargo bay and all of our lame crap is here and we'll start down this way to get to the hallway and then I'll make extra sure to describe everything in detail. You know, if it's interesting," Misfire narrates as he tugs Dent away.
There's a shake of Crankcase's head as he takes the anti-freeze with him. It's dumb, and he knows it, but he found it sometime ago. He just kept piling items in the box and giving himself an excuse. It was almost pleasant, he supposes, to have company just as interested in ships as he is.
It's an Autobot, though. A dumb, cheerful, nice Autobot.
"Whatever," Crankcase sighs to himself as he gets to work to finally get off this damned ice planet.