"Well yes, the commissary is q-quite poor on selection."

Mirage snorted a laugh, resting his chin back down on Cliffjumper's helm after he stopped moving around. What he wouldn't give to be able to buy even a hint of the resources he once had access to...

"The weather is an enemy easier bested when one is prepared." He cast a glance toward their rushed tarp protection at the door - which was still holding fast, thank Primus.

"In our current s-state, we simply have to do our best."

And hope that no Decepticons showed up to finish the job.