"Stuff," Mirage huffs, grumbling. While the touch is nice -warm- he decides he doesn't particularly like the feel of someone else rummaging through his 'stuff'. It's letting the cold into his subspace and it makes him shiver.

"Lots of mission...stuff. Things. Very important."

He closes the pocket as soon as Cliffjumper retrieves the cubes, wiggling around to try and get his hands on one.

"Good. We can refuel." Mirage's engine already feels tired. He could use it.