Chapter Text
Lock N' Load
One: A Quiet Moment
Wheeljack stood with his servos on his hips, blue optics drifting over the shuttle. He hadn’t waited for a response to any of the messages he’d sent Ultra Magnus. He’s had no desire to actually speak with the mech, and truth be told, if he’d waited for an answer it would have likely turned into an unequivocal no. He’d headed down the hangar immediately after and put a block on the Commander’s comm frequency. He was fully expecting the mech to march in there at some point, but the Wrecker was going to use what ever little time he could.
Reaching up, he dragged a servo across the hull, slowly walking a circuit around it. A visual check revealed nothing looked out of sorts, but he knew from long experience that just because a ship looked okay that didn’t mean there weren’t problems lurking under the hull. Common sense, really, but he’d met his fair share of idiots that would run a ship into the ground and blame faulty manufacturing, faulty parts, or anything but their lack of maintenance.
Wheeljack wondered briefly if the shuttle had a name.
Letting his servo drop, he activated the maintenance panels near the engine block and plunged in without further thought. It was dirty and grimy and the components were caked with old grease and oil. Normal use always resulted in this type of build up and while it was thicker than he would have liked, there was clear evidence it had been regularly serviced before this. If left for too long, the layer of grim would cause the engine to run too hot as heat had no where to escape to. In the cold darkness of space, the extreme differences in temperature between its running and powered down states would slowly deteriorate the structural integrity of the parts. A fractured engine was unusable, and it almost always happened as the ship was powered up or in the middle of intensive maneuvers.
He was almost disappointed he wouldn’t have an excuse to scold the uptight owner, but then, he’d likely comment anyway just to annoy the mech. He worked the worst of the muck off the engine and gave the engine a visual check over much as he had with the hull. He scanned deeper into the parts and worked his digits between gaps to test if anything was loose. The engine was solid and the components were steadfast, however. With nothing amiss, he moved on to checking the fluids. Most of them were at acceptable levels. A few would need to be topped off soonish, and he made a mental note to keep an optic on them.
Before moving on from there, he paused and slowly vented. The restlessness that had been plaguing him was beginning to abate for the first time since he’d found himself tied to the base. Running maintenance like this was familiar. It was routine and welcomed and smoothed his troubled thoughts like nothing else could. This shuttle wasn’t the Jackhammer. He didn’t even care for its owner but he needed this: something to occupy his mind and focus his thoughts. With out a direction, his keen mind was left to stew in the past and it had been dragging him down the entire time. Others had their escapes; their coping mechanisms. This was his, and as the tension bled from his frame, he patted the ship’s hull. He had work to do, and a few surprises to leave behind.
The thought put a smile on his face.