Ratchet shifts, his hands pressing carefully down Fulcrum's torso, but his touch lightens instinctively where he remembers the worst dents were, banged out or not. His optics are unfocused, like he's paying more attention to his sense of touch than his sense of sight.
"And, it was my job to know. I read--" His hands almost stop, but he cycles his vents and keeps going. "There were some reports we intercepted with designs and patient data. I read it." All of it. "My job to interpret the data to know what... who we were up against."
no subject
Ratchet shifts, his hands pressing carefully down Fulcrum's torso, but his touch lightens instinctively where he remembers the worst dents were, banged out or not. His optics are unfocused, like he's paying more attention to his sense of touch than his sense of sight.
"And, it was my job to know. I read--" His hands almost stop, but he cycles his vents and keeps going. "There were some reports we intercepted with designs and patient data. I read it." All of it. "My job to interpret the data to know what... who we were up against."