Ratchet's optics widen slightly as Megatron pulls the tcog out of the compartment, making a face at the mess--but when Megatron's grip tightens, Ratchet reaches out automatically in a flash, gripping Megatron's wrist and jamming a thumb firmly into a mechanism at the base of the hinge of his palm. His grip loosens helplessly and Ratchet's free hand connects sharply with the back of Megatron's hand, sending the tcog up for him to snatch impatiently out of the air as he lets go of Megatron's wrist. He moves immediately to rinse it and check for any critical damage, casting a baleful look over his shoulder.

"In case you haven't noticed, we're not exactly rolling in resources over here. Excuse me if I'm not of the opinion that we can going around crushing potential transplant organs to make a point before we actually have the facilities to be able to make proper new ones should someone who doesn't have a bootheel on the necks of the oppressed actually need something!" He finishes checking--there are a few slight finger-shaped indentations in the outer casing, but no serious damage. Air shunts roughly from his vents in a sigh and he sets the tcog gently down on a countertop, turning back to Megatron to fix him with a full glare.

"You don't need to tell me about the evils of the senate, kid. I worked for them. And I've been running free clinics in slums like Rodion and cleaning up messes like you before anybody knew what a Decepticon was, so you can spare me the damn lecture." He hesitates, wary of getting in arm's reach again and trying not to let it show on his face.

"Are you going to let me finish my repairs or not?"