"Not going to screw up and let something happen to you on my watch if I can help it," Ratchet says, curling his fingers in lightly to brush against her back.

"You didn't have to," he says, before he falters and looks away, shifting uncomfortably. "War's over, anyway. We 'won'--whatever that means. Planet's back. But I left... I don't know. It's a long story." He hesitates for a long moment, actually struggling before he blows warm air from his vents on a soft huff.

"My hands failed," he says flatly after a moment. "I didn't get hurt, they just... wore out. Stopped working. By the time the ship lifted off, I could barely hold a glass, let alone operate. I went to go find a new CMO, found some new hands instead, it got complicated. But--yeah. That was why."