Pharma's head snaps to attention at the first word, his own optics widened just slightly as Ratchet appears. They jump from his face to his hands (his hands, he can't help but add, his own fingers twitching slightly at the thought) to his crutches, then back to Ratchet's expression.

"Ratchet." His voice is a manufactured sort of pleasant, forcing a smile that looks more like a sneer. "Looks like you've seen better days."