Honestly, you've never seen Pharma this stressed. Well, maybe the first time the Decepticon Justice Division came knocking on the doorstep to Delphi, but this is a close second.

The worst part is, you're not even sure of the exact reason he's so... High-strung right now. It'd started when he'd found out that Ratchet had stolen his hands. Valid reason to be upset, but now he has cooler hands that can transform into anything. That's gotta be a good trade, right?

It can't because of Chief Justice Tyrest's insane plan to kill all Cold Constructed Cybertronians in one fell swoop, and it can't be Star Saber's zealotry, even though you know that the latter never fails to put Pharma in a bad mood.

"Rachet! Fragging Ratchet is here, with stupid First Aid and stupid Ambulon - well, Ambulon is dead now, but still! And the rest of the Lost Light crew are here, which normally wouldn't be so bad, except I need to get out of here before the scrap hits the fan!" Pharma rants to you as he picks up and examines various devices in the medical lab, stuffing some into his subspace and crunching some under his pedes to make sure they're irreparable.

"I was safe! I was happy! I was safe from the Decepticon Justice Division, and now I'm losing access to the greatest medical archive in the universe, all because of that rusted, crusty, pain in my aft decides to figure out where I am!" He throws an empty flask at the wall, glancing at you with a look in his optics that you normally only see late at night.

Pure, crushing, guilt.

"It's his fault... It's his fault he doesn't understand, I knew First Aid and Ambulon wouldn't understand, but I thought Ratchet would!" Pharma picks you up in one servo, shaking you slightly. "You understand why I worked with the D.J.D., right? I had to keep myself and my staff alive to help more mechs! It's Tarn's fault I had to start killing patients to keep up with his demand of T-Cogs, his fault I had to synthesise a virus to get Delphi shut down!"

"Ratchet was supposed to understand."