"Either we may be some use to them, or they're worried we might be of some use to someone else and they don't want us wandering around outside their pleasantly insulated but unnervingly pristine medical-slash-military base. I think if a bunch of people, some of whom were clearly military or ex-military, showed up out of nowhere in front of my front door, I'd probably want to keep an eye on them." Ratchet rubs tiredly at his face, feeling weirdly drained on top of flushed and shaky from being out in the freezing cold then suddenly thrust into the relative warmth of the medical bay. His sinuses feel strange and he sniffs, then tries not to make a face. Normal human biological functions that he's definitely been experiencing his entire life, right, nothing to see here.

"Either way, it beats the hell out of being outside I guess, at least for now."