Repair Depot Shark walks in with the last delivery of the worst wounded, he's a bit crispy himself. "That was not my definition of fun." "Don't even think about it, Jazz." The sharp, authoritative tone that Ratchet barks sends even the medics to attention--which gives some of the less-wounded a chuckle. "What the Pit are you lot standing around for? Get me damage reports on every one and start triaging. We're here to save everyone we can, not lollygag around like you don't know what you're doing--though keep this up and I may question even /that/!" The medics quickly scramble back to work as Ratchet surveys the medical-bay, his scrutinizing gaze eventually resting on Jazz himself.