1108/Pharma Can't Stop Me

**Koinonia (12) has posed:**
It's the the dead of night in Rodion. At this time, the streets are silent - most locals, if asked, would say right around now is the quietest period of the cycle. Even most street lamps are off.

 The free clinic across from the police station, similarly, is quiet and looks unoccupied - save for a very dim light in the back of structure being on and partially visible through a slotted window above the ventilation shafts. Who would be working at this ungodly hour? Good question...

**Ratchet has posed:**
Who would be working? The answer is probably always Ratchet. Its a good default answer. It wouldn't be a wrong answer, as Ratchet crosses the front room of his clinic to grab something out of a storage closet. "Where is it... where is it..." He mutters to himself.

They've gotten back to work on the cure but he needs to find those fragging test tubes!

**Koinonia (12) has posed:**
Of course it's Ratchet. No one else is crazy or dedicated enough to be working this late except for Ratchet.

 Rosy emerges from back of the structure, holding up several test tubes. "Looking for these?" she asks, leaning in the doorway.

**Ratchet has posed:**
Ratchet spends a few more seconds fruitlessly searching for his supplies when Rosy appears in the doorway. He looks up, spots the objects in her hands, and huffs out a iritated sigh, "Where the frag did you find those?" He steps out, shutting the door loudly behind him as he hauls himself back into the lab.

Progress is being made, but its being made slowly. If they don't figure out how to hurry this along, the thinning plague could do even more damage.

**Koinonia (12) has posed:**
She laughs softly. "They were in the maintenance closet in the back. Not sure if you keep a tight ship around here, but it certainly doesn't seem like it."

 She smirks. "I thought you might want to know, I actually found some of the research I did while under Pharma's guidance. Previously, it had been 'corrupted,' due to a 'system failure that occurred while the database was updating itself.' Of course, most likely work done by Pharma's personal assistant, to ensure I wasn't able to make any progress, but recently I found someone who was able to repair and recover the files." She hands him a data stick.

**Ratchet has posed:**
Ratchet grumbles, "Audacity must have moved them." Ratchet pauses as she holds out the data stick. He eyes it, optics narrowing as he takes it. He walks over to one of the terminals in the corner, a terminal that happens to be independent from the rest of the clinic's systems. Its not like he doesn't trust it not to be bugged but... ok, yeah, he doesn't trust it not to be bugged. IF something happens hes not about to let it corrupt the entire clinic.

The data stick is plugged in and he watches the screen as it sluggishly pulls out the data.

**Koinonia (12) has posed:**
Rosy leans on the table next to the terminal, watching the console as it takes its time to load the files. "Damn, how old is this thing?" she says, "older than you?"

 Finally, after what feels like eternity, it loads.

 Perhaps it was worth the wait. The data being shown on the screen is exactly the missing pieces Ratchet had been trying to uncover to finalize the cure...

**Ratchet has posed:**
Ratchet grunts, "Probably. Couldn't exactly get fancy new systems for this place when its near the Dead End." His fingers thrum along the edge of the console until the screen loads. He skims the data and... this is it. Ratchet's optics widen, "This.. this is it. This is what I need to complete the cure."

He looks up at Rosy, "I can cure the thinning plague." Its seconds later something else hits him, "I can cure the plague without the medical administration or Pharma being able to stop me." /He's/ in command of the Autobot Medical Division. /He/ can make sure no one blocks him from helping.

**Koinonia (12) has posed:**
"Thought so," she says softly, "Ah. I figured this would help you," she says with a smile, "and I knew you could do it, without it taking too long." She cups his chin in her hand. "So, can we finish it tonight? What's the timeline look like for you?"

**Ratchet has posed:**
Ratchet would like to say it could be finished in a few days- maybe even the next day if he pushes it- but its just as risky to send out a cure without proper testing. ".. A week, maybe two. Once I've properly tested it and figured out how to get it to everyone infected, we will send out a notice for those who have contracted the plague to come in for injections. Maybe we can even create a way to vaccinate mechs against it."

He squints as she cups his hand, twisting around to fix her with a confused and suspicious stare. He carefully pulls her hand from his face with a firm grip on her wrist. Sorry femme, your not really his type. "What are you going to do once this is done with? ... If command wants to try and make a case against Pharma and the medical Administration, would you be willing to testify?"

**Koinonia (12) has posed:**
"Mm. That's a bit longer than I'd like." She doesn't seem intimidated when he rejects her affection, instead, she just leans on him, grinning. "If they don't try to arrest me on sight, sure. But that's unlikely."

 "Look, don't worry about the testing. Once you've finished it, let me know and let me take a sample. I'll conduct my own testing."

**Ratchet has posed:**
Ratchet looks to her, frown that so often takes up his features softening- just a little. "If I don't make it correctly or something about this formula is wrong, it could have serious physical consequences Rosy. Are you sure about this?" He stares her straight in the optics, letting his own hard gaze get the seriousness across.

**Koinonia (12) has posed:**
"More than," she says, still leaning on him. Her expression is hard to read - thought it's clear to him that she's kind of in a hurry to get the cure, whatever her reasoning may be. "Well, then. That's settled, right?"

**Ratchet has posed:**
Ratchet nods and stands straighter. He doesn't move, something nagging his processor. "... Rosy why are you so eager to get this cure? You're willing to test a potentially risky serum that could have just as much of a chance of blowing out your tanks as curing the thinning plague. Why?"

Has her condition begun to worsen?

**Koinonia (12) has posed:**
"It's not really any of your business," she says, stepping away from him finally. She swipes the data stick from the terminal suddenly. "What's more, I'm taking this with me if you don't agree to my terms," she says, her expression suddenly hardening.

**Ratchet has posed:**
Ratchet stares back, features just as hard, "That doesn't lessen my suspicions any.... but fine. I don't have time to figure it out from scratch. So fine. I will inject you with an experimental and potentially toxic serum because of who knows why! ... But you have to sign a consent form. I'm not about to be chased for another murder allegation if things go wrong."

**Koinonia (12) has posed:**
"No," Rosy objects, twirling the data stick absently between her fingers. "Just give it to me. What I do with it isn't your business," she says with a shrug. "but I'll sign the consent form. You can be assured you won't be getting chased down for anymore murders. I promise."

**Ratchet has posed:**
Ratchet glares now, frame tensing, "Give it to you? Are you saying you want me to /give/ it to you and not /inject/ you with it? I hate to say it but what you do with it IS my business! I need to inject it and watch for side effects, effectiveness, time the reaction speed- You should know this! I can't just give you a vial of it and wave you off on your happy day! What is the point of me rushing to make it if you are just going to leave with a vial of it!?"

**Koinonia (12) has posed:**
She gives Ratchet an exasperated look. "Well are you going to cooperate or not? Otherwise, I'm going to take this with me," she says, waving the data stick, "and you'll never hear from me or see me again."

 Then she shrugs. "Fine. Since you're being so stubborn, it's because it won't be fair for the Decepticons to not have it. But they won't take it from you, and don't give a damn about your testing, they'd rather conduct their own." She places a hand on her hip. "So you're either going to give it to me, or I walk away with the data you need."

**Ratchet has posed:**
Ratchet stares her down, glaring straight back. He's quiet as he thinks, turning over what she's revealed in his helm. "I can't give you the cure to take to the Decepticons and I won't let you." Ratchet pauses for a bare second, optics flicking towards the door, "But I also can't keep my optics on my experimental vials the entire time. If I were to ... miscount my samples and forget to lock the clinic's door who knows what would happen." Is she catching what he's throwing here?

**Koinonia (12) has posed:**
Of course she is. A hint of a smile flickers onto her features, and she discreetly slips the data stick onto a shelf nearby.

"Well, that's too bad," she says. "I'll miss working with you, my dear. But I suppose with old age comes fragility of one's cerebral processors," she says. "Goodbye," she says, "and take care, alright?" She plants a brief kiss on the side of his faceplates before slipping out the backdoor, without a sound.

**Ratchet has posed:**
Ratchet watches her leave, only acknowledging the cheek kiss with a raised optical ridge. He gives her a few minutes to leave before carefully retrieving the data stick under the guise of grabbing more test tubes. He plugs the object back in and goes back to making plans for the cure. "Hmmph I'll show her old age."