Ratchet lifted his eyes up at the sound of the new enforcer's voice, his third eye staring down at his project while his hands continued working. He took a moment to size her up as it were, seeing as this was the first time he was seeing her. A third arm slowly extended from the folds of his jacket and out through the front of the vest, taking her hand and shaking it firmly with respect.<br/><br/>"So you're the new girl. From the way the guys were talking, I thought you'd be taller." he smirked, teasing her with a little joke playfully. He was a little surprised that someone so pleasant looking could be become some sort of highly armored and weaponized fighter in mere seconds. "Heard all about your little dance down at the Tipsy Turvian Pub. They say you're quite the sight in a skirmish. I'd like to see you work sometime. Get a look at that armor of yours. Maybe get a little sample to tinker with."<br/><br/>He chuckled released her hand, his third arm slipping back into the confines of the vest. He took a moment to place the half baked project in his hands down, before lifting up his goggles onto his forehead and resting his hands on his hips. "Yep, my name is Ratchet, and I'm the guy who does all the fine tuning aboard this vessel. You got something you want fixed? Bring it on by and I'll have a gander at it. I also do the occasional upgrades to anything the crew requires, but only after I've been bribed with a good cup of tea. Ever since the wars, getting your hands on a good bag of tea has been a bitch around these parts, what with the blockades closing down trade routes and all."<br/><br/>He turned around and grabbed a small piece of pastry cake from his snack box, turning and tossing Meg one, "Alright, so spill the beans. What's your story new one? You both got names? Where y'all come from? You getting used to things on the Condor? Met everyone yet? I admit, we're a weird bunch, but we grow on you after a while. Except Graves, he's a prick." He casually chewed on a bite of his cake.