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Jazz frowns. "You said you'd be back in two weeks to fill us in on what was going on."
The woman looks up at him with a grin, but her eyes are unfocused.
"Yeah, well - two weeks, six months, what the fuck do you care? You're a gian' robot." She slurs the words, only slightly, but enough to be obvious.
"'s mostly your fault, anyways." She raises her right arm, and the sleeve falls to her elbow - it's been replaced by black metal, sleek and inhuman. "Hadda spend eight weeks adjusting ta th' transplant before the docs'd let me on a mission - did a bit more nerve damage soakin' the EMPs than I thought. Which, by the way, fuck you." The mechanical hand morphs into a crude gesture with quicksilver grace as she holds it up like a ward.
"Then, well, you know how it is. There was ten weeks in Bahrain - you dun wanna know about that - and the thing in Kuwait - you do wanna know about that, but I'm not gonna talk about it in a room full of folks - an' then I had ta spend almost six weeks recoverin' from that. An' then it was one thing after another, an' before you know it you've been arrested in Moldova an' are gettin flogged by the secret cops, an' you gotta be broke out - you know."
She gives a pained grin, wavering on her feet. "Anyway, to make a long story short - there's some very angry medics that're probably comin' after me, an' I'd appreciate th' consideration of y' not tellin' em I'm here. An' you -" she gestures at one of the shell-shocked soldiers, who starts at the sudden movement, "grab me a water bottle."
Two staggered steps forward, and she catches herself half-falling on the edge of a trash-can, leans over it, and vomits.
Ratchet makes a concerned noise, starting to step forwards, but one hand rises to wave him off. The choking sounds continue until they turn into dry heaves, then coughing. The soldier hesitantly offers the water bottle, and she takes it, swigs, flushes her mouth, and then chugs the rest of it down before she straightens, still shaking.
"Sorry. Been ridden hard an' put away wet, th' last couple of weeks. An' I may have left A M A. Heavily-sedated, I think they had on th' paperwork." She quirks a grin, but there's pain in her expression. "Na' heavily enough."