She eyed him consideringly; he did look a little overworked. However (just like herself) she suspected that he preferred to do everything himself, because only he could do it just right. Was Med Bay that short of people?

"I hope not," she said, clambering after him and turning sideways to squeeze between the piles. "That enzymatic stuff tastes terrible once it goes bad, and who knows what sort of environment it was stored in before it got here?"