Some people call it fine dining. [He drawls that quip out, a dramatic little cant of his head.] A real, live fish. Freshly caught and sliced up. Delicacy. [Some of the smarmy teasing fades, and he turns toward her - almost headbutting Tali right back with how close she is.]

Do they even have anything you can eat, there?

[Thankfully, Tali is the sort of person to rib him about tracking the Commander's vital signs in a situation where they aren't stressed over her safety. That will probably come later. He hums, low in his chest, glancing at the readouts before turning his attention back to their path.]

Stressed. But no more than any other firefight.

[That is. Probably a good thing, given all their lives lately.]