"No, I— I don't need a biologist." He tosses the connector down, gently. Its landing rattle is benign. "I just need time."

Funny how that can still be true, even in this liminal situation they occupy—and he did it to himself this time, so he can't even be mad about it. A huge floating garbage pile sounds accurate, he thinks on a delay, without any concrete idea as to what it's meant to represent. Everything, maybe. Just things in general.

He certainly is in some kind of mood. Guilty and cranky.

After a moment, he sighs softly. His voice settles low.

"No one forced this on me, anyway. I offered. Archimedes is sending a replacement, so there will be a machine in the command room either way... maybe two, if I can fix this one. I'm just... trying to beat the delivery," he adds, with a one-shoulder shrug. "Just because."