The captain has found that the mess hall is a good place to observe the new arrivals, to try and get an idea of their demeanor, to see who is likely to be a troublemaker. The best part is, most of them have no idea she's the captain, so she can get a more natural read on them--even troublemakers tend to be on their best behavior when an obvious authority figure is around, especially when you're stuck in a giant metal can in the vacuum of space.

She watches a broad-shouldered man with sandy blond hair examining his plate of gagh with a degree of morbid fascination, and when he pushes it away with an arbitrary comment intended for anyone who's listening, Imania smiles a little.

"Actually, Lieutenant Oronar is a fairly good cook," she says, pulling up the chair across from the newcomer and peering down at the plate of squirming food. "If the replicators continue to misbehave, we may have to request his services. They tell me gagh is an acquired taste, but... it's one I never managed to acquire, myself."