Eleanor had been hoping for that answer herself. No matter; surely this ship has food somewhere, or everyone aboard would be long dead. No human can eat air and drink sea water.

She removes her helmet, the seals hissing faintly, and gazes around the Promenade. The names are unfamiliar, and though The Drunken Sailor leaps out at her - a bar, surely, and therefore stocked with food - it's Windjammer that arrests her attention. The scents from within...

"There. Hopefully we have no more surprises," says the girl who's about to be confronted with cooked food not in a fucking can for the very first time.