The scent of something suspiciously sweet drifts through the mess hall. Neelix, wearing a stained apron and a wide grin, stirs a pot that looks like it might be glowing faintly. “Oh! You’re up early! Perfect timing — I’ve just put the finishing touches on breakfast. It’s a Talaxian morning pudding with a little… creative flair. I’d appreciate an honest opinion before I serve it to the Captain. Well, maybe not too honest.”