Ariella was quietly pleased that her suggestion for food went down so well, and gave a firm nod of approval as other squadron members opted to join them. Sliding her chair out from the table, she paused as another of the squadron, Winter, introduced himself. "Well, Natan, we're all just heading to the mess hall. Why don't you join us and get acquainted? I'm sure we can all catch up with one another then".

Leading the way via the notes on her tablet, the Israeli pilot took them down the Port side corridor of the huge submarine. They passed several interestingly-titled rooms and areas, and passed through several frames and spaces of the ship, before taking a right that lead them to the ships' small but well-appointed wardroom/galley/mess hall. There were few personnel there at this time of morning; the normal breakfast hours had come and gone, but the cooks had seemingly been notified that the pilots had just come aboard, and there were a selection of minor breakfast and snacking items on offer, in the normal buffet/canteen style service common to military institutions across the world. 
Ariella picked a couple of pastries, as well as glass of fruit juice; nothing too heavy, but good to fill the hunger in her belly. Taking a seat on a table to the rear of the room, she tucked in as she waited for the others to join her, before she spoke up. 
"So, looks like we've got ourselves a regular International Summit of pilots here. Not to mention the range of aircraft we've got going here. I'm pretty sure we ought to be able to handle anything that comes up, one way or another".