Fahir had not actually thought the entire crew would come and sit around the table willingly. He left iris and ren to work out keeping the dolma parcels folded up. He hadn't had any skewers to make the quorn koftas on so he poked one with his fork. Whilst he suspected the spices he'd bought were a little past best they still came through. Fahir added a bit of one of his dolma to his mouthful and stood from the table. He disappeared behind the counter for a moment to the sound of glass shifting. Fahir returned to the table with a new bottle of ouzo and five small metal shot glasses. They hadn't had raki but this was close enough. He poured everyone a measure and slid the shot glasses down the table. "Pulled off a good job. Everyone gets a full three days shore leave at Ceres," he declared before taking his seat again. That was as close to a toast as anyone would get from him.