The scenario sounds dreadful, quite honestly. A bunch of grease-smeared, noisy apes jabbering around the dinner table. Something, perhaps, akin to his Malcassairo days. Although one thing does catch his attention.

"Missions? That would be your cargo deliveries, correct?" the Master asks, really only half-paying attention as he continues to survey the room. He couldn't imagine how much of an adventure something like that would be, personally, but then he isn't human.