You simply ignore the order and head for the mess hall. Whatever she says, it's time for breakfast. You're going to have the computer cook you three years worth of bacon and eggs and toast and everything else you can think of. You expect to be stopped on the way there or interrupted while you're eating, but everything goes surprisingly smooth. Nobody is there to accost you while you devour huge bites of food or to save you while you choke to death on an under-check sausage link.