Scuttlebutt

"Better watch yourself, Commander," CT-8470 called out from the next table over. "Beamer's got a few tricks that could catch even a Jedi off-guard." He had politely declined Beamer's invitation to play. Being an officer, even a lowly corporal, put him in an odd position relative to the squad—winning money off his subordinates would be bad, and getting caught deliberately playing to lose would be worse—but he had agreed to put in an appearance. He had brought a datapad of personnel files to go over while the others played and sipped from a mug of coffee.

Beamer smiled, and from his angle, Pebble could see the backs of his ears turn red.

I wasn't decanted yesterday, Commander. It'll be a low-stakes game. Gotta save credits for Shi. Even though he was in his tunic, he reflexively tapped his shoulder where his rifle usually rested. He started shuffling with a flourish, then dealt to anyone "in."

So! Have you settled on a lightsaber form yet?

Wals found most card games baffling and uncomfortable. Though he was taken to the Jedi temple at a very young age, he had not been an infant. Spending his early youth in a society where speaking a falsehood was a potentially capital offense left a deep and lasting impression. Though he was more accustomed to the galaxy at large, bluffing for a game felt like a casual misuse of a terrible weapon.

He left the clones and Ani to it.