"Oh no," Ben says, his full attention on the chef to distract from hand signals, "we're sorry. It's just so hard to find good Deychin tea in this sector. We didn't mean to make a fuss."

The chef nods, his uncertainty growing. "I'd like to know what you think of it," he says, pushing the cup towards Ben.

Ben shakes his head, reaching for another cake. "I'm really more of a sweet person myself. Why don't you join us?"

The weequay is now straight up watching this. She probably doesn't even know she's doing it, but she's also resting her hand on the blaster at her hip.