Caught mid-chew on a particularly juicy piece of nuna, Cerie froze like a flutter-deer in speederlights.

"Hrhrmmmm... "

She finally started to chew again, and after another few moments she swallowed.

"Well... "

She licked any residual sauce from her lips that might've lingered.

"... Well you know," she restarted, her eyes moving from Shuvin to Ben who - all things considered - looked like he was enjoying his food as though it was snow-straw meant for Taun-Tauns.

"... well, we might be able to find class 3 stuff that you can wear under your clothes."

Her fork made a circuit around the rim of her dish, gathering up another bite.

"I mean, it would be like wearing those old blaster-proof numbers that the police on Ord Ren-0 wore, I guess."