"Phwoar!" Shuvin gasped through a mouthful of food. "Plasma punch? Where?"

"I don't recall. Given the dimensions of a Class 3 armour set, I'd wager her chest. She did survive by the by."

"Lucky," the teenager sighed. "Plasma punches don't have settings. She should've been sliced in half. Maybe we should invest in some of that class 3 plastoid armor, huh Ben?"

She nudged the Alderaani, who didn't look up from his bowl of food.

"Sounds expensive," he grunted, spooning more food into his mouth.

"It'd save you from a plasma punch to the chest," she argued. Ben stopped and frowned in thought for a moment.

"Eh. Better, and cheaper, to not let a plasma punch flag me at all." He shrugged and took the ladle and served himself another helping. "Rather not have the attention an armor chest plate draws."

"Booooring!" Shuvin sighed, going back to her own food. "You agree with me, right, Cerie?"