"We have cloning and bioweapons where I come from, too," Ben says, able to follow. Certain kinds of technology always seem to surface - he knows stories of the Clone Wars that took place long before he was born and which set the stage for everything that came afterwards. "They were used as weapons in war. Our galaxy is different from yours, but perhaps not so different."

They were both weapons themselves, at some point in their lives, and he feels he can connect with that. Ben is a weapon no longer.

He chuckles, a low sound that comes from deep in his chest. "I tend to stick out in a crowd, too. Six-foot-three, black clothes. I'm used to being the tallest man in a room." When he was younger he was always tall, though he had been skinny and long-limbed rather than barrel-chested as he grew into them. He's met taller, especially here.

Jill's instincts are right. Nightclubs aren't Ben's style - he prefers places where he can blend in, one more hunched figure with shadowed features and little to say. He tries to socialize, but it still feels strange. "There's a place I know close by where we both can get a drink and a bite to eat. That'll do."