The flimsiest of booths creaked in protest as Cody lowered himself into the red vinyl seat. Across from him, the new padawan eyed the food trays he placed down. It had nearly been a week since the Council had assigned them to their squad. An emergency placement after the chaos that was Umbara. Apparently, after Pong Krell's betrayal and demise, the Council had decided sticking the kid with them was the best course of action.

Cody understood the kid needed time, but their walls were high. And Kenobi, being his usual kind self, had tried his best. A patient hand on their shoulder, friendly words, but even the General struggled to get them to relax more.

Cody decided to take a different approach. A way to gain a bit of their trust, to maybe crack a sliver of that guarded exterior. He'd cleared it with Kenobi first, of course. The General had simply smiled and thought it might help like he had. He hoped a bit of normalcy and proper downtime was the right way to go.

So, here they were. It wasn't the most luxurious place, but it was the second-most popular diner among the clones during downtime in Coruscant, a haven of greasy foods far from the plain monotony of Republic rations. Given by the kid's mild bewildered look at fairly raggedy diner, it was clear their old general was never one to bring them to places like this. And from Rex and the others had told him about Krell, the uptight man probably wouldn't have taken them anywhere for downtime, period.

"Here," He said, pushing their tray closer to them. "The food might look a bit… unorthodox, but trust me, kid, it won't poison you." He paused for a moment before adding, "Probably."