I'll be the first to blab.
The four gangly teenagers with their smug attitudes and the old-timer who used to fly a spice freighter back in the day all sat down at a table looking at a gaming mouse.
The four teenagers each sat there looking unimpressed with the gaming mouse.
"It has four buttons... controllers have eight," said the 16 year-old whose facial hair hadn't come in all the way around his face. "Why are the rebels wanting this?" This gangly teenager we'll call Contempt.
"Because it just makes sense," said the 43 year-old spice captain. "You know... I can target things a hell of lot faster than your two thumbs can on a joystick. I will bury you and your three buddies before you lock on to me with that boomerang thingy you have there."
"Really? And why do I care," said Indifferent. This gangly teenager has gothic look that he will no doubt regret having in a decade when he's back to living in Mommy or Daddy's basement. "I mean... this game won Game of the Year." The last statement said with a hint of sarcasm.
"You should care," said Old Spice Captain. "There are veterans of the Empire who have lost hands, their are special needs, older people with medical issues that can't do much, but put a Bioware RPG in their hand, and I mean singular, and something beautiful and very Jedi occurs."
"WHAT?!? Who gives a crap... stop with your whiney, feel sorry for me crap," said Insensitive. The third of the gangly teenagers who wikis everything but reads nothing to completion. "We won Game of the Year." The last statement sounded a bit proud.
"I guess you don't get it," said the old guy who is affectionately (?) called Grandpa by the other four. "Point-to-click and steering with a mouse makes it so much less tedious. Go ahead... give it a try..."
"No," said Indignant. "Unless I am getting some serious credits into my account from the Empire.. you can all go straight to the airlock. I'll be by the release mechanism." Indignant whose Full-Sail University student loans are gouging the hell out him since graduating, has a bitter attitude. The Empire has kind of put buzz-kill to the old Jedi way of thinking he heard about, but has yet to see.
"Well, if anything... let's start with attaching controls to these two extra buttons..." said Grandpa.
Just above them in the darkened room, atop a scaffolding, the four Jedis are watching the beta-fixers get to work. They stay in perfect silence so as not to alert or scare the five employees of the Empire.
Meanwhile, on a Rebel Ship called Isla Negra, a task force of highly trained special operation commandos prepare for the boarding and capture of the Empire ship called the Apathy.
"Our latest reports suggest that taking the Apathy is not prudent at this time unless there is one among us who can use joysticks," said Ashen Nedra, an old-school Jedi.
Not one of the fifty or so commandos would raise their hand. None.
"Well, it looks like we just wait a while then," said Bethgael, an old-school Jedi herself.
"I'm following what's going on, but does anyone get the feeling we're being watched," asked Hexoduen. Hexoduen, a commando that is known for being absolutely positive even when the star in front of her has just nova'd. She is that confident. Maker praise her.
The question posed a serious feeling of foreboding.
"You know what?" said Glosoli, a bounty hunter known for silent takedowns. "I could give a crap."