"Poe." He stuck his hand out across the table - not always the greeting of choice in every culture, but with a giant block of wood and metal hanging out between them, he wasn't overly afraid of making himself out to be too aggressive. "Nice to meet you." There hadn't been much wariness in his posture to begin with, no real deliberation in his approach - but the dregs there were of careful formality dissolved as he took one of the controls in his hand, gave it a quick twist, and watched the ball go skittering uselessly off to the side. "I guess I'm blue. Don't go easy on me."
There was no other introduction required - they had a game, they had a ball, they had their sides, and Poe was happy to slide right into that form of communication. Where are you from, and who are you, and who did you piss off to get thrown in here felt far too heavy to throw at someone just now; his own answers to those questions were long and deep and fraught and frankly exhausting, and he was well aware that almost everyone tread deeper, and frayed harder than he did. If he didn't want to answer, probably no one did. Right now, he just grabbed on, and dove in, and - went at it a little too enthusiastically, and knocked the ball right back into his own net.
He waited; and watched it roll back into the slot on the side of the table, with a grin. "Good thing you brought the ball over," he said, raising his eyes to the man across the table, "or I might have looked like an idiot. My first step's usually an EVA without a tether." Which didn't result in the metaphorical drifting helplessly into the emptiness of space as often as one might think - generally because he always found someone's hand to grab. He set the ball back in the center; made a deferential gesture to his opponent, whose turn, clearly, had come up. "I don't know if you learn quicker that way, but it's more fun."