Rubbing his next after the rather long runabout trip from Earth to this sector of space, Tyrlon was feeling the time difference already. Although he arrived a few hours ahead of schedule, he wasn't in a hurry to report in just yet. Something about seeming over-eager wasn't very appealing to him.
So, he wondered the starbases main concourse in search of somewhere to sit down and read up on the training ships technical specs. it never hurt to be prepared with some knowledge of the systems, even if it was just a temporary assignment. Finding what seemed to be a small almost pub-like place, the El-Aurian settled into a seat at the bar, putting his small carry-on down, while taking out a PADD.
A lithe Ferengi women came up from behind the bar, and smiled with a few crooked teeth. "Hello Who-Man. Looks as if you're passing through. What may I get you from my humble establishment?" The smell of what could only be bettle snuff, seemed to come off of her. Or maybe she'd just been handling it.
Rubbing his chin Tyrlon gave a smile in return. "El-Aurian actually. Humans are everywhere in Starfleet I reckon eh." He shrugged. "I'll have synth ale. And what food do you have that isn't replicated?"
The Ferengi smirked some more. "Ah, sorry. Sometimes you all look the same. But Who-man or not, I like you all just the same." She picked up a mug and put it in a drink dispenser, letting it fill up, before placing it before Tyrlon. "As to food," she continued. "Well, depends on your spending."
Raising an eyebrow, Tyrlon asked, "Well, would a few slips of latinum offer anything? It's all I have."
Tapping her own PADD, the bartender replied, "Of course. Credits are only good for the cheap stuff. With that, I can offer some jumbo Romulan molluscs. Harder to get these days after all. Four slips will cover it."
Not really wanting to haggle, or whatever greed induced economics were at work, the El-Aurian nodded. "Good enough." He went down to his bag again and took out the slips. He had six left. Not that he was planning on using his allotment all up, he picked up one more. Placing them in the waiting hands of the Ferengi he gave her a wink. "Five for some hopeful future business."
The latinum was gone before he could blink.
The bartender beamed with delight. "In that case, the name's Nava. And I look forward to seeing more of you. Now, let me see to those molluscs." She turned and went into the backroom.
Looking around Tyrlon noticed the place was mostly empty, save for a few civilians. But he didn't mind being by himself most times. He'd be busy soon enough.