Think of all the xenopsychology papers you could write just from observing people in the commercial district, Lazarus thought as he looked across the vastness of Starbase 118. People of all kinds working, living, eating, and learning together. Tellarites eating plomeek soup. Klingons playing darts. There's even a sign promising a show from "the only Vulcan comedian" at 2100 hours tonight. Lazarus must have looked like a kid in a candy store - eyes darting around, agape at everything around him.
"You never could stay focused, Davis," a gruff, but familiar and friendly voice from behind Dav