The barkeep, anticipating that the order will be to go, has conveniently put the grilled nerf burger into a disposable container, which he volunteers to Dex as he returns to the counter. Dex, ever on the lookout to network and make connections, hands the credit stick to the Rodian and indicates that he should take an additional five credits for himself as a tip. What could be considered a crooked smile by Rodian standards creeps onto the bartenders snout as he deducts the credits.

Following up the tip with a friendly comment, Dex adds, "I like this place. Maybe I'll get a chance to come back later. By the way, you wouldn't happen to know where one might update one's wardrobe, by chance? It seems the fashion here is quite different to what I am used to."

“Heh,” grunts the bartender in light of Dex’s self-depreciating humor. “The only place around for that kind of thing, unless you go to Mos Entha or Mos Espa, is Bo Mercantile. It’s just up the street.”

The bartender’s budding good-humor is short lived, however. His friendly demeanor fades away as Ian approaches with Ears once again on his shoulder, now tugging at her friend’s scraggly beard with one spindly hand while holding on to his forehead with the other for stability. Ian seems nonplussed by the icy glare from the Rodian. Why get upset over the actions of an imaginary alien after all?

Dex indicates to Ian that it’s time to go and hands him the container. As he heads out the door, he wonders how long it’s going to be before Ian runs into the wrong guy and really gets them in trouble; the kind of trouble you don’t wake up from… or wake up a slave on some freighter, he adds in his mind, with more than a touch of irony. The bartender is certainly gruff, but he doesn’t seem like much of a threat – all bark and no bite as it were. Put Ian in the line of fire, though, be it in combat, interacting with someone powerful, or in some other dangerous situation where reality shows no mercy, and there’s going to be trouble.

Just as Ian’s leaving he is reminded that the large-eyed bartender hadn’t answered his question earlier. "You forgot to let me know how to catch up with Joko. Did you tell my friend?"

“Oh, I didn’t forget, “ states the Rodian bluntly. In response to the comment, Dersh, the man at the bar, chuckles menacingly before taking another pull off his ale. “… yeah, I told your friend, ” finishes the barkeep.

With that, clearly finished with Ian, the greenish Rodian turns and walks to the other leg of the L-shaped bar to address one of the squid-headed Quarren who’s making a request in a language that sounds more like a loud sucking sound than intelligible speech. Certainly not satisfied, but lacking any real alternative, and unable to will the illusory bartender to come back, Ian heads outside to catch up with Dex.

Outside, on the central thoroughfare, Dex is stretching in the dim twilight, the day’s activities really beginning to catch up to him. One of the planet’s two suns has completely set, and the other is about halfway set at this point. The temperature is very pleasant now as well, having cooled off quite a bit without the direct input of the stars’ radiation. Ian pops out of the Oasis looking a little spaced out and tired as well, Ears riding shotgun as always.

The party heads toward the spaceport on the outskirts of town, passing the rest of the businesses and houses of the citizens along the way. They draw a few compulsory curious glances along the way from the people strolling up the street, but no more so than would be expected.

A few minutes walk leaves them standing in front of Coozer’s Spaceport and Repair Service. Coozer apparently isn’t too concerned about image it seems, considering there are miscellaneous starship parts littering the ground out front. The party has to veer around the pieces in a snaking approach to get to the rickety door which has a button and a naked speaker next to it. It doesn’t take much intelligence to figure out that the button must be some kind of intercom, so Ian gives it a solid poke and waits.

A few seconds later, a voice comes over the speaker sounding like it’s at the end of a distant tunnel, “Can I help you?”

Dex explains who they are and that they are looking for Jarren. There is no reply from the tinny-sounding little speaker, but the door buzzes and slides open. Taking the cue, they walk into Coozer’s reception area for lack of a better description. The room is a thoroughly dingy and dirty tribute to sloppy mechanics galaxy wide. There are a couple cheap, uncomfortable looking chairs that customers can sit in to wait on repairs, a counter that Coozer no doubt conducts business from, and a wall full of custom space ship add-ons that are for sale. The whole place is decked out with aged, sun-blanched posters detailing the wonders of the tools and products used in the spacecraft service industry. Practically all the posters have a scantily clad female promoting the product in some alluring way. “Toxar Tools Get the Job Done” extols one poster. “Kuat Systems Engineering – The Right Choice” claims another. The room also has another door through which you can see back into the docking facility. Looking through the doorway, a sturdy man in a flight suit with his arms crossed can be seen standing in front of Jarren who’s sitting on a crate and waving you forward.

[OOC: A nerf is sort of the Star Wars equivalent of a cow, in case you were wondering]