He stood, the empty glass clinking with the dimly lit metal table as he released his gentle grip. Buttoning up the cloak from the waist up, he frowned as his fingers gasped the cloth hood, the soft material resting on the tips of his horns as he raised it over his head. A quick glance around followed by a disgruntled sigh sped him on his way to the bar, where he waited patiently for the bartender's attention.

Speaking in a smooth, deep baritone, Ta'Lan held up a datadisk with a credit chip pressed to it. "If a Veknoid comes here looking for one of the Ika, see he gets this disk." The tender nodded and took both the chip and the disk, pocketing the money as Ta'Lan turned away from the bar.

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