The Doctor is sitting down at a table in the partially particulated bar. Kicking a small chunk of debris that somehow has evaded the previous efforts at sweeping, he sighs and looks around at the remaining amenities.
He sets his datapad down on the table, designs for some kind of humaniform machina showing across the screen.
He looks around, unsure if his Kusarian meeting partner will arrive or not. In the meantime, he ponders what he might like to have as a drink. Or if he should not drink, or if he should take cues from his guest. So many variables!
"Yes, yes, beepity boop" *he says mockingly to his datapad, alerting him to some computation that has recently completed*
