"Sure," I said wearily. "Will you take my bags, please?"
"Roger," he answered. He picked up the bags and nodded at the bar.
"So long, Joe," he said to the bartender.
"See you, Joe," the bartender called back.
Captain Bransten was a mousey, unimpressive sort of man. He was wearing a tropical tunic, but he still resembled a wilted lily more than he did an officer.
"Have a seat, Major," he offered. He reached for a cigarette box on the desk and extended it to me. He coughed in embarrassment when he saw it was empty. Quickly, he pressed a button on his desk and the door popped open. A tall, blue Venusian stepped lithely into the room.
"Sir?" the Venusian asked.
"We're out of cigarettes, Joe," the Captain said. "Will you get us some, please?"
"Sure thing," the Venusian answered. He smiled broadly and closed the door behind him.