"Wookie brandy, huh?" John threw a nod at the bartender, who handed him a glass of his own. "Aren't those the ones that look like Bigfoot?"
He'd had plenty of time to read as he'd been recovering, with the staff at the medcenter giving him pointers on what articles he'd want to read up on first. Certain alien species, histories, and technologies had been deemed critical, and like a good former intelligence officer, he'd memorized everything he could. Of course, he had no intention of looking for a fight; given his luck, however, the fight would find him eventually, and when it did, he wasn't about to get caught with his pants down.
"I take it you're a regular around here," he added, taking a quick glance her glass, and the amount she'd poured. "Or did you just tip well the last time?"