This happened a short time ago, in the Trixa Cluster.
I’d been tracking this Linorian, Joran D’jarra from system to system,
countless worlds, for about six weeks when I lost him at this scummy
little place called The Red Dianoga.
Quit laughing! It could’ve happened to you, too! Hell, it probably has.
I’m still not sure how I lost him, exactly; the Dianoga’s so tiny!
Anyway, he just disappeared right in front of me. A crowded room packed
with people and only two ways out that were in plain sight and he still somehow
got away.
I dropped my mug of Trixian bubblejuice and ran to the spot where’d he
been standing and… nothing. No sign he’d ever been there.
Four days went by without a sign. Then, on the fifth night, one of my
informers, a highly-paid informer, sent me a message.
"Dwan gee si lo tisha, Taryn, shon kee Linorian dowonga."
Roughly translated that means "I have some info for you, Taryn, about a
certain Linorian."
"Kor di tianna wonji. Anka lee voshon Nordani’s Spaceport."
Translation: You’re not gonna like this. Spotted him at Nordani’s Spaceport.
Hell! I thought. Bloody Hell! This wasn’t good.
Nordani’s Spaceport was a stinking, festering sore of filth that made Mos
Eisley look like a fun-filled family attraction. I’d have to wade through
ankle-deep slime and defend myself against all sorts of disgusting creatures
while sub-sisting on stale food and cloudy water.
In other words, it looked like I was going home.
