“So basically your gut’s telling you this lady got herself in trouble? No facts?” Browlarr frowned and pursed his lips. “What do you want us to do?”
“Search for her?” Clint kept his temper under control with an effort.
“Do you know how many transients go through our port on any given day? Crews and passengers? And she hasn’t even been missing a full planetary day. File a report and forget it, buddy, take my advice. If anything comes to light about her, we’ll forward the information to the Line.”
Rising to his feet, Browlarr escorted Clint from his tiny office, passing him off to a desk sergeant, asking her to take the scant information he could offer about the case.
“This is a waste of time,” Clint said to the older woman with blue-green hair and matching nails. Refusing to sit, nerves
