Ignore this book

Except...

Okay, so I'll try and fill you in a bit. I'm a prince, alright? My name is well known among the stars, but here on Earth not so much. It means 'darkness' in Irish; I'm not supposed to actually tell you that, because even that might set my captors' dogs onto me, but that's what my name is. I come from the planet of Gashnara, in the Sümweyhr sector. I was attending a meeting on the Treaties of the Galactic Concord when someone pulled a gun and shot me in the shoulder. It was painful, but I managed to stand and face the four people that ambushed me from behind. I knocked them down, but the three seconds it took me was enough for the assassin to reload his crossbow and stick it in my face. "Kneel, Prince of Gashnara," he said, and I had no choice but to obey, albeit grudgingly. Two more aliens appeared and seized my arms. I was thrown into the back of a speeder, and I was taken straight to where I am now. They put me in a room with a window, maybe in hopes that I would decide to end my own suffering and fall, and it has a lovely view that I would probably really appreciate if I weren't chained to a steel bar in a tiny cage in a tiny room with a meal of force-fed soup and bread once a day. I'm not going to jump, though, no matter how they torture me, because I know you're reading this, you Samson-possessing person. Plus, there's always the complication of the cage and the chains and stuff. But mostly because you're reading.

I'm not going to bribe you, I'm not going to beg, I'm not going to do anything except ask once again and give you the next clue: I'm somewhere in Melbourne City.

Good luck. You'll need it.