The top to latches were released from his tunic, allowing the upper portion to drift slightly open. Several scars were visible from underneath. His right arm was up, resting on the window frame stopping his head from touching the window. His thumb slowly scratching his eyebrow. The warm glow of the city proper cast a shadow of his relaxed form across his quarters. The form of the shadow seemed to move on its own. His left hand moved slowly releasing the next three catches of his tunic. The black fabric fell open exposing the silver under shirt.

He pulled away from the window, his hand falling to his belt, releasing the catch. The belt fell away from his hip but dangled from his hand. He stepped away from the window, the belt laid on the black finished wood holder that lani had gotten made for him. He turned his head slightly, his auburn gaze falling on the long and narrow cage at the end of his bed. The girl was just shifting as she got comfortable. The gaze turned once again towards Rhy'din.

The winter night was good for making deals and keeping arrangements. Generally too cold for anyone that would be even want to get in his way. Additionally, there were others that would be more easily spotted or heard. Travanix took a long deep inhale. The cool night air mixed with his own body temperature. He leaned against the wall of the alley between buildings. He watched the late night traffic go by: People with their ladies of the night trying to keep their spouses from finding out, addicts attempting to find someone that could get them high enough. He was aware of the shallow breathing at the end of the alley way of just one of those addicts that either didn?t have a home or was so desperate that getting home was optional, getting high was a priority.

Someone had contacted him through various agents that they had something for him. That it was information of the highest regard, his informant stated. However, they wanted to meet downtown, after midnight. He had his suspicions, but this particular informant had been trustworthy in the past: had provided excellent data. So, what would it hurt? He made his excuses and left the Inn early. His warrior instincts were sounding alarm bells as he stood there, somewhat exposed. The Force however warned him of no impending danger. While the Force had made him powerful, there were times his combat instincts kept him alive.

This is one of those times. The Force lit up and warned him to move as did his instincts as a rifle report was heard. It was too late, however. The slug thrower had found its target. His body was already twisted though, the slug going through his left shoulder instead of his heart. The pain was searing as he threw his back against the building trying to keep himself from further damage. The second shot breezed past him as he heard the report of the thrower once more. The third shot would not miss if he didn?t do something. He stepped further back into the alley, allowing the shadows to conceal him. There was no third shot. Auburn eyes peered in the general direction of the shot, trying to find some sign. They were good, perhaps even professional in their marksmanship.

If he had not been good at what he does, he would now be dead. Although only a temporary state, there was a level of annoyance that someone was out to assassinate him. The shoulder was burning and becoming a distraction. He was bleeding mildly and was a sitting duck if he didn?t start moving. The pain coursing through his arm, he tried to command it away. There was enough relief that he could begin concentrating on other things as he turned to face the wall and began to climb it. Power was no good unless he could concentrate, and the burning in his shoulder he could only concentrate so much. He continued to climb up the wall, no doubt leaving a trail of where he was. Reaching the top he stayed low, assuming that the aggressor was a professional. He used the roof?s obstacles to keep himself out of the line of sight.

Would the agent attempting to kill him continue his attack or would he assume that he was now being the hunted one and already be on his way. He leaned against one of the obstacles, holding his wounded shoulder. He slid down to the ground, the first thing first: gather his wits enough that he can force the wound to do some triage repair ? enough that he can defend and hunt as needed. Someone wasn?t going to let him though. He heard the roof door open. It may have been quiet, but to the trained ear, it was a car crash. Someone was hunting him!

Surly the noise of the slug throwers firing would wake someone up in this town - never mind. He stood up, grabbing the closest guy and used him as a shield. His right arm was the dominant one anyway, so he had the most strength in it which allowed him to get his left arm onto the belt of the shield and strip it off. Leaping down into the alley below, he tossed what appeared to be thermal detonators up on the roof.

He heard them shouting and scrambling before the device detonated. He hit the ground a bit harder than what he was expecting. He threw the belt down and began running. Being able to call on the Force, he augmented his speed and was moving faster than most as he worked to put himself into a better position. He heard shouting from the ground. He didn't risk looking back - not yet. Though he could tell there were at least a dozen men chasing after him.

He needed to be in a better position to put an end to this. Finding another alley, he quickly ducked in. He was able to hide in the shadows a bit, and watched as they scrambled past. One of them stopped when he heard a noise, and then turned to look down the alley. A hand reached out, grabbing the attacker, pulling him into the shadows, there was a muffled scream then everything was silent.