"The greater and prouder you be, your fall be all the more sorrowful." A deadly quote, yet one that applies to life so well. An example would be the once reknown Hero of the Salasian system, Captain Neil Blaze, who was running through the dirty alleys of the Noruxxu Mirugal Underground, bleeding through his materialized combat armor. He'd just been in a small firefight with that fat slug Rectja's men, and he'd made the mistake of underestimating them, giving them the chance to get him. He'd dispatched of the men eventually, but they'd landed a shot into the sides of his stomach. Didn't hit anything vital, but even then, it [i]could[/i] have. He should not even have given them the chance. Getting rusty on Norrux meant [i]death[/i] for him. 

But for now, he'd have to get that wound healed. Even if the shot didn't hit a vital spot, it could still kill him through infection and blood loss. Thankfully, he knew just the man to deal with it, and coincedentally, said man's residence wasn't too far from here. In fact, it was quite close. Doc Valentine, a man he'd heard of a while back, three months after his ship had been captured, his men slaved, and he had been marooned on this slum planet. He'd met him only once, and immediately Neil had known him to be a good doctor. Or at least he had thought he knew. He assumed that most Doctors gave the same kind of feel, since the Doctors in the Imperial Navy, or at least the Imperial Navy [i]he'd[/i] been in, were quite similar in feel, even if their personalities were polar opposites.

He held his side, feeling the blood seep through the carbon cloth that kept the armor together, and the pain. If he had not his training, he wouldn't have been able to think properly at this stage. He turned a corner, and immediately saw the light building further along the alley, which was easily differentiated from the rest, thanks to its better condition. The next thing he saw was the small swarm of dirty looking mobsters outside, that were likely Rectja's men. Most other mafia's and crime syndicate's would get crushed here, as he had learned quickly in the year that he had stayed here.

He raised an eyebrow, and used his right, and unused hand, to pull out his pistol from his holster at his side, and raised it slightly. One handedly, he slowly brought it up, still unnoticed, and looked through the holographic sight. He wasn't gonna fire yet, though, because there was the possibility of it being a "diplomatic" meeting, or as close to diplomatic as these thugs could get, and he'd rather NOT get Doc Valentine pissed at him. Although he'd rather not have some with diplomatic relations with those thugs patching HIM up. "Hello, chaps." he said in his native Britsh, as he kept the pistol low and undetected, but ready to fire. Two firefights in a day. Quite the record for an Academy Captain, huh?