It's been awhile since he hunted using stealth, most jobs lately have been the kick down the door and shoot things kind. But when someone is willing to pay five thousand credits to off someone you don't complain when they say, "Oh by the way, don't go making a lot of noise and getting caught." Besides this makes a nice change of pace.
He finds his prey on a busy street coming off of a market and follows him until he finds a good place for an ambush. Dark alleys are overused these days, but they work. He runs ahead on a second street and gets into place, hand resting on his knife that's hanging from his belt.
He likes this knife, he likes it better than any of the others, and almost better than his favorite blaster. It's plain looking, unlike the knives his family prefers with their gold blades and jeweled hilts. His knife is made to be used for more than ceremonies. Its six inch by one inch blade is of plain gray unpolished metal and is razor sharp. The hilt is smooth brown leather, well worn from years of use it fits his hand perfectly.
He hears his prey walk past and his empty hand shoots out and grabs him. As he drags the struggling alien into the shadows he can't help but think how small it is. The tiny thing takes a breath to scream but before he can the hunter has his knife at its throat. One quick smooth motion and the neck is slit. Red sprays out to splatter the wall and stain white and rust armor crimson. The alien falls unconscious from blood loss almost immediately, becoming dead weight in his arms. The blood making the body slippery as he adjusts his hold on it and drags it to the middle of the ally.
Suddenly as he watches the bloody spray loose height and pressure the body bucks in his arms, then stills, then bucks again. He struggles to hold on as it shudders and jerks, legs kicking, arms flapping, its head suddenly snaps back and smacks against his helmet. Blood is thrown into the air and splatters over his arms and is smeared on his helmet. For what feels like forever but is less than a minute the death throes threaten to knock him to the ground before finally slowing and losing strength. As the flow of blood from the hole in its neck subsides then stops the spasms get farther and farther apart till with a last sudden but drawn out shudder the body is still.
Setting the corps down he takes out a data pad and records the bio signature and a med scan to confirm the kill then walks away. He will find somewhere to wash off the armor then it's off to the bounty office to collect his reward. As he walks away he pulls out a cloth to wipe the blood off his knife and stows it. Just another day on the hunt.