And he woke

As Durie's eyes opened he immediately became aware of his surroundings and he rolled onto his back and starred at the ceiling. He raised his left knee and with his left leg already uncovered and pinning the thin sheet to the bed, the rest of the sheet covered his groin and part of his midsection before it spilled off to the left of him. The artificial light spilled into the room, the new changes in the neon was his alarm clock as it discolored the dark brown hue of his skin. He hated the planet. There was no fresh air. Everything smelled like plastisteel. He could taste the pollution with every breath he took. The people even in the subblocks thought of themselves as aristocrats just because they lived on this "fake planet". He snarled softly, his tongue rubbed over his teeth, "his fangs" felt dulled which was more of a subconscious thought then a reality, and his hands rested on the back of his head where the stubble had started to grow back. He moved his hands forward and felt where his vestigial horns had been cut off. It just looked like scars now where they had been completely removed a second time after growing back at some point. He had lived to long like that to think of it as an embarrassment, and since he had been enslaved to the Empire before he was able to earn his jato, he merely passed as a human unless on the rare occasion he laughed hard or made love to a woman.

Woman. His hand moved to the side of the bed where she slept. She was already gone. His right forearm and hand as cybernetic as his foot. The rest of his body was his. A sleeve of tattoo's covered the rest of his right bicep, but the remainder of his body was untouched. Flawless peeks and pits of a once well oiled fighting machine, cast aside by his "makers" as no longer useful because of the wounds he sustained, he only kept himself in shape as a prideful arrogance. Perhaps someday he would need to use them again throwing out one of the wanna be aristocrats from the bar that he tended in the subblocks. As it had happened thus far though, all he would have to do is stand and his menacing size pretty much quelled any squable in the place.

The bedroom was a complete glass curve that looked down on the city, a modest rent for this area, jutting out a little past the apartments flanking his. He dropped to the floor nude and began a routine of lift ups, first using two hands, then he spread his legs wide and used his one natural arm. Then he rolled to his back and began his chest ups, raising his pectoral muscles to his raised knees. Once that set was complete he moved the kitchen and collected his breakfast drink. A combination of a nutripaste set and fresh fruit. She had left it for him. Then he headed to the apex of the curve and looked down at the city, not caring about his attire, or lack there of. He felt more natural today then he normally ever did.

What was she to him? He did not love her, she was one of the wanna be aristocrats who probably just liked him for his nice apartment. He liked her. They got along and there were times that he could relate to her, but she was content on staying on this planet. Working at that bar. She was getting too old though to think that she could party for the rest of her life. That was fine for a twenty year old, but she was not twenty anymore. Perhaps it was her DNA as a twi'lek? He glanced over at the photo of her to see the spicey hue of her skin, her arms wrapped around his shoulder as they had smiled for the holo, her deep blue eyes sparkling.

Then the curtain moved in the apartment next door and he suddenly got self conscious of his attire.