She hadn't planned on the chaos. There'd been no forewarning, which was disturbing to her; she didn't like unplanned hindrences. Her usual methods of discerning whether her venture would be fruitful or pitiful had been ambiguous at best, and so she'd committed to the job without the comfort of knowing the degree of success she'd enjoy.
It was, then, to her satisfied surprise that the turbolift doors opened on one of the faces - the men - she'd been tasked with killing. Her employer wasn't concerned with discretion on the matter, but she'd still rather not butcher him in the middle of a crowded corridor. Not that she'd ever be so careless to let her methods decline into butchery, of course.

In the quiet of the turbolift, she could perform without having to deal with onlookers. It would be no boon to her reputation, but word spread easily among the tongues of the underworld. Even if it couldn't be directly linked to her, people would make assumptions, spin wild tales. She cared little; she relished the chance to perform, not the telling of the fact.
Hooded and veiled, she offered a curt nod to Alhan, the former Senator who'd unfortunately fallen onto the Empire's blacklist. Her appearance would likely be nothing of alarm; from the thin stripe of visible skin and the piercingly blue eyes, he'd be able to tell she wasn't human, and the fashions of other worlds were often lost on those not belonging to them. And here on Coruscant, diversity was a common thing.
Without waiting for Alhan to enter the lift, she slid a crystal blade from her right bracer, catching it in the same palm even as she was driving it up to penetrate her target in the heart. She didn't flinch, nor offer an explanation. Had it been listed in her contract that a message be passed on, she'd have done so, but she did so dislike sullying her art with words of retribution and revenge.

He finally made it to the access stairs. At this low of a level, there are no security codes on the stairs' entrance, so he had no problem getting through. 'Five more levels' he thought. He was becoming a little nervous as he walked closer to the contact location. He would have no way to verify his contact other than through the usual secret codes and security questions arranged by the contact's host. For all he knew, he could be running into an Imperial trap. When he reached the correct level, he could tell something was wrong. There were no beggars and drug addicts sleeping in the corridor. There had obviously been a run through of some kind, perhaps a rare inspection by the tenant police? He mentally shook his head at that, not even the tenants' police force would want to come down this far into the underlevels.

He reached number 554. He knocked drunkenly, calling out in slurred speech the pre-arranged password, "Honey I'm home!" After a few moments without a response, he began to sweat a bit. "Lemme in you fat whore!" he jeered without giving away his rising apprehension. He swayed back and forth down the hallway, an eerie calm settling over the corridor that would be quite unusual for this red-light district at this hour of the night. Something had gone horribly wrong.

Unfortunately, in this case, those emotions seemed to have cemented the idea in her targets' mind that shooting her would be the best course of action, and she of course could not allow that to happen.
Slipping the bloodied crystal blade into its hidden sheath inside her bracer, she faded further back into the shadows of the turbolift, allowing darkness to swallow her form and obscure her phyisical presence. There was no need to hide herself in the Force, for she didn't intend to remain passive and allow her target to shoot her. Instead, she projected her reach outward, telekinetically reaching for the blaster to pluck it from his fingers and toss it down the corridor, out of reach, before he could fire.

She wanted a straight-up fight this time. The metal of her lightsaber seemed to burn coldly through the material of her boots, calling to her, compelling her.
Ducking in the shadows to avoid any blasterfire should her telekinesis prove unsuccessful, she found her right hand clasping around the hilt sheathed in her boot and bringing it to bear, her thumb on the activation plate...

He knew that the crowded depths of the under levels were his best chance at really losing his pursuer - in that, a man with a lightsaber was a bit hard to miss when he was forced to go into highly crowded areas, and he would be drawing a lot of attention to himself.

He made another turn, following his kalak given instincts towards a 'herd' of people moving through thoroughfares of the underlevels, the inquisitor would be forced to follow him through a mass of people - which of course slowed Tes'dra down as he had to weave and bully through people, but his pursuit - and whoever was shooting at them - would be forced to do the same.

As the blaster fired, she instinctively ignited her lightsaber as if to deflect the shot, but realised almost too late that it was a stun blast, and she'd never tested her lightsaber against such methods before. Now wouldn't be an ideal time for such an experiment.
She ducked lower, her legs splaying across the floor of the turbolift, and arched backwards. The ring of energy made her skin tingle as it passed within a hairsbreadth of her body, and dissipated into the turbolift wall, leaving behind a barely visible mark.
Still laying flat on the floor, she brought her legs up over her head and rolled into a crouching position - only to be faced with a second incoming stun blast, which she barely vaulted over, and by the time the third shot had been fired, she was ready. Bending gracefully downward and keeping her head up, so as not to lose sight of the target, she swooped beneath the incoming shot and upon rising, hurled her lightsaber at Kenas.

The blade didn't spin through the air, but rather sailed toward Kenas like a javelin propelled through the Force, a straight-shot intended to pin him to the nearest surface through the heart, the quickest death she could offer him. If he failed to accept his fate, she'd be forced to lengthen the process.