Flight

Yea, no. No way this ends well. You might be willing to take your chances against someone who had the jump on you, but eight someones is a stretch. Every one of these guys has a head start to their weapon, so you take the one advantage you do have.

Your drink is already raised, so you hurl it into the eyes of most sober looking Duros. You follow the motion of the throw into a spin and run like hell for the door as blaster fire erupts behind you.

If you were crazy enough to turn and look, you might see that your drink caught the Duros by surprise. You would see him flail out blindly, knocking aside the arm of a human companion who frankly had you dead to rights, sending his first shot just inches over your head. You would also see your hunch was vindicated, and these thugs are all either too drunk or too incompetant to hit a moving target, especially as you flip over tables, droids, and anything else you can get your hands on.

You don't see any of that of course, because you are are definately not crazy enough to turn and look. You are too busy running and altogether too clever to stop and turn until you are damn sure no ones firing anymore. In this case, that means you're a good dozen blocks away, lungs and muscles screaming but for the most part intact.

You have no idea where you are, but you can catch a speeder taxi from pretty much anywhere on Coruscant. Catching a ride to your rented quarters (well worth it to avoid the screaming of Timik and Rogo at all hours), you retire for the night to sleep and check for blaster holes.

That's about enough excitement for one day.