ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴇᴛᴇʀɴᴀʟ
The air reeked of ozone, cheap stims, and desperation, perfect camouflage for the rot they had come to excise.
Rumors of an identity slicer circulated rapidly among the elite of the Sith Order, suggesting that there was an individual capable of crafting nearly flawless replicas of the Dark Council members. The consequences would be dire if the remnants of the Jedi Order or the High Republic managed to obtain these duplicates, as they could potentially be employed for deceptive operations and infiltrating confidential databases.
Beside her stood Dark Councilor
"Councilor," she said, voice steady and edged with lethal promise. "The slicer's work goes far beyond simple forgery. These duplicates are convincing enough to walk among us undetected. My sources point to this sector, Black Sun mixed with independent shadow runners operating out of the mid-level hab-blocks. Whoever this slicer is, they're bold enough to play with the faces of the Council."
Mythem turned her golden gaze toward Lirka Ka, hunger and cold caution mixing in her expression.
"Shall we begin by squeezing the information brokers in the lower districts, or do you already have a specific den of vipers you wish to tear open first? I live to serve in this cleansing." Rain hissed against the railing as speeder traffic streaked past in neon blurs. Somewhere in the glittering decay below, the slicer's trail waited. Mythem's lips curved into a thin smile at the prospect of silencing this rumored threat once and for all.