Liin Terallo
Covie
The notification hit my datapad like a tap on the shoulder.
I almost ignored it. The network is always peddling nonsense. But the preview thumbnail immediately turned my blood cold. It was my lab. My chair. My desk. My hand, frozen above a syringe of shimmering light.
For a moment, I could not even breathe. I tapped the clip open, and the footage unfurled in silence showing me sitting alone at my workstation, shoulders tight, chin lifted with that stubborn determination I only ever feel when everything hurts. The camera angle -slightly above and slightly behind. Not an angle that I had installed. Someone was already watching me.
I watched myself slide the needle into my arm with a steadiness I do not remember possessing. A thin line of light followed the vein, snaking beneath my skin like a whisper of lightning. I remembered the burn that transpired with it. But I did not remember the glow.
Then the datapad beside me hissed and flickered. A tray of metal instruments shivered as if caught in a breeze. The lights overhead pulsed; once, then twice, all in time with the quickening beat of my own heart. In the footage, I did not notice any of it.
My throat tightened as the clip looped again - endlessly, cruelly, exposing the moment I broke every boundary I had set for myself. My hand shook as I fumbled through the metadata. Dead end. Scrubbed clean. Someone knew what they were doing. Someone wanted this seen.
I slammed the tab shut and stood far too fast. The room swayed, a faint ringing crawling through my ears. Not now. I pressed my fingertips to my temples, breathing through the spike of panic.
I needed to bury this. I needed to chase down every instance of the leak and try to get rid of it. But there is not a lot of time. I will also need to hide. What little reputation that I have left would surely be tarnished. Once the researcher. And now the experiment. Some may say that I was mad to test the serum on myself if they knew.
But so what if I am?
Where the Video Travels
The recording wasn’t meant to spread… but once it slipped free, it began surfacing in the strangest corners of the galaxy.
* Imperial black-file science channels
The encrypted networks meant only for sanctioned research suddenly show an unlabeled thumbnail. No metadata. No trace of origin. Tech-officers whisper that someone must have bypassed three clearance levels — or something did.
* Criminal underworld relays
On the dark holo-net, slicers trade the clip like contraband. Some say it’s proof of a miracle drug. Others say it’s a death sentence captured on camera. Everyone agrees someone will pay handsomely to get the woman in the video.
* Jedi meditation networks
A few Jedi receive the video embedded inside what looks like a meditation broadcast. No sender. No encryption. And during the injection moment, some report… a ripple. Faint, but undeniable.
* Sith shadow-circles
Among Sith apprentices and lore-hunters, the clip appears as a corrupted vision file. They argue whether the surge in the footage is an attempt to create power — or steal it.
Across slicer dens, temples, embassies, smuggler haunts, and war rooms, the same question spreads:
Who is she? And what has she done to herself?
The recording wasn’t meant to spread… but once it slipped free, it began surfacing in the strangest corners of the galaxy.
* Imperial black-file science channels
The encrypted networks meant only for sanctioned research suddenly show an unlabeled thumbnail. No metadata. No trace of origin. Tech-officers whisper that someone must have bypassed three clearance levels — or something did.
* Criminal underworld relays
On the dark holo-net, slicers trade the clip like contraband. Some say it’s proof of a miracle drug. Others say it’s a death sentence captured on camera. Everyone agrees someone will pay handsomely to get the woman in the video.
* Jedi meditation networks
A few Jedi receive the video embedded inside what looks like a meditation broadcast. No sender. No encryption. And during the injection moment, some report… a ripple. Faint, but undeniable.
* Sith shadow-circles
Among Sith apprentices and lore-hunters, the clip appears as a corrupted vision file. They argue whether the surge in the footage is an attempt to create power — or steal it.
Across slicer dens, temples, embassies, smuggler haunts, and war rooms, the same question spreads:
Who is she? And what has she done to herself?
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