Life was rough in Coruscant; Thieves, bounty hunters, mercenaries, and whores littered the underground. But to the daughter of a whore and crime lord, it was the only way of life Cyra ever knew. Through the brutal years of her adolescence, Cyra established her talent as a slicer. Starting out on small jobs, slicing systems for smugglers and smaller crime syndicates, her name and skills began to become known.

As she matured into adulthood the clients and jobs began to increase. Cyra was able to pick and choose who and what job was worth her time and talents. Often times, she just ended up taking jobs from the highest bidder; paying no mind if it was either diplomats or crime syndicates. To her, credits were credits. It didn't matter who they came from. Some would say Cyra was living the dream of the underground life. Starting from the bottom as a whore's daughter, to living in her own apartment across a lively cantina; She would have agreed.

One job —one mistake changed everything. This particular job appeared to be like all the others in the past. Slice into the mainframe of the opposing syndicate's operation undetected. Plant the bug. Get out undetected. It was simple enough.

Two days after slicing the mainframe for her client, Cyra sat in the back booth at the cantina across from her apartment, gingerly sipping on her cocktail. Facing the entryway, she witnessed two men who appeared to be from off world enter; scrutinizing patrons faces. Pressing her glass to her lips, she took another sip of the pink liquid, before setting it back onto the glass table; eyeing the newcomers.

She stalked the men's movements as they made their way to the bar. Once the droid acknowledged their presence, they leaned over the bar, seemingly to order their drink or to ask a question. Something isn't right. She felt, as one of men turned their head in her direction, his menacing gaze not leaving hers.

Plucking her glass from the table, Cyra knocked back the rest of her cocktail, before casually standing from her seat at the booth and made her way over to the back area of the building towards the freshers and back door. As soon as she rounded the corner that was attached a small hallway, Cyra pulled her blaster from its holster, continuing her way towards the back door. "Stop!" a male voice sounded from behind her.

Once outside, Cyra pressed herself against the cantina's walls, masking herself in its shadows. Inhaling deeply, she gripped her blaster, until knuckles were white. When the back door opened, she exhaled.

"The boss wants her alive. Find her!" The man in the lead stated to his partner.

The backs of the newcomers faced her; oblivious to her location. Silently, Cyra pulled a blade from her belt, eyeing the man closest to her. With light footing, she snuck up behind him and pulled her blade to his throat.

"Put your blaster down, or your friend dies." Cyra demanded, pressing her blade against the man's neck and aiming her blaster at the lead newcomer's chest. Doing what she asked, his blaster dropped to his feet, his hands raising in surrender.

"Why are you after me?" she asked.

The one who had her blade pressed to his throat answered, "The boss knew it was you who sliced his system. He wants to talk."

"Sweetheart that's what I do for a living. You're going to have to specify who your 'boss' is." Cyra stated, pressing her blade down ever so slightly.

"The Rein Syndicate." The one she aimed her blaster at, replied.

Realization struck Cyra. They had trackers in their firewall. "If you're part of the Rein Syndicate, then you know as well as I, your boss doesn't want to talk."

Lowering his hands, the man across from her smirked, "No. He just wanted to kill you himself."

"Hmm." She mumbled, before shooting the man in the chest, then quickly running her blade deeply across the other's throat. Both men dropped to the ground, as Cyra stepped over to the man she shot in the chest. She stared down at him with calculated eyes, then shot him once more, but in the head. Cyra placed her blaster back in its holster and her knife back into its sheath.

Turning around, she ran towards her apartment, leaving the bodies to be found.