*The room was dim, panels of light from the holographic displays dancing across Lana Beniko's measured expression. A calm amid a vicious storm. She moved about the room in an elegantly fluid motion, her yellow irises - the lone mark of dark side corruption upon her otherwise composed features - bouncing between the screens showcasing myriad statistics and reports. An outsider might perceive this dance as overwhelming, chaotic even; but to Lana, each movement was calculated, every bit of informat...