The University of Teyr on Judecca was a somewhat magical place. This was partly due to its hometown, which had the flair of a medieval fortress and harbor city despite having been modernized. It was mostly because the university offered studies in the more liberal arts.
Rhetorics, acting, filmmaking, music, philosophy; many students of this institution would be heard, read and seen in the whole Cocytus system and further. It attracted the free minds, those critical of what they called the imperial oppression.
Naturally, the Empire at the height of Palpatine's reign would have bombed it from orbit and salted the earth.
The current Emperor had discarded the Tarkin Doctrine in this form, however. Instead of weeding those minds out, he gave them room to grow and develop... and through subtlety and nurturing, the tutors made sure that those young minds accepted the Empire's strong hand as the best government possible.
Those who disagreed still graduated and were recruited for lucrative off-world jobs. Possibly in other Clans. Usually in chains. Definitly mindwiped. But that wasn't common knowledge.

Of course, a university of free minds producing happy and supportive imperial citizens caught the attention of the various groups which had tried to topple the Empire. It had been the target of propaganda and even a terrorist attack before.
The latter had been intercepted by Scholae Palatinae's own intelligence service ISI before any students could be harmed, and subsequently covered up. Now it had become a target again. The ISI had found out that the group commonly designated as the Survivors had aquired an exotic poison
or virus - the investigators weren't sure yet - which was introduced to the victim by food and drink, where it would lie dormant for a few days as a cyst until digestive functions woke it up. After that, the body would deteriorate in a matter of days, possibly weeks, without affecting the brain.

A gruesome death.

There was, of course, an antidote, but it was equally hard to come by as the ailment itself, and had to be taken over years. The Survivors would contact the victims wearing trenchcoats and sunglasses and flowery names, and offer them the first dose of the antidote... a little red pill.
The price was to publicly abstain from the Empire and assist the Survivors in their battle. And the target was the annual alumni reunion at the University of Teyr. Authors, moderators, actors; people of renown and prominence plus their spouses and in some cases even kids. They were all potential victims.
The Clan could not afford to lose the support of those people, the civil unrest would have bound its hands and paralyzed Palpatine's heirs for years to come.
If the attack was successful, it would also pose the question if the Clan had allowed it - weren't the people studying there the critics of the Clan, after all? If such a question was asked and spread, all efforts on damage control would be too late.

The Emperor was in a tough spot. He could not allow the plan to succeed. He could also not make a show of force in that particular location without destabilizing the system. And he had more than this one hot spot to wory about.
So he sent a team of ISI operatives to stop the Survivors without attracting suspicion. And he reinforced it with the least imperial-looking Clan member he could. The future of the university and the Clan's image was now in the hands of these eight trusted professionals.

==

"...and that's how he bought the horse a prostitute."
The earbead comm ringed with laughter and curses. Although most of the team was split between several hovercars and even more square klicks, it shared this moment of entertainment as if in the same room. Gard's antics were the best.
Riff, who was already at the objective and in disguise, had to cover it up behind a coughing fit that made the people around him worry. Bleck, the team's usual leader, struggled to keep his vehicle safe on the lane. His passengers didn't have that problem.
The cornrow-braided man riding shotgun doubled over laughing, while the woman in the back rolled her eyes and cussed at the speaker. "Gard, stop shitting us. He bought the girl for himself, but she took the more attractive option and ran away with the horse!"
"Okay now, SHUT UP before Riff get's exposed!" Jorm half laughed, half shouted. He most theatrically grabbed his hair and pulled himself upright again.
A coughed "Thanks" could be heard from the mentioned man, followed by a stream of assurances that he didn't need a doctor, he had just swallowed something the wrong way. The rest of the team was in tears with laughter. 
Jorm dried his eyes and tried to calm down. These people might be Intelligence, but they were his kind of bastards all the same. There had been only one brief moment of tension when he had met with the team a few hours before. He and Bleck had to sort out the chain of command.
However, the new man had settled matters in a matter of moments. "I'll let you do your thing unless somebody starts throwing lightning. Consider me your walking supernatural sensor array in the meantime."
Now, they were driving towards Teyr's university in groups of two or three. Only Riff, who had been on vacation close by, had had the necessary time to infiltrate the serving staff as substitute for a... sudden sick leave. 
The others had to travel over half the continent. They would attend the reunion as alumni and plus ones. Bleck and two others had been put on the roll of alumni by an ISI hacker, while the vulgar redhead Seere in the backseat actually had graduated from the university's acting class.
Jorm was a plus one. Seere and Bleck still bickered about whose. When they finally arrived, Bleck had pulled rank and Seere was stuck with dragging Jorm around and probably repeating a cover story about how they had met for a large portion of the evening.
When this job was over, Jorm would recommend Seere to teach a new course at the university. Creative Cursing. She continued to display her talent until they stopped before the entrance and Jorm opened the door for her. The vehicle was handed to a page and the trio entered the open campus.

It was a warm summer night. Most of the reunion took place in the ceremonial hall, safe from the critters and insects that such a night lured out of their holes. It had a different kind of critter problem though, otherwise there wouldn't be an ISI team here.
They arrived early, and once they were past the portier, Bleck sent his people to mingle and look out for suspicious activity. Up until now, nobody knew who exactly the terrorists were and how they wanted to spread their poison. Or how they wanted to find the affected in time afterwards.
Enlightenment hit Jorm, though, when Riff in his waiter disguise offered them the ubiquitous champagne. "Don't drink that, Seere. Team, check my thoughts." He waited until they had checked in and quietly explained what just dawned to him. "They have to poison something everybody here consumes.
The analysts say the stuff doesn't hold up under heat, so it can't be cooked. There are raw dishes, but I see like fifteen of those, and they would have to poison every slice and bite. This would require the whole kitchen staff to be involved, which is unlikely. It would also take huge amounts of the poison.
Agreed so far?" He could see Seere beside him and Bleck in the distance nod, the others confirmed mumbling over the combeads. "So they have to poison something that almost everybody here consumes at some point... and they have to make the most of their supply. So what did they poison...?"
He saw the answer dawning on his closest teammates. Rising his glass of champagne, he toasted towards Bleck. The leader mirrored his toast, but none of them dared drink.

They did not waste time. A sample of champagne was taken and broken down by a comm-sized device, an investigator in the ISI's headquarters analyzed the readout and confirmed Jorm's suspicion just minutes later.
Riff quickly arranged a mishap that sent the champagne bottles in the kitchen crashing and the servant who prepared the drinks cursing. He was apprehended, pulled into a closet and searched thoroughly within moments. To no avail. Kraytshit. He wasn't part of the poisoner's chain.
A test on an unopened bottle revealed it to be poisoned too. With a sardonic smile on his face, Jorm took another unopened bottle and used both his trained and innate abilities. Kiffar and psychometry, a magical bond.

The bottle had been opened before. One man had opened the bottles, crate by crate. A woman had put something in. Another man had put new corks on, and a last woman had brushed them up and put them back into crates. Too many persons for clear impressions.

"Those bottles have been poisoned in storage. Somebody should check for receipts. Bleck? Would you kindly call up HQ and get a unit of investigators here, so they can comb over the place right the moment the last guests have left?" It wasn't really a question.
Bleck did what he was asked while those team members with him pulled the champagne from the menu. It would stall the party a bit, but reduce the number of victims. Speaking of which... "Did you notice that not everybody drinks?" Gard asked over the comm. The agent was still in the main hall.
"I mean, some people are just abstinent from alcohol, but I figured that somebody might observe who drinks and who doesn't. If they approach a false person they risk unnecessary exposure and being reported. Covering such an incident up by murder or abduction would draw even more fire.
So yeah. They need eyes on the crowd. Right here, right now."
Bleck nodded to himself. "And now they will get nervous when the champagne stops flowing. Everybody but Riff, back to the main hall, spot the spotters. Riff, you stay in the kitchen and make sure they didn't poison anything else. It's an off-chance I'm not willing to take."
Spirits were high as the team narrowed in on its quarry. Jorm toured through the hall with Seere at his arm, augmenting her trained perception with his Force-induced ability to sense presences and emotions. It worked like a charm. Half an hour later, they had marked a number of individuals.
They would be trailed and apprehended by another team of oeratives which had arrived in the meantime.
Jorm and his companion were appearantly just casually strolling on the fringe of the hall by now. In truth, They were monitoring two marked individuals which occupied an adjacent room. Jorm could feel their tempers rising. They were arguing and close to panic.
"Those two are rapidly losing it. They'll alert the whole team. Bleck?"
"Roger that. Can you calm them?"
Jorm nearly laughed at that. "Not that kind of guy, I'm afraid. But I can silence them."
"Without ruining them forever?"
"Yupp."
"Go."
Jorm and Seere discretely left the main hall through a double door. The corridor behind it was deserted, the next door on the left concealed their marks. Seere produced a small slugthrower with suppressor from her purse and closed up to Jorm. "Play along!"
Then she turned him around, hid her gun under his jacket, and pushed him through the door with a drunken and excited giggle. She would have made a good actress. The two men interrupted their argument. One of them had the hand under his jacket but froze when he saw just a horny couple stumbling in.
"Hey, occupied!" His hand appeared again, empty, and he waved them off. But he suddenly froze up again when his gaze wandered from Seere to Jorm. His expression changed to something Jorm didn't like to see at all. Recognition.
He got out of Seere's embrace and pushed himself beyond his limits with every bit of strength, focus and Force he could muster in a blink of an eye. Quick now. The mark inhaled, his eyes grew wider, he would call out a warning in a moment... no, he wouldn't.
Jorm crossed the room faster than thought possible and hammered his fist right below the breastbone of his mark. It was a lights-out punch for most humanoids, and this specimen was no exception. His comrade was slower on the uptake and stopped moving alltogether when Seere pointed her gun at him.
A second later, Jorm had disabled him too. From Seere's purse appeared some narcotics, and their impromptu unconsciousness was turned into a proper anesthesia. They carried notes, decipherable as a list of attendants who had or had not drunk. They didn't carry earbead comms. Perfect.
Jorm took a good hard look at the man who had recognized him. "Know him?" Seere asked. "Nah, not from sight. But I wonder..." He frisked the man's face. "Bone scars on jaw and cheekbone. He's been cosmetically altered. Might be he was with the Cause when I infiltrated them. That was years ago."
"Any chance there's more like him? people who know you?" "A small one. The hideout I infiltrated was razed pretty good."

He commed up Bleck. "Two secured. Any news?"
"Yeah. The snatcher team has arrived and started to single out and bag them. I'll send one of them your way to take the subjects. You two are back on spotting duty."
"Confirmed." The snatcher arrived shortly as promised, and the two spotters returned to the hall, picking up their routine. Jorm noted how the nervous spirits became fewer and fewer, one by one and very sudden.
When he could not spot any more, he placed himself close to the entrance to screen the people who left once more. Another two marks were found that way, and would be trailed home.
Riff confirmed that preliminary testing had not reveiled any other poisoned goods, not even the tap water and napkins. The team was among the last who left. In the meantime, several teams of investigators had arrived with official law enforcement in tow.
There had been an attempted terrorist attack with a bioweapon, they informed the staff and university's officials. Although it had been averted, everybody and everything would be screened to be on the safe side. They would also pick up the papertrail.

In the meantime - Bleck's team and Jorm were on their way back to Ohmen already - the Survivor's notes were evaluated and the victims approached by officials. Instead of covering up the whole attack, Emperor Vismorsus decided to handle the incident openly instead of covering it up.
Only hours after the first victims had been taken to hospitals and had their digestive systems flushed to drive the poisonous cysts out, skilled Dark Jedi ripped the locations of the antidote out of the captives' minds.
Even if the poison took hold, the Empire would treat  and save the victims - free of charge and without any conditions. The news of the attack were still a shock to the imperial citizens, but the Empire came out on top and as the good guys.
When the Emperor gave his speech about the incident, the ISI operatives who had foiled large parts of the plan and limited the aftermath were sitting around a bar table, clutching drinks made with Gard's personal moonshine, and watched the press conferense on the HoloNet.
Then they toasted each other, downed their drinks, and dispersed. Just another day at work. Jorm was with them. As he took his leave now, he sure hoped that his next job wouldn't require him to behave that much.