A lonely star cruiser drifted through an inky black void. Long ago deprived of any driving force or living crew, it was left drifting at almost exactly the speed it had been when its unknown killer struck. Today, however, was its final day in solitude.
Out of hyperspace came a Marauder-class cruiser, followed by six Razor-starfighters. The cruiser immediately fired a tractor beam, latching the derelict ship in place. The razors advanced, docking with the now-airless bays, and releasing a salvage crew with thick space suits. They waded aboard, in through the only slightly damaged wreckage. They activated a small device that resealed the chamber and began furnishing it with atmosphere. When it had finished, they crawled out of their suits.
"My god, thing must be ancient." One murmured. The six men stepped carefully toward the cargo hold.
"Ooh, this is going to be a jackpot." Another chuckled. His companions glared at him. He slid his hand over a bulkhead, noticing an engraved marking.
"Hey Taman, come look at this." He motioned for Taman, the group's expert on ancient culture, to come toward him.
"Wow... This is a Rakata insignia. That dates this ship back... about six thousand years at the least." He chuckled. "My friends, we have just struck the mother load." They all gave a cheer. A rustling noise from the corner of the room jerked their attention back to reality.
"Impossible... There can't be anything alive on this ship after all these years..." But he was wrong. A stasis tank, disturbed by the docking, fell suddenly and crashed on the floor of the hold. Its inhabitant stood, clearly able to regain consciousness on his own...
"Fools..." Whispered the Rakatan as he moved his hand. Waves of energy seemed to course through his fingers, sending pulses of light through the hold. The last thing Taman and his group ever saw was the ship being torn asunder, as their Marauder was sent decimated, bulkheads flying across space. All that was left was one, carefully preserved, starfighter.
"I'm... Back..."
The planet of Naboo was uneventful and strangely drowsy today. Joseph pulled his old freighter carefully onto a docking platform somewhere on the outskirts of Theed as he reviewed today's plan with his comrades.
"Ender, you're up."
"Right." The one called Ender, a scrawny man with short black hair and a rather large blaster on his back stood. "I'll slip into the palace and hack into the security fields on Hangar 8311. Then I'll contact the Xenophobe in orbit and have them launch the tractor beam at the other hangars. Then Elijah's up." Elijah stood to share his part of the plan, a large, dark-tan man with no visible weapons.
"As soon as the security fields are down, I'll take out the two side-entrance guards and send a general alert for somewhere on the other side of the city. As soon as the guards are occupied, I'll come back for this piece of junk." Joseph, a thin, tall man with dark blonde hair, stood again as the other two sat down.
"Right. And then I'll eliminate any remaining guards and take our prize. This should go flawlessly."