Mustafar
A bright red spark suddenly erupted from the durasteel door, a piercing light of plasma that stabbed through the solid metal. For half a moment it lay in place, simply sitting there and slowly burning through the thick Durasteel.
Then, slowly it began to cut.
Within half a moment it had carved it's way through the door, forming a neat cut out within the very center of the durasteel. For a moment it stuck there, then the plasma spark retreated. The door let out a soft over glow, red and super heated. A bit of pressure and suddenly the cut out circle erupted forward and into the dust ridden facility. The carved metal fell to the floor with a loud clang and clutter, crashing against the ground. A heated wind pressed into the facility, cutting over control consoles and pushing aside large piles of dust that had long since gathered.
A figure slipped through the opening, hooded, cloaked, and masked in his hand a bright red lightsaber. It was the only source of light within the facility, the only thing that seemed to contain any life within it at all. For a moment the figure simply stood there, it's gaze falling over the facility itself and eventually stopping on the large table contained within the center of the room.
Quickly the hooded man stepped further into the facility itself, passing along the table and holding his lightsaber in front of him.
Mustafar had many such refineries, thousands of them. There were dozens, perhaps hundreds that had been abandoned over the years by various corporations and organizations. This one...this one had belonged to a family now gone, sold off to a faceless corporation. Here the figure would hope to find records of the past, or at least a clue to it.
