Neither Star Wars, nor any of its characters are owned by me, because if they were I wouldn't be writing this. So far the characters are all original, but that'll change.
Though this is my first Fanfiction, I'd like as much criticism as possible, as I'd really like to work on my writing.
The Force Exchange.
Chapter 1.
Hiding.
Tyve crawled through the duct so silently that you'd have a better chance hearing a butterfly flap its wings on, but Tyve feel like he was. Barely two weeks after he had become Padawan to Master Durke he was crawling around in a narrow dark tube. All for revenge.
No. Not for revenge. That is not the Jedi's way.
Tyve continuously told himself this, but not to any tangible purpose. It was all he could do not to leap out of the duct and hunt down the cloaked figure, slaughtering any resistance he came across.
He was not driven not to do this by the fact that a Jedi does not seek vengeance. He slowly crawled forward, hoping the guards couldn't hear him. After he had been crawling for what seemed hours, though in reality a much shorter time, he came to his goal.
Leaning down into a grate, depress slightly in the hollow duct, he listened intently for the conversation he hoped he'd be able to hear.
The small room seemed to be barely enough room for the two already occupying it to be comfortable in. In truth it was not bad. Though it was quite small it held a soft leather couch at one end, near the door. Along with this were two matching chairs, set near a small table of fine craftsmanship, which looked to be from Kashyyyk. At one of the chairs one of the two was seated, staring down at a datapad on the table. The other, a woman, was leaning against the wall, dexterously tossing a small metal card up, and catching it with only two fingers. She wore a large black cloak, in design very similar to Jedi's robes, but she had the hood back, and her long dark hair fell down to her shoulders.
She stared down at the chronometer on the device on her wrist.
"How long with that blasted son of a sith schutta keep us waiting?" she spat out, dropping the small card. As she grumbled and picked up the card the man at the table sat up from his reading, looked over at her
"I will not tolerate another interruption from you Ellye", he said glaring menacingly, "You are not being paid to tell me the time. He'll be here, and his reputation is worth any wait he decides to put us through." The man turned back to his datapad, when a series of taps came at the door. The man at the table slowly raised his head, and just as the second set of taps began to sound he waved his hand towards the door. A light on the small panel on the wall switched from green to blue. The door slid open, revealing the man standing there. He was dress in robes similar to the ones the woman had, but he wore the hood, creating a nearly impenetrable shroud, but that which was visible obviously was a mask, hiding the newcomer's identity even without the cloak.
Around his waist was a small belt with a few pouches, only big enough to hold credits or power cells for a blaster, which was hooked onto his belt above the right hip. The blaster was a custom job, made from the components of many different weapons making it look particularly deadly. But not as deadly as the horrible thing attached to his left. The woman, Ellye, recognized it almost immediately and gasped. It was an ancient Sith Pain Blade. One of the only artifacts left from the times of the great Sith, it still inflicted horror in many, and those who knew about them feared them more than almost anything else. There were very few, and the few that existed were almost all stored in hidden corners in the tombs of the great Sith, guarded by huge fearsome beasts. It was a long as a common vibroblade, its hilt was black, and at the butt of the hilt was a small ball of counterweight, covered in small spikes, which were commonly dipped in Sith poison. The blade curved up a bit at the tip, and the edge consisted of large serrated edges. The truly horrible thing was that the weapon contained a small power cell that would empty its entire charge into the victim with the press on a button on the hilt. The blade the man wore a badly damaged by time, weather and battle, and a small portion of the tip was broken off, but it still struck fear into all.
"You're late" Ellye said coldly, though she never really said it, for as soon as she had even thought of saying it the man in the chair had spun around, holding his hand up, with the palm up. There was a spark and red energy spun up from his hand. The streams of energy weaved around each other until they came together and there was a deadly sounding crunch and the energies disappeared. The entire event was hidden from the newcomer, but from the startled jump the female had made, he realized what had happened.
"Now then", said the man in the chair turning around, "Is it done?"
The cloaked figure seemed to smile saying, "You should have sent rats. It would have been cheaper."
"Ah! Excellent! Well done! Don't worry, you'll be well paid."
"Good, It's not like you to shy away from a large sum, I like you for that Sern", muttered the assassin, "Now, you had said that you had another job for me?"
Sern, the man sitting at the table held up his hand, and Ellye tossed the metal card into it. Sern stood up and, reaching across the desk, handed the card to the assassin. As he looked at the card the assassin grunted. "A kid? I think you seriously underestimate my abilities."
"I know you may think so, but he easily gave my two best to slip, he may only be a padawan, but he's smart as hell, so watch yourself."
The assassin scoffed. "Right, watch my back, whatever. What the kids' name?"
"This is the part you'll love", said Sern, "He's Tyve Yunsi, His master was the Durke coward."
The assassin smiled.
Suddenly there was a loud thump above them, coming from the air vents.
"An Intruder!" yelled Sern, who then grabbed the comlink from his belt, "Guardhouse, we have an intruder in the ducts. Make sure he doesn't get out alive."