[ 013 ] assassins don't like pirates

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     A YEAR AGO, Araminta had despised the idea of returning to Coruscant and seeing Mace Windu again in light of his attitude towards her (even if, in hindsight, it was fair). She still remembered the conversation with Anakin as if it were a week ago, the night before where she had almost stabbed him out of instinct and they had been at constant war, children banging heads and fighting at every turn. It was odd to think of the time that had passed and the way everything had changed since the first few months she had spent at Obi-wan's side, which was why she tried not to.

She supposed that infiltrating a ship to rescue Anakin from the grasp of Count Dooku was a similar feeling to that day, only heightened ten times over. She had only come face-to-face with the Separatist leader once, and never had she felt so small, which was saying something given her height, and so prepared to keel over and give up. He had her questioning her ability to survive, something she had always found security in, and had her reconsidering every decision leading up to that moment.

Araminta thought about that moment a lot, when she had stood up to him and everything had changed, when she had gone against what she had thought was her nature despite everything in her screaming to run and survive, which was why the idea of recreating the scene wasn't in her favour. In turn, that meant that her and Obi-wan's current rescue mission might end that way, and it was making her tail stand on end.

After infiltrating the frigate and discarding the restricting space gear with a sneer, the idea that the head Separatist could be onboard was distracting, but she pushed it to the back of her mind as she kept step with Obi-wan. She had long developed the habit of keeping close, rather than leading or bringing up the rear, not trusting anything to happen in that space.

The droids on board were scattered, which was expected since the frigate was completely alone and so far out in the Outer Rim. Maybe it really was an unimportant, lone ship with no chance of the Count on board. Araminta knew that was unusually positive of her.

As such, they experienced little resistance, able to sneak past the droids in an attempt to not set off the alarms if the Count truthfully was on board.

"Easy," Araminta had told Obi-wan when he had told her the plan. Stealth had always been her forte, the one thing she had excelled at amongst Octavian's students. Everyone had had their specialities– Araminta's had been the ability to lodge a knife into someone's without ever being seen.

It gave her a boost of confidence whenever they didn't run into a fight. Araminta simply worked best in the shadows.

The pair finally reached the prison aisle without being spotted, a moment of relief as the door closed behind them and no sounds of detection followed. Araminta sighed as they moved forward, ears keen for trouble as Obi-wan led the way.

"Which one do you think he's in?" Araminta whispered, standing on her tiptoes so the Jedi could hear her. Obi-wan turned to her, furrowing his brows at her innocent expression. He paused for a moment, before smirking and beelining for one door.

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