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CORUSCANT, 22BBY

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CORUSCANT, 22BBY

MARGO KING, ESTEEMED JEDI KNIGHT of the Galactic Republic, thinks that she's skilled in many areas. Lightsaber combat—check. Diplomacy—well, she's not bad at it, exactly. Slicing into the Temple's records? Check, though Mace Windu would probably have a heart attack if he knew about that little stunt. Beating Anakin Skywalker's ass in a sparring match? Check. Even if the Council did chew her out for it afterward. She's pretty sure Master Qui-Gon had been amused.

Overall, she thinks she's a pretty good Jedi. She's calm (most of the time, anyway), cool, collected, and doesn't crack under pressure, Patience, however, she has an issue with.

"Force, Ella," she grumbles to her friend in the pilot's seat, and she makes a show of checking the chrono on her wrist for effect.. "You're going so slow."

True to form, Ella gives her a sideways glance. "I'm observing the speed limit," she points out as she pilots the speeder down one of Coruscant's many busy skylanes. With the windows open like this, the breeze catches their hair and ruffles it. Margo feels a sudden pang of regret over chopping her hair to just below the chin earlier this year—even if it does work better in battle, it also gets in her face. Constantly.

The corner of Ella's lips tugs up into a smirk as Margo spits out a mouthful of hair. "You're no fun," Margo huffs, brushing it all back from her face. "Speed limits are for grandmas who don't appreciate the art of piloting, Ella."

Her friend shudders, sounding horrified as she says, "You'd call your piloting ability an art?"

"It's all about the ride!" Margo emphasizes her words with a grand gesture. She thinks Master Quinlan would be quite proud of her for choosing this particular hill to die on.

"Margo, the number of times that we've almost died because you wanted to 'enjoy the ride'—"

"That time on Nal Hutta does not count, I told you, Ella." Margo shifts in her seat, watching as they pass by the Senate Building. If she squints, she can almost make out the figure of Senator Amidala in her offices, in the midst of paperwork.

She's met the Nabooian Senator several times, and they'd developed an easy rapport. Padmé is real and oh-so-genuine, with a sharp wit and a sarcastic tongue that could rival Quinlan Vos' at the best of moments. Margo genuinely likes Senator Amidala. It's a pity that her time is mostly spent off-world these days.

"There's still an abundance of other occasions—"

"Fine! But if you'd let me drive to the Temple, at least, I could have gotten us there faster." Margo leans back in her seat and crosses her arms over her chest, sulking. "Why did we have to land in a civvie spaceport? Customs took far too long."

"Because we were supposed to be bounty hunters, remember?" Ella points out. "If any of those Seps were tracking us, it would have been highly suspicious when two hardened bounty hunters pulled into the Jedi Temple's landing bay."

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