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VIOLENCE was not the Jedi way. They were peaceful, selfless, too diplomatic for their own good. They did not utilise their power to its full potential, and wore the title of heroes across the galaxy without being able to commit the necessary actions, all while preaching an emotionless and controlled life.
That was what Araminta had been taught, that was what she had been told. She was an assassin who stood under the Jedi and was looked down on, shunned and stared at in horror for her actions and associations. Violence was her way, it had always been.
But Windu had killed someone, without mercy or hesitation, and no one batted an eyelid. It shook her, with spite and frustration. Because he would not be prosecuted or suffer the consequences she did. And it cemented that she would be executed if she did not fulfil her duty. She took it as a threat, a reminder.
Predictable.
Obi-wan Kenobi however was unpredictable, unfortunately, as Araminta desperately searched for her mission amongst the battle, tearing her eyes away from the armoured body at her feet.
She felt horribly exposed and vulnerable in the warzone, unprepared and unfamiliar with such an expansive fight. She was an assassin, not a warrior, but she was nothing if not adaptable, she kept telling herself, as she pushed through, the heat of blasters and sabres smothering her.
And amidst the chaos, someone pinned her, heel slamming into her ribcage, while the other leg's shin pressed against the back of her neck. Araminta folded, knees buckling as she struggled not to be held down.
Rizeryn had returned, using the cover of battle to slip in and attack, and no one cared enough for Araminta to fight her battles for her. They both knew that, as Araminta hit the sand.
"He wants you alive, but I can still break every bone in your body to get you to come with," she hissed, breath brushing Araminta's ears.
"You'll have to kill me," Araminta spat, twisting her wrist and blindly firing her blaster. Rizeryn moved to dodge it, and her change in position weakened her hold, as Araminta brought her elbow up and wrestled her off. Amongst the scuffle, her blaster was knocked from her hand, leaving her completely unarmed. "I don't have the time for this," Araminta hissed, exasperated, eyes scanning the battlefield quickly for Obi-wan.
"Look at you!" Rizeryn jeered. "A Jedi."
"Hardly," Araminta deadpanned. "Tell me, how do you actually plan to get me off this battlefield?"
"You're small," Rizeryn said, simply.
"That's fair," Araminta sighed, eyes zeroing in on the sheath strapped to Rizeryn's upper thigh. Araminta darted before the annoyingly talkative girl could say anything else, moving forward, and reaching a hand out.
Rizeryn moved to block, going high, but Araminta's fingers went straight past her blockade, past her ribs and any weak point. Araminta slid Rizeryn's knife out of its sheath, the blade feeling like home in her hand, as she skipped back, gripping the blade horizontally, feeling ten times more capable with the weapon in her hand.
