Mandan Hidatsa
Jul 8th, 2010, 04:10:25 PM
Mandan Hidatsa's brow furrowed. While many of his fellow Jedi exercised control over themselves to such a degree that they could stave off the sweat that such activity caused - provided they were concentrating, at least - Mandan relished it. Aside from the obvious sentience part, it was the strange and inefficient little things that his body did which reminded him that he was alive, and not some illusory construct.
Like a droid.
At the best of times, Mandan was hardly renowned for maintaining control over his emotions, though for the most part he kept the darker, less desirable emotions at bay. Now wasn't one of those times. A splash of anger and a dash of hate coloured his mind as he lunged, viridian lightsaber painting a blurred arc through the air as eyes - another inefficiency of most living beings - struggled to process such a swift movement. It had been two months since Geonosis; two months since the life of his master had been claimed. Not by a Sith, like the traitor Count Dooku. Not by a bounty hunter who had perfected the art of slaying Jedi. His master had been slain by a simple droid, operated by a simplistic program that had been developed by a scientist in a room perhaps decades before. His master hadn't been killed by something that as sentient; not by something that could innovate, or think. He had been killed by a mere tool.
He might as well have been slaughtered by a socket wrench.
Mandan knew it was irrational; but then, that was largely the point of such emotions, in as much as they had one. Another inefficiency of organic life: thought processes and fuctions that defied all logic. Usually, he would have indulged in an ironic chuckle, but right now he was far from amused.
His lightsaber smashed another, light exploding as the two blades met. His jaw clenched, tight, lips curling back to flash his teeth as his muscles strained to force the enemy blade aside.
Like a droid.
At the best of times, Mandan was hardly renowned for maintaining control over his emotions, though for the most part he kept the darker, less desirable emotions at bay. Now wasn't one of those times. A splash of anger and a dash of hate coloured his mind as he lunged, viridian lightsaber painting a blurred arc through the air as eyes - another inefficiency of most living beings - struggled to process such a swift movement. It had been two months since Geonosis; two months since the life of his master had been claimed. Not by a Sith, like the traitor Count Dooku. Not by a bounty hunter who had perfected the art of slaying Jedi. His master had been slain by a simple droid, operated by a simplistic program that had been developed by a scientist in a room perhaps decades before. His master hadn't been killed by something that as sentient; not by something that could innovate, or think. He had been killed by a mere tool.
He might as well have been slaughtered by a socket wrench.
Mandan knew it was irrational; but then, that was largely the point of such emotions, in as much as they had one. Another inefficiency of organic life: thought processes and fuctions that defied all logic. Usually, he would have indulged in an ironic chuckle, but right now he was far from amused.
His lightsaber smashed another, light exploding as the two blades met. His jaw clenched, tight, lips curling back to flash his teeth as his muscles strained to force the enemy blade aside.