All of my most bitter memories have to do with my flesh, Jayan. All of what you taught me, when it did not involve combat, was how my skin dictates that I am a monster. Can I be anything but enraged when another being cannot see past it? I have no patience in this, nor do I want it. Let any fool look down on me for my appearance, and I will give them reason to fear me for my appearance. I will justify this claim that I am nothing but a bastard child of darkness.
Perhaps it is true that this is a quick path for my hatred. I could have been beaten into the dirt today because of how much I loathe being referred to as “red”. I have heard it all too often, and I think the last of my patience left me when this massive beast of a man, a true monster in his appearance, singled me out with the mention of my flesh hue. I did not care, Jayan. I was tired. Perhaps even looking for a fight, or to prove something that I know not what it was. Fight him I did, no matter how much taller or wider or skilled. I would do so again.
Although, had it not been for Mako I am certain that I would be in a sorry state. He should have allowed for that. Perhaps then I would not still be so angry.
We finished our mission, with a minor detour that was unsuccessful involving a Mandalorian bounty hunter. We were not as successful as I would have liked, but that is the nature of business. The woman we dealt with was cutthroat, and being that we are all hired muscle none of us was well equipped to deal with negotiations not involving a sword or blaster. Regardless, it is pay and it is a job that is done.