Six of One

[Amaros Koine]

Amaros remained silent, letting the wave of anger and words slam into him. He didn't brace himself against it, didn't try to muscle his way through the impacting tsunami: he listened, trying to let the words and their meanings drench him thoroughly, willing them to sink in and be duly considered. He had provoked this, and for better or worse, this was the reaction: he owed it to himself, and to Sadie, to make the most of this opportunity to understand better. Yes, part of him bristled at the tone, and at the accusation that he didn't understand and was treating her the way everyone else did - blatantly he was not, hence this very confrontation. But words said in anger often had deeper honesty in them, and what Sadie had said to him now was perhaps something that needed to be heard more badly than she realised.

When he finally spoke, his tone was not apologetic; but it wasn't stern either. It walked an oddly calm path, methodical steps and simple statements.

"I didn't ask your uncle, because it isn't his place to answer."

He started in the middle, but it was the question that felt the most like a beginning.

"In the circles we move in, people love their secrets, and their whispers. I don't. If I want to know something about you, I ask you, especially about something like this. And, to me, doing otherwise would be disrespectful."

His brow furrowed, thoughts turning briefly to the way he had parsed his question.

"I asked the way that I asked, because I see how people are around you. No one quite knows what to do or say, so they dance around, or they worry too much, or they try and find ways to convince you that everything is going to magically get easier. I won't. I refuse to. You're not a child to be coddled, you're a gorram badass: and I will treat you as such, until something convinces me that you aren't. I'm sure as hell not going to act as if you are too fragile to cope with a simple question. It's the same thing as before. Respect."

A small sigh escaped, Ammo's shoulders shifting in a slight shrug that his expression tried to emulate. The furrow quickly returned however, and his attention shifted, eyes trying to seek out Sadie's direct attention.

"You're wrong about one thing, though: your scars aren't nothing. Maybe they aren't some badge of honour the way that battle scars are. Maybe they're too painful a reminder to be a source of strength. But you are a survivor. Not because you did anything to fight your way through whatever that assclown did to you, but because you are still here. That shit happened to you, and you endured. Lesser people wouldn't have. Yeah, he kept you alive because he chose to, but look at how much punishment you were able to endure. You're right, scars just show what didn't kill you: but they're also a lesson, in who not to trust, in what you can survive through, and in how fucked up this galaxy can be."

He glanced away, eyes straying to the Crimson Tide, considering the proxy for Sadie's misfit family that was contained within.

"I don't know how they see you. I don't know how you see yourself. What I see though is a tough son of a bitch, who's been through torture without breaking, and has already bounced back enough to walk out here and get half way to kicking my oversised Mandalorian ass."

There was a small smile, though it was fleeting.

"And if you ask me?"

His thumb tapped at the tattoo on his chest.

"I can't speak to anything else this Bog guy carved on you, but this thing belongs. Be proud that's there, because you're worthy of it. You've got beskar in your bones, kid - have enough respect for yourself to realise that."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

Wisdom came in all sorts of forms and ways and by the time the big guy was dishing out his own brand, Sadie'd gone and cooled off enough to actually listen. Not to mention have a few breaths to realize that she really probably hadn't actually been all that mad at Amaros at all, not really anyhow. Deep down she'd known he hadn't asked her about the scars to upset her, at least not really upset her; maybe throw her off a bit for the purposes of the exercise but certainly not to cause the miserable feelings that were still working their way through her. Nah, as Ammo explained away and Sadie knew he were speaking the truth she also had to go and face that the real reason she was angry was just her. Her own inability to not be bothered by it all. Reminders and reasons aside, she didn't want to go around being the fragile thing it seemed like the others thought she was. She didn't want people utterly avoiding the subject, but at the same damn time she didn't want them making public announcements 'bout it all either. Was a damn fine line she was expecting people to walk; unfair really.

And really, wasn't Ammo just doing his best to walk that line in his own way? Wasn't that all she could ever really ask of someone? Hell, he respected her enough to not be fake about it, at least. That counted for a whole heap, didn't it? And at the end of the damn day, wasn't he supposed to be challenging her? Wasn't that exactly what he'd done?

Frak sake.

"You do get that secrets an' dren are literally th' family business if not more 'n that?" She finally replied with a half smile of her own that she didn't really feel but attempted anyway.

Against better judgement she tugged up the plaid over-shirt and the black tank underneath up off the marred skin of her right side. Weren't a sight she was unfamiliar with, though that was usually post-shower pre-caf grump times and she always just ended up making a face or wanting to punch the mirror. Right now though? Well, Sadie had to be honest she wasn't damn sure what was going on in her head.

"I'd go an' apologize for him doin' this without y'r permission, but kriff him. He don't get that right."

The general threat of her eyes going and making more of a fool out of her by leaking everywhere was mostly gone, but she still felt a hitch in her throat.

"Y' sure y' feel that way, though? I get that y' ain't really th' type to go an' say somethin' just t' make someone feel better or any of that dren but... Still. If it's one thing I'm startin' t' learn it's the importance of family an' such. Mine don't exactly have any sort of symbol that reflects us or nothin', but yours does."

Sadie shrugged her shoulder, brushing off just enough sensibility to allow for a bit of the banter they'd had before to regroup. "I mean, awesome as I am an' all that..." It faltered with a laugh that said she damn well didn't feel what she said, but why not try, eh?

"I just... it don't feel right now that I know it means somethin' t' someone. Worthy or not, wasn't his t' go an' give, you know?"

[Amaros Koine]

An actual, proper smile formed in response to that.

"That's a common misconception, actually. A clan and a family aren't quite the same thing. A family is blood, whereas a clan is more -"

He trailed off, struggling for how to translate the notion into offworlder terms. It was such a simple premise when you understood it, the feudal clustering of Mandalorian bloodlines united under a shared banner, united by tradition and honour and legacy. Mandalorian was not a race, it was a religion, a lifestyle, a conscious choice. Yet, there were those on Mandalore, the so called New Mandalorians, who couldn't grasp those values. How could he expect them to be understood by someone from worlds away.

"Being Mandalorian is not about birth, it's about belief. It is about the code of conduct that you follow, and the way that you live your life. You do not need to be born a Mandalorian: it is something you become, a choice and an oath that you make. The first Mandalorians were a race of ancient non-humans called the Tuang, but over the millennia, humans, and Rodians, Nautolans, Devaronians, Mirialans - they found a spark of something within themselves, and they committed to the Mandalorian way. Some people are born into it, sure, just as they would be with any other belief system. But a Mandalorian born to it is no different, no better or worse, than one who chooses it for themselves."

Another moment of silence passed, Amaros contemplating just how deep into history Sadie had the patience for him to delve.

"That mentality is why my forebears chose this symbol for our clan. It symbolises coming together, from across the stars, to unite as part of a stronger whole. For generations, the Koines strove to exemplify that. Anyone from anyone is welcome. Looking around at your life, your family, and the strength you're found through forging something together? Yeah, I'm sure I feel that way - and I would be proud, and honoured, to know that the both of us are marked as that same thing."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

To be whole and totally honest with herself and the 'verse at large, Sadie had no clue how to react. It weren't nothing overwhelming or scary or something to make her need a few moments to herself, but it was complicated all the same. Kinda more reassuring than it had any real right to be too. Maybe she was just kinda emotionally drained from it all to have the mental wherewithal to fight back and find those little things that let her twist stuff.

She's kinda wanted to interrupt and correct the man when it came to blood and family. Sadie's notions were quite contrary after all, and she suspected she had a certain grumpy arse droid to thank for the basics but she knew it was a culture thing that Ammo was explaining, not gut instinct that defined words differently than they were probably supposed to be.

It did make sense though, aside from the whole set of ideas and semi religious sounding stuff. Was even admirable in a way. Clashed a whole lot with what she certainly had thought of Mandalorians, though. Of course, she didn't exactly know a whole heap about them aside from the stray curse word in their language and the fact they seemed universally badass.

Still, it did all kinda leave her speechless, which was sorta a newish feeling for someone who tended to overshoot their mouth. So instead she let the side of her shirt drop back into place.

"Well," she started, kinda hesitant like, not wanting to muck this all up. "Gotta say bit unsure how t' feel 'bout that. Kinda honored and baffled, I s'pose that y' ain't just begrudin'ly acceptin' of it; of me. Not sure I can really live up t' all your folks represent, but knowin' what I know now, I guess... Well... Just another one of them reasons t' try an' be better, yeah?"

[Amaros Koine]

"I'm sure your father has some Jedi bullshit on the subject of trying," Amaros countered, with a chuckle.

Quickly the faint note of laughter became a sigh; not out of frustration, but more to purge the sentiment from his lungs as he steered back towards more reassuring words.

"All of that stuff about honour and belief? That's just my way of looking at it. The point is, Mandalorian is a state of mind. And hell, we as a civilization can't even agree on the basics. For the old school True Mandalorians, it's all about tenets and codes of conduct, and being the right kind of warrior. For the True Mandalorians, it's namby-pamby pacifism, law and order, art and architecture. For the Death Watch, it's being a giant bag of dicks. For Clan Saxon, it was more of a kneel down, open wide, and let the Empire stick it wherever they like sort of thing. You get bounty hunters like Clan Fett used to be. You get Rebellion heroes like Clan Wren."

He shrugged it off, halting a ramble of history that could have continued far longer. In truth, Amaros had no idea how many clans there were - possibly too many to count - but he was certain each of them viewed their heritage and their responsibilities in their own unique way.

"Clan Koine is about coming together, not just as individuals, but mindsets, too. Point is, you have nothing to live up to, except yourself. Be true to yourself, embrace who you are. At the end of the day, is there anything else that could ever be expected of us?"

[Sadie K'Vesh]

"Well, I s'pose that d'pends on th' kind a person y' are. Pretty sure there's a whole heap a' folks that could go an' use a right big life adjustment."

Should have been clear by the smirk that colored her voice as well as tugged at her lips that Sadie were just mincing words at that point.

"But 'm guessin' those sort ain't exactly up t' snuff."

Was one of them joking ways to avoid expressing the sort of things that Sadie was feeling. Everything was muddled and stirred about and as far as Sadie was concerned, a bit of booze was downright on the necessary to make sense of it all.

"C'mon big guy, what say we call it a day, head t' th' pub, an' y' can regale me 'bout your people more." Sadie went and offered. "But first, put y're shirt back on, yeah? Don't think we want t' go givin' no lil' ol' ladies a heart attack, yeah?"

[Amaros Koine]

Ammo's brow furrowed for a moment, eyes glancing down to regard the glistening curves of his muscle-bound body. As his gaze returned to Sadie, a single eyebrow arched upwards and then, after a lingering moment of intense eye contact, a single pectoral twitched on its own.

The Mandalorian's expression quickly collapsed into a grin, and then a chuckle. "Fine, kiddo, if you insist," he responded with a theatrical sigh, grabbing his discarded shirt, and beginning the process of redressing himself with relative haste. He paused though, shirt halfway down his abdomen, his vision straying for a moment to regard the Crimson Tide in the distance. A flicker of his smile returned for a fleeting moment. "But only because I don't want to make your man feel inadequate."

In response to the questioning look that Sadie offered in response, Ammo looked past her, gesturing with his sculpted jawline towards the figure slowly emerging from the ship behind them.

"Hey lover-boy!" he added loudly, deliberate efforts made to maximise the potential awkwardness of the moment. A smirk was thrown at Sadie, dispelling any illusions that this was anything but intentional. "Turn around and grab your cred chit. Sadie owes me beers, and she said you'd pay for them."