Mirta Gev

I’m sharing this here because I find it extremely frustrating that the article and web pages for it were all taken down. This is from another persons server, of whom I’m a member of, and I love reading this. I believe this is a direct copy minus the art, and edits made to formatting.

The Mandalorians: People and Culture is an article in Star Wars Insider 86 about Mandalorian culture. It was written by Karen Traviss and illustrated by Tom Hodges.

“Across five millennia, the Mandalorians fought with and against a thousand armies on a thousand worlds. They learned to speak as many languages and absorbed weapons, technology and tactics from every war. And yet, despite the overwhelming influence of alien cultures, and the absence of a true home world and even species, their own language not only survived, but changed little; their way of life and their philosophy remained untouched; and their ideals and sense of family, of identity, of nation, were only strengthened. Armour is not what makes a Mandalorian. Armour is simply a manifestation of an impenetrable, unassailable heart.”

Mandalorians: Identity and Language, published by the Galactic Institute of Anthropology

Origins

Mandalorians are people of contradictions. They have an unmistakable identity, yet they’re not a true race. They have no country in the conventional sense and are scattered across the galaxy. These feared warriors have a savage reputation, but they cherish family life and will adopt children orphaned by war, rather than kill them as other species might. This odd blend of tough pragmatism, brutality and affectionate family life makes them a mystery to many.

And they’re probably not even the original Mandalorian race. Anthropologists disagree about their roots; did they begin as humans or, as a few academics still claim, a gray-skinned non-human species? Whichever theory you find most convincing, they became a species of predominantly human nomadic warriors.

For the vast majority of species, culture is the unique expression of their being. When species are overrun by other cultures, and adopt their beliefs and practices, they still retain something of their old ways.

But the Mandalorians are an exception. They adopted a culture and became completely defined by it. Their nearest parallel, ironically, is the Jedi – with whom the Mandalorians have had so much antagonism and conflict.

Whatever drove the first humans to adopt Mandalorian customs and language, they remain a people who will accept anyone willing to follow their code, and non-human species are welcomed into the community. Mandalorians believe that you are what you do, not what an accident of birth dictates.

But they’re still predominantly human, and a large percentage of the population shows genetic markers typical of the peoples of Concord Dawn and nearby planets. Although there is no true Mandalorian ethnic type, the prevalence of common gene clusters indicates that specific populations were either absorbed by the Mandalorians or joined them.

Concord Dawn is a good example. Jango Fett, one of the icons of Mandalorian history, was adopted. And yet his genome already shared many markers with his adopted community. Without deliberate planning, Mandalorians nevertheless selectively bred themselves for certain traits that are now considered their defining characteristics; discipline, close family bonds, extraordinary physical fighting skills and intense loyalty

Warrior Nomads

Nomadic people prize portable skills more than possessions, and this aspect of the Mando mindset still underpin their society even when settled on Mandalore. Even when living in settled communities on Mandalore, their nomadic warrior ethics remains.

Inevitably, a nomadic warrior race with no fixed territory to defend becomes associated with mercenary activity. For centuries the Mando’ade – or children of Mandalore, as they call themselves – have been seen as little more than bounty hunters, assassins and mercenaries.

But not all Mando’ade spend their lives as hired soldiers. Their mercenary history is very recent and relatively brief, and they have other trades related to soldiering that earn them a living when they aren’t at war.

Many, scattered across the galaxy in small communities, earn their living as weaponsmiths, bodyguards and other occupations that the host population finds too dangerous or too dirty. Many remain in the Mandalore sector, working the land or labouring in factories and workshops. All of them, though, are capable of becoming an army at a moments notice.

Over the centuries, some have questioned the Mandalorian compulsion to cling to nomadic ways despite having a home world in Mandalore. The practice, though, is more than attachment to tradition. Mandalorians spread themselves to avoid presenting enemies with a convenient target. Despite repeated attacks that were thought to have wiped them out, the resilient Mandalorians kept coming back.

While they have earned their living more recently as soldiers of fortune, most of the Mandalorians’ history has been spent fighting for their own purposes, not for others. But although they’re a ruthless enemy, they display an unexpectedly gentle side in warfare by adopting war orphans.

What Makes a Mandalorian?

Geography has played a nebulous role in Mandalorian identity. Although Mandalore is regarded as their home world, many Mandalorians were not born there and many have never even seen the planet.

Their society places no emphasis on birthplace, species, or citizenship, and so Mando’ade have no “state” as modern galactic politics understands it. They ignore rank and status and prefer to judge by actions and achievement, a true meritocracy; the Mandalore, or leader of the clans, is the closest they have to a head of state. And yet nobody mistakes Mandalorians for any other people when they see them.

Mando’ade regard the following six acts – known as the Six Actions, or Resol’Nare – as central to Mandalorian identity: wearing armour, speaking the Mandalorian language, defending themselves and their families, raising their children as Mandalorians, contributing to the clan’s welfare and rallying to the Mand’alor when called to arms. Anyone who practices them is considered a Mando’ad. The emphasis is on carrying out these actions daily, not simply paying lip service to them.

For a people who appear to have little interest in rank and hierarchy, Mandalorians are extremely co-operative in combat. The rugged individuality so marked in their approach to most things is set aside to reach a common goal, and they’ll do whatever it takes to achieve their objective. Their fighting forces settle into informal command structures, almost without thought or effort, focused on the outcome and not personal ambition. This instinctive flexibility is also what makes them superb mercenaries.

Because they’re self-selecting, they attract and retain people with the same mindset and genetic predisposition, which reinforces these traits. The more that soldiers are inclined to co-operate on the battlefield, the more likely they are to survive and produce children with the same characteristics.

Mandalorian Society

There is no gender in the Mandalorian language. This mirrors the equal status of men and women and the general flexibility of societal roles, despite what appears to many to be a traditional division of tasks along gender lines.

Men are expected to be warriors and to raise and train their sons to be the same. Women maintain the home wherever the nomads happen to travel and raise daughters. But women are also expected to have the combat skills of a man in order to defend the homestead when the men are away. Women also fight alongside men on the battlefield. If they have no dependent children to care for, they’re expected to share the responsibilities of defence and warfare.

Not surprisingly, the Mandalorian female ideal that men respect is not fragile and graceful, but physically strong, enduring and gritty. The word laandur (delicate) is a common insult among women. If you imply that a Mando woman is a bad mother, a poor fighter or a laandur (weakling) you’ll find out the hard way that she’s none of these things.

Marriage is expected to be for life – which is sometimes prematurely short for warriors – and usually takes place soon after Mandalorians turn 16. A couple enters into a legal commitment simply by making the following pledge to each other:

Mandalorian

Mhi solus tome

Mhi solus dar’tome

Mhi me’dinui an

Mhi ba’juri verde

Translation

We are one when together

We are one when parted

We share all

We will raise warriors

Despite their emphasis on fidelity and chastity before marriage, Mandalorians are surprisingly forgiving and relatively unconcerned with parentage. As they prize action and pragmatism above words and intentions, they take the view that aliit ori’shya tal’din (family is more than bloodline). It’s the daily affirmation of family life that matters to them, which explains their propensity for adoption and even welcoming adults into the Mando fold. With many widows and orphans in the Mandalorian community, suitable foreign adult males are not only welcome but also necessary.

The adoption process, like marriage, is a simple statement of intention: the gai bal manda (name and soul) takes its place in the declaration ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad (I know your name as my child). That, and the ongoing adherence to the six tenets of Mandalorian life, is all it takes to become Mandalorian.

Just as it’s possible to become Mandalorian, it’s also possible to lose your Mandalorian status, renounce it, or even have it taken from you. Exile is a rare but feared punishment.

The Mandalorian Family

“Their definition of offspring or parent is more by relationship than by birth: adoption is extremely common, and it’s not unusual for mercenaries to take war orphans as their sons and daughters if they impress them with their aggression and tenacity”

Mandalorians: Identity and it’s Influence on Genome, published by the Galactic Institute of Anthropology

In exceptional circumstances, such as abandonment or a failure to live up to responsibilities, partners can divorce each other simply by declaring that they are shuk’la riduurok (a broken love). Children may also disown their father or mother by declaring them dar’buir (no longer a parent). This is rare and usually only follows abandonment or an act of cowardice that shames the family.

If the first child is a son, parents may wait eight years before having another child so that the first is old enough to accompany his father and be trained as a soldier for five years until he reaches adulthood at 13. Then his father is free to train a younger son. At 13, both girls and boys undergo a rite of passage in military and survival skills that make them legally adults.

If the firstborn is a girl, the couple may try for a son soon afterwards. A daughter will usually stay with her mother until she marries. But if a couple has only daughters, the girls will be trained as warriors by their father exactly as boys would be. Boys learn their earliest lessons from their mothers before the age of eight, so her fighting skills are critical; a couple pledges to raise warriors, and this is a joint commitment.

Women are expected to train their daughters in combat skills, but fathers also take part in their daughters’ education. Despite their fiercely masculine reputation, Mandalorian men play an active role in raising their families. Most have a strong parenting instinct, one of the reinforced genetic traits from absorbed populations. 

The parents’ duty is to train their child in survival skills and Mandalorian culture and language, and to prepare them to raise the next generation of warriors. Elders imbue children with the essential Mandalorian ideals of loyalty to clan and family, personal discipline, courage, and respect for their heritage.

The Mandalorian way of life is a dangerous one and widows and orphans are a fact of life. Families never hesitate to adopt orphans, and unmarried men and women regard it as their duty to take widows and widowers as spouses.

Religion and Spirituality

Mandalorians were once intensely religious but disillusionment with the old fanaticism and worship of war itself gave way to a far less supernatural belief system among modern Mandalorians. They now regard creation tales, such as Akaanati’kyr’oya (The War of Life and Death), as parables to illustrate a deeper philosophical meaning rather than literal supernaturalism. The stars were mythologised as fallen Kings of Mandalore, and there are tales of the mythosaurs, but the pragmatic and sceptical Mandalorians look for allegory in these stories.

The manda – best described as a combination of the collective state of being, the essence of being Mandalorian, and an oversoul – is not viewed as a literal heaven. Traditionally, the Mando afterlife is seen as a plane of spiritual energy in constant conflict between stagnation, and the opportunity for change brought about by destruction – a parallel with modern theories of cosmology. In Mandalorian myth, this conflict is symbolised by the eternal war between the sloth-god Arasuum – the personification of idle consumption and stagnation – and the vigorous destroyer god Kad Ha’rangir, who forces change and growth on the universe.

Every Mando warrior who dies is said to add to the army of the afterlife, defending wives and children living in its permanent, peaceful homestead – the only place Mandalorians believe they can ever reach a non-transitory state of existence.

The Concept of Dar-Manda

Mandalorian spirituality has its roots in pragmatism. Living the Mandalorian way and believing in the community’s ideals are all that keep a nomadic people together and preserves its identity. Without a commitment to those principles, the community either perishes or is subsumed into the host population. In the absence of a single species, ethnic heritage and fixed territory, only values and culture survive to pass from generation to generation. If they are not rigorously maintained and reinforced, the community is doomed.

Traditional Mandalorians regard a dar’manda – someone ignorant of their Mandalorian heritage – as the worst fate imaginable. It’s a difficult concept for non-Mandalorians (aruetiise, which can mean anything from non-Mando to enemy) to grasp, but it’s the equivalent of having no soul and no afterlife. The obliteration of personal identity mirrors the real obliteration that faces a people who lose their defining culture. Although few Mandalorians believe in a literal afterlife, they do believe in the manda.

To be part of the manda, the communal spiritual state of being Mando’ade, a man or woman must understand the basics of their culture and embody the ideals of the Mandalorian kar’ta – the heart, or in this case the soul. This means responsibility for the next generation, loyalty to their people, and a fighting spirit. Without this, a person is considered lost for eternity.

The duty to ensure children know enough of their heritage to be part of the manda motivated the Cuy’val Dar – the Mandalorian instructors recruited to train clone troops for the Grand Army of the Republic – to educate their men in Mando customs as they would their own sons. The instructors believed that even if the troops died in combat and never lived in a proper Mando community, they would have an eternal place in the collective consciousness.

Daily Life and Death

The Mando concept of home (yaim) describes the sense of safety and comfort that can be found even in temporary settlements. For a Mandalorian, home is where the armour lies.

Some nomadic races carry tents, but Mando’ade prefer either to build temporary structures, known as vheh’yaime, from woven green wood and mud, or to take over the homes of enemies defeated in combat. “Temporary” can mean any period of time from overnight to years. The only certainty is that the Mando soldier or family never expects any home to be a permanent one. They’re ready to move at a moments notice.

Settled races usually derive their annual festivals from the cycle of the seasons on their home world, but because Mando’ade travel from world to world, they have often become disconnected from these cycles. Those from Concord Dawn – traditionally a farming community – do still mark the end of harvest by that world’s calendar, but generally the life-cycle events – birth, coming-of-age, marriage, death – have become the only ones celebrated. The uncertainty of nomadic warrior existence means more Mandalorians celebrate life whenever they get the opportunity, enjoying ale, communal singing and relaxing with their families and clan.

For professional soldiers, sudden death is an occupational hazard. But Mandalorians don’t take it quite as calmly as aruetiise might imagine.

Burial is unusual – Mand’alor and other people of national importance are exceptions – because nomads traditionally had no cemeteries. It’s also impractical to carry dead bodies with the army when men die in combat. Communities cremate their dead if they can recover the body, scatter the ashes, and keep one of the deceased’s possessions as a memorial. This is often a whole suit of armour, which is valuable. In cases where the armour can’t be recovered or kept, parts such as helmets, gloves or buckles will be taken instead. Mando’ade recite the names of dead loved ones and comrades each night before sleep as a conscious act of keeping their memories – and so their existence – alive.

There is a single Mando’a word, aay’han, which describes the state of mind when Mandalorians savour a peaceful moment with family and comrades and also grieve for those who’ve died. The nearest Basic translation is “bittersweet”, but it hardly comes close to defining what a significant concept it is for Mandalorians. The emotion’s duality is very much in keeping with a people who are a mass of contradictions.

Food and Drink

Soldiers and nomads both need their food to be portable, nourishing and preferably to require little cooking. Mandalorians are no exception. They have a few distinctive dishes that are, at best, an acquired taste but that fit the need for food that’s more like field rations.

Gihaal is a dried fishmeal mixture like pemmican, a nutritious blend of fat and protein that lasts for years without refrigeration, but that has a pungent, clinging aroma many find offensive.

Aruetiise find some other Mandalorian foodstuffs more acceptable. Uj’alayi (uj cake) is a dense, flat and extremely sweet cake made from ground and crushed nuts, dried fruit, spices and scented uj’jayl syrup. Tihaar is a strong, colourless spirit made out of any fruit that’s available, like an eau-de-vie. While Narcolethe is often seen as the quintessential Mandalorian alcoholic drink, many Mando’ade prefer net’ra gal (black ale) which is a sweet beer very much like stout or porter. Shig is any infusion of herbs and spices drunk hot, and is often made from a quick-growing citrus-flavoured herb called behot.

Armour

Ask anyone what they associate with Mandalorians, and they’ll probably say armour. The Mando’ade call it beskar’gam, which means iron skin – an indication of how central it is to their life.

Armour especially the distinctive full-face helmet with T-shaped visor, is the enduring image the galaxy has of Mando’ade. Armour is prized, especially if it’s made from near-impervious beskar (Mandalorian iron), a metal that gets its remarkable strength not only from its natural properties but also from Mandalorian metal-working techniques. The addition of carbons in the foundry creates a molecular cage structure – lighter than normal metals and yet still remarkably strong. Repeated folding of the metal during forging further enhances beskar’s strength. It’s still regarded as more desirable than durasteel and even cortosis.

Armour is often handed down between generations, especially the beskar type. It’s intricately customised to suit the wearer’s needs and tastes and is worn by both genders.

Armour colours and markings can indicate many things, from clan or family to more ephemeral concepts such as state of mind or a particular mission. Sand-gold represents a quest for vengeance; black, for justice.

Mando’ade will often repaint their armour with new colours if they’re on a particular task or have changed clans. With the exception of the Mand’alore, markings never correspond to fixed rank – a concept they find hard to accept.

Sometimes, though, colours on armour simply express personal preferences. Blue and green are especially popular. While other soldiers opt for camouflage, Mandalorians seem not to care about being conspicuous: “It’s one thing to see us coming, and another to do something about it” is a common Mando saying.

Sigils – symbols painted on the helmet or chest-plate – often identify the wearer’s allegiance, lineage or loved ones. But they can also be marks of honour, such as the jai’galaar’la sur’haii’se (shriek-hawk eyes). Jaig, as they’re better known, are bestowed as awards for bravery by some clan leaders.

But however central armour is to the Mandalorians’ culture and self-image, they never forget that it’s what lies beneath the armour that makes a soldier. “Verd ori’shya beskar’gam” (a warrior is more than his armour) is a popular Mando saying.

Mando’ade are a frugal people, and many amass sizable fortunes. Although modern banking practices mean most put their credits into shares and savings, they still invest much of their wealth in their armour and their weapons. Jewelry, when worn, is plain and functional. It’s often a heavy belt of precious metal – a very portable form of currency – or a collar.

Ear piercing is especially frowned upon because earrings can be torn off in a fight, causing injury. If you ever encounter a Mandalorian with pierced ears, and they remove their earrings, run for it. It’s a sign they plan to fight.

Mixing with the Mando’ade

Mandalorians are much more sociable than generally supposed. Most aruetiise encounter them at the point of a blaster, but if you meet them in a more peaceful setting they’re usually gracious hosts and honest business associates. As long as you observe the following rules, you need never discover their aggressive side:

• Say what you mean.

• Never refuse the offer of a drink or a meal – for nomadic people, who live hand to mouth, this is the greatest compliment they can pay a guest.

• Never make a pass at a Mando’ad unless you intend to offer marriage and become Mando.

• Look them in the eye, or, if they’re wearing helmets, look straight into the horizontal section of the visor.

• Take off your boots when entering their home.

• Pay your debts immediately.

• Make a fuss of their children.

• Treat elderly Mando’ade with reverence. Any Mando who survives to a venerable age must be an exceptional warrior, and will still be capable of making you regret your lack of respect.

Some aruetiise find the Mandalorian character and culture so appealing that they join them. This life is not for the faint-hearted, but those who value loyalty, commitment to family, and a passionate zest for life will find the Mandalorian way irresistible. After all, aliit ori’shya tal’din – family is more than bloodline.

Absolutely! Here’s the resources I have saved:

Mando’a Grammar Guide (from Karen Traviss, who wrote the Republic Commando novels) - great for sentence structure and verb conjugation.

Mando’a Dictionary - they also have a forum! There’s links to lessons within the postings if you’re really interested. 

I also have this translator saved, but just like any online translator, use with caution! It doesn’t quite get the usage/grammar correct, but if I’m looking to see how something would look, I toss what I’m trying to say in.

CARING FOR STUBBORN MUSES. - accepting

Jaina’s face was set in what could only be described as a pout. Of all the things to have happened… letting something big and heavy fall on top of her because she’d been too focused on their quarry was high on the list of embarrassing things she’d done in her life. What kind of Jedi just forgot to sense their surroundings? “They’re going to think I’m incapable. Might as well be an infant if I come back like this without even the bounty we went out to get.” She couldn’t afford for the clan to think poorly of her, particularly not Mirta’s grandfather. She needed the time to learn from them, from him, if she was going to survive. But limping along wasn’t helping either herself of Mirta, who was playing babysitter now rather than chasing down the credits fast escaping. “At least tell me I got the tracker on him. If not, I might just have to throw myself out of the airlock on the way back and save myself the mortification.”

“I will keep all of my everything away from Carid, no matter how drunk I am,” Jaina practically cackled she was laughing so hard. “He can cry about it if he wants, but I’m afraid that my standards are just too high for that.”

Mirta’s questions about her uncle made her laugh even more. “Levitating people onto rocks? I have to admit that I’ve never seen him do that but, then again, there could easily be stuff about Uncle Luke that no one knows.”

Even though Jaina knew that that probably seemed like a good idea to her uncle after one or two council meetings, Jaina knew that there was nothing willingly violent about him. Any damage that Luke Skywalker did, was only ever done out of necessity. And everyone should be good and grateful for that. 

“I feel like maybe Threepio is a… ‘you had to be there’ kind of droid,” Jaina said with a shrug. “But trust me when I say that my brothers and I would have been happy to have sold him and be done.” 

She shrugged. “Tell me what’s new with you! I haven’t seen you in ages and, when you finally turn up, we’re just talking about Threepio, my uncle’s hobbies, and how no one wants to get naked with Carid,” she giggled hard. “Tell me something about you right now!”

Mirta wordlessly toasted Jaina’s imminently sensible attitude in regards to Baltan Carid then added, “Maybe the urge to hide his tears will finally give that di’kutla chakaar some incentive to keep his damn bucket on.” There were plenty of Mandalorians who didn’t wear their helmets on anything approaching a regular basis just like there were plenty who wore said helmets as persistently as Mirta’s grandfather did his, but there were few indeed who were as lax about wearing their buc’ye as Carid. This being Mandalore, no one was going to force him to start acting sensibly -- but they would all rib him about it, constantly.

The Force baffled Mirta, especially the way the jettise used it. The rules about when and how it could be “appropriately” used were the most confusing part; sometimes it seemed like they couldn’t even wipe their own shebs without communing with the Force first, but other times you couldn’t get them to pull out the party tricks even with a blade to their throats. All that osik about the “Dark Side” and the “Light Side” of the Force just sounded like people spouting empty excuses to Mirta’s ears -- but she knew that Jaina would never agree, and there was no point wasting both their time on a debate, especially when the topic was one that Mirta couldn’t actually give two decacreds for.

So instead of starting such a debate, she simply said wryly, “I expect there’s loads of stuff about your Uncle Luke that nobody knows.” She took another sip and added grimly, “People like that, there always are.”

Jaina had only heard the tale of her mother’s adventures with the Mandalorian called Shysa once, and all she knew was that her mother had caused the Imperials quite a lot of trouble and earned the fascination of the man after she’d kissed him by force and then konked his head into a tree. Apparently, that was enough. That or she’d knocked a few bolts loose. Either way, it was amusing.

Mirta, of course, caught her staring simply out of curiosity but it seemed just like the young woman to turn that into an excuse to tease her. Thankfully, somehow, Jaina managed not to blush.

“I would dare to agree with you about his claim. Clearly you have him beat.” Actually, it wasn’t an entirely facetious statement. Mirta was pretty, in a rough and tumble sort of way. Jaina wondered if that was what people though about when they met her. She’d had a few flirtations, but really it was Jag who seemed to think she was more interesting than just a bit of fun for a night or two. She still didn’t entirely believe him when he called her beautiful.

Strangely, Mirta’s assessment of her sentiments put her somewhat at ease. What Jaina really knew about the Mandalorians was second hand at best and myth at worst, so she was still finding her feet among them. She had a goal and a purpose and in the end, that was what would drive her. Hopefully, they’d respect that enough to allow her to continue, regardless of any personal feelings. “I appreciate that information. As far as action is concerned, it’s all I’ve known since I was a child, fighting and war. I don’t think that will be a problem. People will see that before long.”

The reference to her “shiny sword” got another laugh out of her, simply for the use of the term. That was a new one, and a very casual dismissal of the most important object Jaina would probably ever own and somehow that amused her deeply. “I don’t think I’ve ever tried my lightsaber against beskar, but I wonder how much it would actually take. That stuff is pretty resilient. But I’ll be sure not to do it to anyone else. I don’t mind someone deciding they want to flirt but I’d rather not… that’s the word for knocking heads, right? I’d rather not come up with a concussion.”

Mirta guffawed -- less because she was amused at the jetii’s joking assessment of her “pretty face” and more at the thought of how Carid would pout if he heard. Baltan Carid was a funny man: on one hand, he was very much a stereotypical mando but on the other, he made quite a production out of at least pretending to care about very arutiise things...but then again, the definition of “stereotypical Mandalorian” was pretty broad. They weren’t a people who liked being boxed-in by anything but their own armor, and that tended to be mostly custom-fitted.

So rather than dig further at Carid, or switch to a serious discussion about mando beauty standards and how they compared -- or didn’t -- to various galactic norms, Mirta said simply, “You bet I do,” with a broad grin. Given the fact that Carid tended to leave his helmet behind when he jumped into battle, his features had taken quite a beating over the years; that made him decidedly less attractive than Mirta by the standards of most of the galaxy...and perhaps considerably pretty by baseline mando standards. Facts like that had no place in this conversation, however, so Mirta added with a wink, “And if he whines, I’ll challenge him to a wrestling match or a round of cu'bikad and really beat him, mando-style.”

Mirta wasn’t much of a body-language reader -- not by the standards of a people who had grown-up every day in company with those who wore visored helmets over their faces as casually and often as some sentients wore hats or eye-shades -- but she thought Jaina looked to be relaxing a bit, as they talked; not slouching comfortably the way Mirta herself was, but holding herself with less tension in her shoulders and spine. Or maybe she was just getting more used to the jetii’s presence in general. Either way, she shrugged in reply and said, “Well, you need any more information, you can come to me. I’m trying to teach ba’buir the basics about the folks who are supposed to be his people, which mainly seems to mean beating him over the bucket until something penetrates his stubborn skull, so explaining things to you will be helpful practice for battering him later.”

Mirta realized that most people would never dare talk about the “infamous Boba Fett” like that -- but most people weren’t Mandalorian. Their ideas of respectful behavior were a bit different around here, and bowing and scraping around their leaders had never been a habit of theirs, not even when they’d been under the heel of the Sith.

She didn’t say anything about Jaina’s comment of fighting and war since childhood; she still thought of the delicate-featured Jetii as somebody soft -- an aruetii. Maybe she was wrong, and Jaina was tougher than she looked; she’d better be, to weather mando training enough to get anything useful out of it. Mandalorians were not, for the most part, needlessly cruel...but they weren’t gentle either. Jaina looked like somebody who was used to gentle -- but then, her mother looked no better in her old holos, and she had captured the affections of one of Mandalore’s most popular Mandalores. Maybe Organas were tougher than they looked...even if they weren’t keen on experiencing a Keldabe Kiss.

/makes meme about EU character relationship no one cares about

no but seriously, in the legacy of the force novels, boba fett finally realizes what a flaming trash fire he is and tries to be less of a jackass with the help of his (sometimes literal) found family and his relationship with beviin (the blue guy) is so weirdly wholesome??? like this is literally their dynamic.