The Measure of A Mand'alor [Bane]

[Rabbit]

Sheresh was preoccupied. She knew she shouldn't be - it was her turn to stand duty at the base clinic and things were moderately busy for an otherwise quiet afternoon. She had work to do, but it was all work she'd done a thousand times before, so her thoughts wandered as she folded bandages and catalogued medicine.

Her experiences out in town the other day, while trying to hunt down Sazen, had been bothering her. She couldn't blame her fellow Mandalorians for possessing a healthy amount of skepticism. She couldn't fault them for wanting to go take the galaxy by storm to take back what was rightfully theirs.

Her buir and aliit were Togorian, after all. True, most of them had managed to settle on Concord Dawn, but the alitt was split - half on Concord Dawn, half on Togoria, with a few scattered here and there across the Outer Rim. And it was the long-held hope of those in Concord Dawn to go back home to Togoria one day - back to a home that was Mandalorian, not Republic.

But, beyond that, Sheresh didn't know much about the politics of her chosen people. She'd never met the Mand'alor - she hadn't even ever spotted him about on base. Sure, he was Mand'alor and the Resol'nare required loyalty. But at what cost? Was he even worthy of loyalty? So far, what she'd managed to hear out in town, wasn't flattering. Was she foolish for having "blind faith", as it had been called?

She'd done some reading up on the previous Mand'alor - talked to a few people, mostly her former squadmates. It had only been fifty years since "Mand'alor the Betrayer" had wounded the collective pride and honor of his people, by signing the Treaty of Mando'a. Bane Haseful had stepped into the shadow of that legacy and Sheresh had heard talk about a non-aggression pact with the Sith, which had put some on edge. Others were skeptical because Bane was taking his time with an assault on the Republic - though, beyond that vague description, she didn't know much else.

She knew that they were fighting to reclaim previous Mandalorian worlds and that by doing so, they were flying in direct violation of the Treaty of Mando'a. That alone put him head-and-shoulders above Mand'alor the Betrayer...didn't it?

She sighed under her breath. Just six years earlier, she'd been an Alderaanian - in fact, when she spoke Basic, one could still hear her father's accent in her voice. Because of what Hel'buir had done for her - rescuing her from a life of miserable slavery as a cantina girl on Ord Mantell - Sheresh had chosen to claim her cin vhetin and take up her armor, to honor the Resol'nare.

She was still very new to the Mandalorian way of life. If anything, her experiences from the other day had shown her that. Since then, she'd been quiet, earning a few concerned looks from Cros'ra, a few attempts by Ruusan to get her to say what was on her mind. Even Sazen had dropped by the infirmary, to "check up on her." It wasn't normal for Sheresh to be so withdrawn, but she'd been starting to doubt her place among the Mando'ad. A part of her felt she shouldn't have questioned so much.

I should have just walked away, she thought to herself, for the thousandth time that day, alone.

And then, to top it all off, there was the matter of the Jedi, Tali. Sheresh had stayed true to what she felt was her own personal morals, but at the same time, she knew she'd flown in direct opposition to what any of her fellow Mando'ad would have done. She'd healed Tali and sent the Jetii on her way. She'd hidden her, helped her steal a new ship, helped her escape, when others would have shot her on sight for being a spy.

Sheresh had forged an unlikely alliance with a single Jetii, but there was a part of her felt like the worst sort of traitor. Perhaps her father's Alderaanian ethics of peace and diplomacy ran deeper than she'd thought.

Deeper than her armor.

Sheresh glanced up, briefly, as a figure stepped through the clinic's open door. The infirmary was really nothing more than a long, narrow, one-floor building with cots all along one side and a medic's station at the very front. Some of the cots were sectioned off with curtained frames, to give patients a sense of privacy while they were tended to, or while they slept. Their lone medical droid clanked along the way between the ends of a row of beds and Sheresh was just finishing up her notations in the station log.

She scratched behind her ear and tapped the side of her cheek with her datapad stylus for a moment, as she briefly considered the form that was blocking the afternoon sun. He was tall, big - not much different that any other male that walked through. He wasn't bleeding though, so she looked back down at her notations, too distracted by her own thoughts to really mind a random visitor.

Probably just come by to see a friend...

She frowned slightly and marked something on her 'pad, before pausing to chew on the end of her stylus.

What do you want, Sheresh? she wondered - this penseive mood wasn't her style and it was bothering her endlessly, distracting her from her work, from her duties.

The man's footsteps echoed against the bare walls as he approached the station, but Sheresh was absorbed in her thoughts and her work and didn't think anything of it. She realized, as she stared blankly at her datapad, stylus worried between her teeth, that she would give anything to actually meet Bane Haseful, Mand'alor.

Perhaps, if she met him, some of her worries would be put to rest. Maybe, then, she could understand the undercurrents of what was going on. Maybe, if she got the measure of the man - of their leader - she'd understand her loyalty a little better and it wouldn't be quite so...blind.

Perhaps, then, she could decide where she stood and proceed with confidence and honor, in place of her confusion and uncertainty.

[Jace]

Bane wasn't exactly a man who had a great deal of free time. He couldn't even remember the last time he had truly been able to say there wasn't something on his plate still left to do. Luckily for his subordinates, he didn't much care for free time anyways. Bane was a man who dedicated himself wholly to his work and nothing else, his job just happened to be waging war. Well that wasn't exactly accurate but its what he had done for the better part of his life.

Thus as he strode through the halls of the base, he did so with a purpose. He had just finished handing out the Gargon mission to Ambria and Zordon and was now headed to the Medical bay. Bane occasionally ventured down there to check up on wounded soldiers but otherwise visited it rarely. They were in charge of gathering casualty reports and things of that nature but those were just transferred directly to his office.

He had become Mand'alor, but in truth little changed in terms of how he operated. Bane still conducted all his business out of the Special Operations headquarters. He had trained with the men and women of SpecOps for quite some time, and they were the best the Mandalorians had to offer. Bane had heard rumors going around that he was using them for his own personal guard. Such an implication was so absurd that he could barely believe people were taking it seriously. Then again not everyone supported him as Mand'alor, neither did they totally support Solus'ad. It was an occupational hazard as far as Bane was concerned, and his occupation had many hazards which usually resulted in death.

Bane finally arrived at the clinic and surveyed the area as he stepped in. There wasn't really much to look at, not much had been invested in the clinic. He understood the importance of what they did, indeed that was why he was here, but even a man like himself was restricted by resources. Plus with Concord Dawn becoming the main hub of Mandalorian activity, there were multiple alternatives nearby. He scanned the room until he found who he was looking for, and walked towards her direction.

The other Mandalorian had barely spared him a glance, apparently distracted by something else. Some commanders would be irked by her lack of recognition but it had become somewhat of a novelty to Bane. He finally came to a halt at the desk in front of the woman who seemed to be focusing intently on her datapad.

"Sergeant Par'jain?" inquired Bane in his usual gruff voice.

It was then Bane realized that she wouldn't have necessarily noticed who he was. Back when he was a colonel or even a brigadier he had his rank marked on his armor. Now that he been 'elevated', he no longer held a specific military rank, or at least he held one without a specific insignia. Bane hadn't exacted been broadcast on the Holonet like those Republic fools liked to do so much. His armor was the only real way to indentify him, or possibly the two blades strapped to his back, but even then it wasn't necessarily a given. He wondered how long it would take her to realize who he was, the thought would've brought a smile a normal person but such an action was quite alien to him.

[Rabbit]

"Sergeant Par'jain?"

A deep, gruff voice snapped her out of her reverie. The medic looked up from her 'pad and stared up into a weathered, rugged face. She thought absently that it seemed all Mandalorian men looked ten years older than they should.

Bad diet, over-exposure, stress... she listed the reasons for premature aging in her head, before realizing that she was staring vaguely.

She cleared her throat and pulled her shoulders back crisply.

"Yes..." she glanced briefly at the red-and-black armor, but didn't see any insignia.

She paused for a moment, but then shrugged mentally.

When in doubt...

"...Sir?"

It was always safer to promote, rather than demote. She frowned slightly, her gloomy thoughts banished to the back of her mind. The approach of a visitor had pulled her out of her reverie. The medic was more than willing to let her mind wander, when she knew she could afford to let it do so. But the second that duty beckoned, she was on her feet and moving - even if it was just metaphorically.

She looked him over again and tried to place his face - or, the armor. Unfortunately, red-and-black were common colors among the Mandalorians, so that wasn't much help. She hadn't seen his face before, though...his voice sounded vaguely familiar.

An officer of some sort, perhaps?

She gave up and just decided to go with things. The medic set the datapad down on the desk in front of her and clasped her hands behind her in a modified position of at-ease.

"Is there something I can help you with?"


[OOC: I thought I'd go with Sheresh not knowing who Bane is. She's "new" enough to the Mandalorian culture to not really know him and while she's not new to the Army, she's fairly new to Spec Ops and used to being out on missions. So...*shrugs* I figure it'd be reasonable for her not to know him. I thought that might also make their interactions more interesting, initially. ^_^]

[Jace]

Even though she did render the honorific 'sir', Bane could tell she still had no idea who he actually was. His position wasn't really necessary for his purpose here anyways. Bane scanned the clinic finding it mostly empty. Most of the serious injuries from Shogun were treated at the bigger facilities or on the planet itself. Half of his SpecOps division was still on the newly reclaimed planet dealing with a variety of issues. Another quarter of them were off on missions all over the galaxy. This was a critical time for the Mandalorian movement.

"Indeed there is" replied Bane to the woman's question

He paused for a moment, considering how to proceed with his inquiry.

"As you probably already know, medics play an important role in the theater of war. Sadly this sentiment is not shared by many of our vode. I have seen enough combat to know how vital they can be on critical missions."

Now Bane took a step back, walking around the room slowly as he spoke.

"The simple fact is that our military sorely lacks in combat medicine compared to both the Republic and Sith Empire. If we are to successfully continue this crusade, this must change. A Mandalorian soldier is worth at least twenty Republic soldiers, but a dead one is worth nothing. Death is a glorious pursuit, but there is much to be found in life also. Every brother and sister we keep alive gives rise to a stronger soldier."

The Mandalorian leader paused, he truly was becoming long winded in his increasing age.

"Special Operations is the pride of the Mandalorian military yet we have the least medics. I need soldiers like you who chose to heal rather than focus on demolition or communications like our other vode. Before I do though, I must ask you one thing.

Why did you chose to be a medic?"

Reasons for fighting were just as important as the ability to fight. Motivated and driven soldiers were much more effective. Bane knew why he had chosen his path, and what he was fighting for, but did she?

[Rabbit]

As the man talked, Sheresh did her best to try and place him. She wracked her brain, but drew a complete blank. One thing she was certain of, though, as it took a few minutes longer than necessary for him to get to his point -

Long-winded! Gotta' be an officer, definitely.

It was the way he talked, too, and the way he prowled around the room while he spoke. His keen eyes roved over everything and Sheresh knew that this was a man who didn't miss much. When he looked at her, she even felt a touch of cautious respect - he could read people, probably as well as she could.

"Special Operations is the pride of the Mandalorian military yet we have the least medics. I need soldiers like you who chose to heal rather than focus on demolition or communications like our other vode. Before I do though, I must ask you one thing."

A recruitment officer? she wondered, as she noted the constant and authoritative use of "I".

That didn't seem to pan out, though... Most recruiters she had found, were persuasive and not so direct in their approach. He carried himself as if he were in charge, too - as if his authority was common fact and not questioned often. She tried not to frown and break her passive military bearing, as she watched him pace and tried to riddle him out in her mind.

And what kind of officer would come to the clinic, talking about "needing soldiers?" Something of a suspicion began to form in the back of Sheresh's mind, but then he derailed her train of thought by a simple question.

Why did you chose to be a medic?"

For a moment, her eyes grew big and she blinked, surprised by the blunt delivery. Immediately, though, her mind started to churn and she unconsciously pursed her lips as she thought. For a moment, she looked past the officer and considered the wall beyond him.

"I wasn't born to the clans, sir," Sheresh finally focused back on her unexpected interrogator and her voice was unusually soft. "I was born an aruetii, to an Alderaanian doctor and a Zeltron. When I was discovered by my Hel'buir, I picked up my medical studies again - it came naturally to me, really."

Sheresh paused and played with her fingers behind her back. It was a little painful, having to talk about the very things she'd been wondering about just moments before, but she could sense that this wasn't a man to blow off or lie to. So, she spoke truthfully and bluntly, as best as she knew how.

"I don't know many vode who weren't born into the clans, but as a former aruetti, I suppose we can't help but bring our pasts with us, regardless of our cin vhetin," she resisted the urge to shrug and struggled to maintain her military composure. "I chose to be a medic, because it's simply who I am. 'A warrior is more than her armor'. And as you've pointed out, sir, you can't wage war without someone to pick up the pieces when the battle's over."

She paused one last time, considering her words, and then added, her voice a little stronger -

"I can fight, sir. But, there are vode who are much better at it, than I. And I get battle thrill just as much as the next Mando'ad. But, when I see bodies go down, I can't help but go to them. I'm more interested in protecting the wounded and saving what lives I can; I'm afraid that I find very little thrill in taking lives," Sheresh took a deep breath. "I suppose that puts me at odds, with most. But...it's who and what I am."

[Jace]

Bane listened patiently as the sergeant began to recount her story. He wasn't surprised to find that she hadn't grown up in the clans. In fact, there were a great many who hadn't. Mandalorian culture was one of respect, not of birth. It made them strong in the same way it made the Sith Empire and Republic weak. Bane had first been put off when he had learned that people had been 'adopted' into his clan, but soon learned how ridiculous his notion had been. They were people who lived with him everyday, fought with him, and died alongside his kin.

It made sense that she had brought the art of healing with her from her old life. Those who had been adopted into clans were encouraged to embrace Mandalorian culture, but not forget their past. As a seasoned soldier, Bane understood the value of experience just about as good as anyone else. It was the woman's final words that truly impressed Bane. There weren't many Mandalorians that would admit freely what she just had. Bane had nothing against the over zealous soldiers who craved battle, hell, he was practically one of them. Yet there were so many aspects to war and battle than just killing.

"Good" stated Bane after a few moments

She had answered well and now Bane was confident he had made the right choice

"Walk with me, sergeant"

Without waiting for a response, he turned where he stood and began to head out of the clinic. He assumed she would follow, even if she did not yet know who he was. When she caught up, Bane still remained silent as they walked through the hallways. As they did various soldiers would stop, and salute Bane. Some of them muttered a hasty 'sir' and others preferred the term 'Mand'alor'. Either way, he was pretty sure that the sergeant had a good idea of who he was now.

"I have a handpicked team of SpecOps soldiers who I choose to go out with me on missions. When I do not go out in the field personally, they are assigned some of the most critical missions. What I don't have on my squad is a medic, and if you haven't figured out by now, that's where you come in"

The pair finally stopped in front of a door, a door which happened to lead to Bane's office. He turned back to Sheresh and regarded her once again. She would make the final addition to a group of already elite soldiers. Though she was still relatively new to Special Operations, Bane was confident she could handle the responsibility.

"This assignment is completely voluntary so I leave the choice up to you. If you need time to make your decision then do so, however if you have any questions then you may ask them now"

[Rabbit]

The unidentified officer seemed to be thinking something over, so Sheresh continued to stand at a modified parade rest and waited patiently for him to finally break the silence. She had spoken her peace and couldn't think of anything else to add - all she could do, was wonder what the blazes he was getting at, by marching into her work space and asking unsolicited questions.

When the silence finally ended, Sheresh fought the urge to ask a few unsolicited questions herself.

"Good. Walk with me, sergeant."

He really didn't give her a lot of time to respond - mentally, verbally, or physically. Without another word, he had turned on his heel and stalked toward the med bay doors. Sheresh stood still in mute surprise for several seconds and then scrambled to follow after him.

All the while, she could only wonder one thing -

What in Manda is this all about?

For half a second, she thought about demanding to know why he had stormed into the med bay and why he thought he was so entitled to imperiously demand that she follow him. However, Sheresh had been trained better - by both Ru'buir and the Army - so she bit her tongue and scampered after him.

As she trotted down the hall - struggling to keep pace with his much longer stride - the truth of his identity began to dawn on her. More than one Mandalorian soldier snapped to attention and saluted as he passed by, confirming her suspicion that he was an officer. Some referred to him quietly as "sir"...but then they passed one soldier, an officer herself, who acknowledged his presence with a crisp, "Mand'alor."

Sheresh struggled to keep her jaw from dropping in sheer shock. Then, she struggled to keep a sudden sense of primal panic at bay.

Osik! she practically shouted to herself, in the private confines of her mind. Osik, osik, osik!

Bane Haseful, Mand'alor himself, had walked into her med bay and listened to her prattle. Sheresh's mind immediately kicked into overdrive and she began playing and replaying their brief - and abrupt - interaction. He hadn't really given any physical indication that he had approved or disapproved of her words. The only thing she had to go on, really, was a terse pronouncement of "good." Which, as Sheresh knew only too well by now, could quite possibly mean the exact opposite.

Her thoughts ran around after each other like frantic Tartarian mice; thankfully, she had enough professionalism to keep her thoughts and emotions firmly locked behind a mask of impassivity. Inwardly, however, she was caught between panic and curiosity.

Some of her panic and dismay was put on hold, when Bane's deep voice broke the silence between them. Sheresh shoved her thoughts aside and focused intently on what he was saying, thankful to have at least some of her curiosity sated.

"I have a handpicked team of SpecOps soldiers who I choose to go out with me on missions. When I do not go out in the field personally, they are assigned some of the most critical missions. What I don't have on my squad is a medic, and if you haven't figured out by now, that's where you come in."

This time, Sheresh couldn't help gaping. Her eyes widened in surprise and for a step or two, her feet faltered. After an unguarded moment, she collected her professional decorum again, but now her mind careened in a completely different direction.

Mand'alor is asking me to be on his own personal team?

She couldn't believe it. She really, truly, couldn't believe it. She had admitted to living most of her life as an aruetti - as an outsider. She had admitted to a more passive calling in life - one as a healer and not necessarily as a front-line warrior. She had admitted to being at odds with many of the other Mando'ad...

And he wanted her as his medic?

Sheresh was, quite frankly, floored. And she was secretly glad that Bane didn't ask her any further questions, because she wasn't entirely sure that she could talk at that moment.

Their journey stopped in front of a door - Sheresh eyed it apprehensively and wondered what was beyond it.

Probably his office... she then eyed him. Would the Mand'alor even need an office?

It was a silly thing to ponder, but it kept her from hyperventalating mentally under the enormity of what he was asking.

"This assignment is completely voluntary so I leave the choice up to you. If you need time to make your decision then do so, however if you have any questions then you may ask them now."

Sheresh fought the urge to bite her lip and instead looked up at him, her eyes narrowed slightly in thoughtful contemplation. He was asking for a lot.

She didn't really want to take time to "think things over"; if she did, her over-analytical mind would turn itself inside out and she'd never get back to him with an answer. Some decisions in life - no matter how big - had to be made with some amount of impulsiveness. She felt that this was one of them, but at the same time, she did have a question.

After all, she had been wondering about the measure of the Mand'alor just minutes before. The young medic tilted her head to the side and softly asked the one question that mattered most to her -

"Why did you choose to be Mand'alor, sir?"

[Jace]

When Bane had asked if Sheresh had any questions, he certainly wasn't expecting the one she asked. He raised an eyebrow at the woman, wondering if it was because she was new to SpecOps or just had a serious pair. Any SpecOps soldier that had served under Bane long enough knew that he didn't talk about his personal life, or his feelings. He left that stuff to his subordinates, he didn't have time for it. Mandalore needed loyal soldiers to follow him into battle, not friends.

What the hell

He might as well indulge her, apparently today was the one day of the year he was verbose. Though he wasn't really sure she was going to like the answer.

"I didn't chose to be Mand'alor, I was chosen."

Bane paused for a moment, considering how to proceed.

"The previous Mand'alor, Solus'ad, was a great man who died a glorious death. It was his wish that I take the position of Mand'alor. He was a liberator of our people, and it is for me to continue his path."

He felt a rare pang of nostalgia at the thought of his dead mentor.

"I am a soldier, I have no taste for politics and bureaucracy. I would rather be in the field than behind a desk yet Solus'ad convinced me that I can best help our people by serving as Mand'alor. Many of our brethren are still oppressed by the Republic, I will see them free, and see our people prosper. If being Mand'alor will help me complete my objective, then I shall be Mand'alor.

It is that simple, sergeant."

He had spoken the truth, Bane still wasn't convinced he was the best person for the position. The Mandalorian belonged back in Special Operations. Though he had to admit that he wasn't entirely restricted, he still went out into the field. He had told Sheresh the truth, to him the position of Mand'alor was a weapon. A weapon he would use to bring justice and glory to his people. He would either die with it in his hand, or toss it aside and pick up a new one once it had worn out.

[Rabbit]

Sheresh was well aware that her bluntly stated question would probably take Bane by surprise - or, even, have the potentiality of being misconstrued by him. But, she had known no other way of asking about him. She was blunt by nature - sometimes, painfully so - and she had no time to dance around the issue. Neither did he.

She wanted to know who he was. She wanted to know why he had decided to lead the clans - their vod, their people. And if he thought her question impertinent, then so be it. She just wanted an honest answer and the best way, she had found, to get honest answers, was to ask an honest question.

"The previous Mand'alor, Solus'ad, was a great man who died a glorious death. It was his wish that I take the position of Mand'alor. He was a liberator of our people, and it is for me to continue his path." I am a soldier, I have no taste for politics and bureaucracy. I would rather be in the field than behind a desk yet Solus'ad convinced me that I can best help our people by serving as Mand'alor. Many of our brethren are still oppressed by the Republic, I will see them free, and see our people prosper. If being Mand'alor will help me complete my objective, then I shall be Mand'alor. It is that simple, sergeant."

Sheresh listened to Bane speak, her attention undivided. She watched him closely, too, taking in everything he wasn't saying, as well. Usually, she was reluctant to "feel" another person out through the use of her empathy, but this time, she let go of her control without any qualm. She sifted through his words, through his facial expression, through his pauses, through the sense of self that he projected. She considered him for anything that may ring false, for anything that might ring of selfishness or glory-hounding.

The young medic was pleased, when she found nothing of the sort.

She nodded a bit to herself, when Bane finished. She looked up at him and stood her own ground, as she replied.

"I'm sorry, sir, if I crossed any boundary by asking such a blunt question," she clasped her hands firmly behind her back and rocked back slightly on her heels. "But, I don't apologize for having asked you such a question."

She paused and pursed her lips, as she thought a moment. After a few seconds, she started slowly, choosing her words with care.

"I've seen a lot of evil in my short life and I've seen what comes of selfish men. I've seen what they've become; I see what they do to others," her face twisted a bit, as she remembered her life in the cantina, as she remembered Ruutan. "I have no interest in laying down my life, or watching others lay down their lives, for a man who hasn't thought about why he does what he does."

She lifted her chin stubbornly, as she continued.

"I've heard rumors about you - whisperings of discontent and perhaps, even, treason. I haven't known what to believe. After all, I've never even seen you, before today. I pride myself on my loyalty - after all, that's one of the things that drew me toward the Mandalorian way of life. But, I wanted to know more of you. I hope that was insubordinate of me, sir, but I wanted to know I wasn't following a fool."

Sheresh paused and her eyes never wavered from Bane's face. She stood a little taller and faced him bravely.

"Thank you for your honesty. I'll be honored to serve with you, sir," she straightened her shoulders and stood proudly. "Now, what's this you need me for? Besides being a medic, that is, sir."