Chapter 2: Beskar'gam
"Armor," Vhetin said, gesturing to his own black-gray suit, "is one of the most recognizable attributes of our civilization. When an aruetii is asked to name something Mandalorian, they probably won't start listing our cultural achievements or greatest leaders. They'll say oh, those are the guys with the armor."
"Mandalorians are among the greatest armorsmiths in the galaxy," Janada said. She gestured to the yellow-armored teacher, who powered up a holoprojector. With a flash of light, the projector began displaying some of the most recognizable Mandalorians in history: Mandalore the Ultimate, Mandalore the Preserver, and Mandalore the Vindicated. Each wore significantly unique suits of armor, though the relationship between them was obvious.
Janada gestured for the teacher to pause the hologram on the most modern example of Mandalorian armorcraft. The children watched in fascination as a life-sized hologram of a green and red Mandalorian slowly rotated before their eyes.
"Who can tell me who this is?" Janada asked.
"Fett!"
"Boba Fett!"
"Shabuir!"
Janada threw her head back and laughed at the last answer, while the teacher sternly said, "Briika! Watch your language!"
"But that's what my daddy calls him!" the young girl protested.
"It's all right," Vhetin said with a slight smile of his own. "I'm sure we've all heard worse."
He stepped to the front of the class and said, "The point is that our armor defines who we are. It allows simultaneous individuality and unity with our brothers and sisters. It protects us on the battlefield, showing our enemies that we aren't afraid of combat. And most importantly, it proudly displays our place as warriors among the galaxy's inhabitants."
He knelt in front of a thin human boy and gestured to his own faceplate. "Look into this visor. Can you see my face?"
The kid shook his head.
"Does this faceplate display any emotion at all? Any signs of chaab, of fear?"
Another shake of the head.
"And that's exactly why it's so important," Vhetin said, standing to his full height again. "Our armor transforms us into faceless warriors. Even the most fearful Mandalorian looks powerful and invincible when wearing full battle armor."
"Our enemies think that displaying their faces makes them look less like machines," Janada added, "and more like living beings. But we pride ourselves in showing nothing of our true feelings to the enemy. It proves to them that we can't be intimidated, that we won't back down for any reason."
A tentative hand went up. Vhetin looked to the child, a Weequay boy, and nodded for him to speak. The kid hesitated before saying, "But doesn't the helmet just hide what we're scared of? Putting a bucket over your head doesn't make you any braver."
Janada glanced at Vhetin, who in turn looked at the child and nodded in approval. "That's a very good observation, youngling."
He turned his helmeted gaze to the class at large. "No, wearing Mandalorian armor doesn't instantly make you a war hero. It won't turn you into the greatest soldier who ever lived. Every Mandalorian feels fear like anyone else. And we're not too proud to admit it."
He turned to the Weequay child and said, "But can you honestly say that if you were facing me on the opposite side of a battle, you'd be able to look at my helmet and comfort yourself with the knowledge that I'm just as scared as you are? Or would you just see an armored warrior who shows no fear, no anger, no emotion besides a desire to succeed?"
The kid stared at him, then shook his head. Vhetin stared at him, then said, "Our armor doesn't make us impervious to fear. But it sure makes it look like that to our enemies."
"And there's more to our armor than just the way it looks to aruetiise," Janada pitched in. "It also protects us in battle. It shields us from harm, even against some of the most powerful of weapons."
Vhetin rapped his knuckles on his black-painted chest plate. "This armor is created from one of the most durable metals in the galaxy. It's saved my life more times than I can even begin to count."
"It looks like any other metal," one child said.
"Doesn't it?" Vhetin said with a chuckle. He stepped up to the youngling and pointed to a round chip in the paint on his stomach plate. "See this scar here? That was from a sniper rifle laser round. The particular rifle is used to hunt Rancor, but it barely slowed me down."
He pointed to a collection of scars on the right side of his helmet. "The paint was melted off my buy'ce here when a gangster threw a beaker of highly-concentrated acid at my face. It would have melted my skull away in seconds, but it did little more than warp the paint."
Finally he pointed to a long, thin scar across his chest plates. "And do you see this? This was caused by a lightsaber."
Hushed gasps ran through the room. One kid stared at the paint scar, then said, "But... but kad'au'e can cut through anything!"
"Not beskar," Vhetin said. "So I ask you: can you see the benefit of having a suit of armor that can protect you from every weapon known in the universe?"
Every child present nodded emphatically. One kid raised a hand and said, "So when do we get our armor?"
Janada smiled. "You'll get it soon enough. Ad'ike usually get their first sets of training armor around age five. Most of you are that age or older."
"You'll keep your lower-grade armor until age thirteen," Vhetin added, "when you finish your training. Then you'll be able to decide on a color sceme for your standard armor and even add your own custom additions."
"Custom additions?" someone echoed.
Janada nodded. "I'm not wearing my beskar'gam today, but I created my suit from scratch. I took designs from traditional Mando armor, but the majority of my armor is unique."
"You're allowed to do that?"
She nodded. "If you're either talented or wealthy enough, sure."
"Kandosii," the child murmured.
"Your armor is important," Vhetin said. "It's more than just a shiny suit that'll make you look cool to your friends. Your armor will define who you are."
"Like you?"
Vhetin turned sharply to the speaker and said, "What?"
The boy nodded nervously. "I... I've heard rumors about you. Is it true you never take your helmet off?"
He stared at the boy, wondering whether to reprimand him for asking questions that were none of his business or applaud him for being so well informed. He finally bowed his head slightly and murmured, "Not in public, no."
"Why not?"
He stared at the child and was about to reply when Janada stepped in front of him. "He's shy," she said. "Another bonus of wearing a full-face helmet."
Scattered laughter rippled through the room. Vhetin glanced at Janada, grateful that she had pulled him out of that uncomfortable position, then said, "Well... all that aside, who knows the next tenet of the Resol'nare?"
There was silence throughout the room for a few moments. Then a girl said, "Is it... fighting?"
"Close," Janada said. "The next part of the Resol'nare is aranov. Self-defense."
