Sirka stood with her arms crossed, though in more of a curious stance than an aggressive one. She found it odd  how his entire demeanor seemed to shift in a second, but then again, if there was one topic that mandalorians just loved to discuss, it was mandalorians. Despite the pretenders on Nar Shaddaa, she had met her share of genuine mandalorians. It was easy to tell by their asking price which ones were real; no mandalorian would be working at a discount. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Follow the guidelines of the Supercommando Codex, abide by the Resol'nare, I know what it takes. Wear the armor, speak the language, defend yourself and family, contribute to the clan, heed Mand'alor's summons, and raise your children the same way. I know all that, but a mandalorian who can't fight isn't a mandalorian. Literally." 

With her response, Sirka mostly wanted to show that she had been more interested in the mandalorians than just a passing thought, as she had done actual research into the idea. Of course, she had little knowledge of the specifics of mandalorian society beyond what she had already said, and she certainly didn't speak the language, apart from a few words she could recognize from her research. There had been a phase of her life where she was almost certain she wanted to join them. After living in a society that treated her worse than an animal simply for the caste she was hatched into, joining a group of warriors that cared not about birth or origin, but only merit was an enticing concept. She had pursued that research for a while, but ultimately abandoned the idea. She herself did not even like her own reasons for stopping her pursuit, and she would not admit them to anyone else. More likely, she would just use a more pragmatic excuse if asked, and if she had judged this mandalorian properly, he was definitely going to ask.