Bes'bev, a traditional Mandalorian flute, was a weapon of elegance and beauty, though formidable in battle. At one end, it is cut to a sharp tip, similar to a quill stylus, and this bladed point made the instrument ideal for deep puncture wounds. Forged from beskar, it can also be hefted as a club should the need arise.

Summary: There are times when the bonds of family are stretched to breaking. These moments either make a Mandalorian aliit stronger, or destroy it completely.

Rating: M

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence, mention of torture, and descriptions of torture.

Author's Note: This story is loosely tied to Family Is More Than Blood. I wrote it nearly two years ago, and finally decided to edit it. The timeline is set somewhere between Tython and Rishi, and there might be a few minor discrepancies that I've chosen to overlook because I didn't want to lose them. Otherwise, I tried to make it fit in with the ongoing story as best as possible.

Duty Calls

Ithor
Honeymoon Suite
09:00

Fynta rolled over with the satisfied sigh. Maybe it was a little late for a honeymoon, but Aric had finally gotten his dream vacation on Ithor. They were on day three of a well-earned, two week vacation. Whereas the concept of a honeymoon might not be a part of Fynta's culture, she certainly didn't mind humoring her husband. Especially after he'd waited nearly a year for it.

Jorgan propped himself on an elbow and smiled down at Fynta. She couldn't help but laugh at the absolute cheesiness in it, such a rare state for the Cathar. Aric only wore that expression after one of his new tricks worked out better than he anticipated, and Fynta had never minded being his muse for new and exciting experiments in bed.

Fynta pulled the blankets to her shoulders and looked out the window behind Jorgan. He rolled onto his back to see what had grabbed her attention and sighed contentedly as his arm folded on the pillow behind his head. "Nice view, isn't it?"

Jorgan had called in a few old favors with some buddies from his time as ops commander to get them a room close to the ground. It even had a waterfall outside the window. No one was allowed on the surface of Ithor, of course, but a few of the pricier resorts offered rooms nestled just above the trees. What's more, Jorgan had managed to keep Fynta in the dark about their destination right up until they dropped out of hyperspace. The creative ways that he kept her from sneaking onto the bridge to snoop through the navisystem still made her smile.

"MmHm," Fynta muttered as she stretched, then folded her arms over his chest and propped her chin on her hands. "Outside's not bad either." She felt Aric's laugh rumble through his chest before she heard it. He'd been a different man here; relaxed and playful. Not at all the strict lieutenant she'd met on Ord Mantell. Once they were back on duty though, Fynta knew he would revert. Which was fine, she'd fallen for that Aric Jorgan, the playfulness was a bonus.

"It's nice to get away," Fynta continued as his arm slid around her back. "And, I can't think of a more relaxing venue. You did good, riduur."

Aric's eye drifted shut, and a light smile touched his lips. He'd wanted this vacation for a while, and Fynta got the impression that this desire went further back than their discussion before Corellia. That this had always been the place he envisioned bringing his lifemate. As she studied her husband in this rare state of peace, Fynta realized that he looked younger. The patterns around his eyes and mouth smoothed into gentle curves instead of harsh lines of black against his golden fur. Maybe that's all he needed, a good shag and a vacation. The idea made her snicker, and he slid one gorgeous blue eye open. "What?"

"Just thinking." That Vik might have been right all those years ago. She wisely kept those words to herself, of course. The Weequay had never missed an opportunity to blame Jorgan's strict attitude on his lack of a sex life.

Both eyes opened, and Aric searched Fynta's face lazily before shutting them again. "You miss them yet?"

Fynta ran her fingers over Jorgan's chest, delighting in the contrast between soft and hard. They'd left the rest of the squad behind for the first time in nearly a year. Everyone had been so busy after the attacks on Korriban and Tython. Since they were just sitting on their hands waiting for Theron's call anyway, might as well take some time off.

"I'm sure their fine," Fynta answered, forcing her thoughts back to her squad mates. Vik had decided to stay on Nar Shaddaa while Yuun went home to visit. Dorne and Cormac were enjoying their time somewhere off the map too. "A little," Fynta finally admitted with a half-smile. She'd started drawing patterns in Aric's fur, and he huffed in annoyance when she snickered. "But, I'm in no hurry to get back. The war will still be there when we return."

Normally, that would be a depressing thought, but they were soldiers by nature. Without war, they were out of a job, and Fynta had no purpose. Being Mandalorian meant everything to her, but she doubted her brothers and sisters would welcome her back into the fold after more than a decade as a Republic soldier.

"I vote for ordering room service and skipping the play in favor of staying in bed," Aric stated as he stretched. Fynta had always found it to be an impressive sight, the way his muscles moved under the thin layer of fur that accentuated ridges usually hidden. "There's an encore tomorrow," he continued as he settled into the mattress again. "Besides, I've got plans for y—"

Jorgan's ears perked to a sound Fynta hadn't heard. Head tilted to the side, the Cathar cut his eyes at her while listening. She strained to catch the faint chirping of a device that shouldn't be on. With an annoyed grunt, Aric leaned over the side of the bed. He dug through the ramshackled sheets and came up with her personal comm. The one she'd left on in case of emergencies, and had completely forgotten about.

The device chirped again. They both stared at it. "I don't think they are going away," Aric groused, casting Fynta an accusatory glance.

Fynta swore and pulled on the first shirt she grabbed, which turned out to be Jorgan's, snatched the comm, and crossed the room to keep him out of the line of sight. "Wolfe," she answered in her most annoyed tone.

"Hey, doll," Balkar replied with a lopsided grin.

Fynta didn't even bother hiding her surprise. "Jonas? How did you get this frequency?" No one in her squad was foolish enough to give up her personal holo, not even Vik.

"SIS, remember?" Balkar answered. Jorgan raised a brow at Fynta from where he laid on the bed. "I've been trying to reach you for two days. Garza's not happy, by the way," Balkar continued. "I'm calling in that favor you owe me."

"Can it wait? We've only been on leave for three days." Fynta knew she sounded petulant, but damn it, Aric had worked hard to get them this suite. Not to mention, she was more than a little curious about what his plans had been. He'd wanted to see that play since it had been announced.

Jonas narrowed his eyes, his flirtatious demeanor slipping for a moment. "Yeah, sorry to interrupt—whatever you were doing." Fynta leveled him with a glare. Her hair was no doubt in shambles, and she clearly wore a man's shirt. It didn't take a genius to figure out what she'd been doing. "I've got ten dead SIS agents, and a rogue Mandalorian." He relaxed a little, smile slipping back into place. "I know who to call when Mandalorians are involved, I've got unrestricted access to your file now, remember?"

Fynta winced. It was her own fault, she'd requested a copy to give to Jorgan, and Balkar had been the only person she trusted to transmit the file. Besides, he'd been actively decrypting it for more than two years. He'd have unlocked it eventually. "Anyway, Garza loaned you out to me. So, if you could throw on that sexy armor and get your ass down here to Nar Shaddaa, I'd be much obliged."

Fynta made eye contact with Jorgan, cringing inwardly as that peace washed away before her eyes. "Do you need the entire squad?" She asked with a sigh. There really wasn't another option, Balkar had orders from General Garza.

"These people are your specialty, whatever you think you need." Balkar's tone took on a more serious note. "I really appreciate this, Fynta. Oh, and congratulations." Then, the call ended, leaving Fynta momentarily dumbstruck.

"You think he knows?" Aric asked, echoing her own thoughts.

Jonas was an exceptional SIS agent, and he'd accused Aric of having a thing for her once, but that still seemed like quite a leap. They'd been careful, no outward signs of affection in public. "Let's not assume, at the moment," she finally decided. "He could mean any number of things, the promotion, our success on Tython, even taking out Rakton. The SIS are like fortune tellers, they throw out little bits of information and wait for their victim to fill in the blanks." Fynta nodded sternly. "No, we'll act the same as always."

Aric climbed from the bed and crossed the room to kiss Fynta's forehead. He inhaled deeply, and she intentionally dropped her voice an octive. "So, what were those plans you had?"

The Cathar's eyes darkened. "I think we've got time for one of them."

Nar Shaddaa
20:00

Balic sat in a little dinner in the spaceport with Elara. At first, he had been annoyed by Fynta's call. Then again when he found out that she planned to leave Vik and Yuun out of it, effectively understaffing them. But, when she mentioned they'd be chasing down a Mandalorian who'd killed ten SIS agents, well, Cormac thought that sounded like fun. If they wrapped it up quickly, he and Elara could get back to their vacation, and he'd have some interesting new experiences.

To pass the time, Cormac watched the passersby while Elara researched varying ways of tracking down elusive Mandalorians. One Twi'lek in a business suit bumped a human who had been more interested in his conversation with the female Nautolan on his arm than his surroundings. The two men started yelling at one another until the female dumped her caf over the Twi'lek's expensive duds. It took three spaceport security guards to haul the two men apart, and the woman was arrested as an accomplice. Cormac chuckled as he thought back to the major's promise years ago that Nar Shaddaa would never be dull.

The bustling crowd parted further down the passage, and two figures in beskar'gam appeared in the gap. It didn't matter if their Havoc badges were showing or not, people here got out of the way. Cormac knocked on the table to get Elara's attention as the commanders drew closer to their table. "Hey, boss. How was your leave?"

"Short," Fynta answered. "I'd like to wrap this up quickly so I can get back to it."

"Where did you finally decide to go?" Elara asked without looking up from her datapad.

"Ithor," Jorgan answered, and Cormac thought the Cathar looked a little triumphant at having been able to keep their destination a secret.

Fynta flashed an endearing smile, one that made her look a lot more refreshed than she had last week. "How about you two?" she asked, picking at Elara's half eaten breakfast.

"Yes, sir," Elara nodded, moving the plate closer to the major.

His wife had yet to look up from that bloody device, so Balic peaked over the edge to see what had her so captivated. "Apartments?" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Elara finally looked up, and her expression one of annoyance, rather than embarrassment. "I thought we might need a place away from the SIS to plan our operation." She scowled at the datapad again. "But, these prices are outrageous."

Cormac caught a meaningful glance pass between the commanders. "That's a good idea, Dorne," Fynta began. "But, let's hold off on that for the time being. Just until we get the details from Balkar." Jorgan usually tensed when someone said the SIS agent's name. Balic wasn't sure what had gone on between them, but the Cathar definitely didn't like the guy.

Elara had mentioned that the last time they'd met Agent Balkar the Slippery Slopes Cantina. This time, they were called directly into the official SIS office in the Republic Embassy. Balkar, a man Cormac had only seen from a distance or in holos, waited in the lobby. "Ah, Major!" The man had a dashing smile, great hair, smooth voice, and roguish charm. Cormac finally understand why the captain had taken an immediate disliking to him. He was everything Jorgan wasn't, and Elara warned Balic that Fynta had a tendency to match his wit.

"If it isn't my favorite woman in the galaxy." Balkar grabbed Fynta by the shoulders, still smiling. "We never did get those drinks, but now I'm hearing rumors that you're off limits?"

Fynta's eyebrow arched, but Cormac saw the way her shoulders stiffened. "Mind telling me who's been spreading rumors?"

"You know, here and there," Balkar answered with the dismissive wave. "Alright," he continued, clapping his hands before Fynta could argue.

Balkar ushered them into one of the side rooms and shut the door behind him. "Lieutenant Dorne, I hear congratulations are in order. This must be Balic." Cormac shook the proffered hand before Balkar continued. "I tell you, I'm in the wrong line of work. Looks like Havoc Squad is the place to be if you're lonely. Rumor has it there was something going on between Tavus and that Mirialan assassin of his. Of course, now we'll never really know." Cormac had met that woman face to face. He didn't see the attraction.

Fynta watched Balkar move about the room, getting stuff set up for their briefing, with a wary suspicion. Cormac had to remind himself that a friendly SIS agent was the most dangerous type. "Why did you really call me, Jonas?"

"Can't pull anything over on you, can I?" Balkar replied while he warmed up the holotable in the middle of the room.

Fynta crossed her arms. "SIS, remember?"

"So you were. I heard you picked up quite a few tricks from your time with us. You're CO wasn't happy about losing you. Best record in the squad." Jonas looked suitably impressed. "I'm assuming Cormac and Dorne are here because you trust them?"

Fynta nodded. "What are you playing at?"

"Meet your target." Balkar pressed a button on his datapad, and the image of a thin woman in red and black beskar'gam appeared on the table. Balkar watched Fynta intently, so he probably missed Cormac's moment of surprised recognition.

Fynta stepped closer to examine the image, her face could have been made from stone for all the emotion it displayed. Finally, she nodded. "Cinlat Ejnar." Balic had just recovered from his shock when it hit him all over again to hear the major name the culprit.

"So, you know her?" Balkar asked, tapping away on his datapad.

"Of course." Fynta walked a slow circle around the image of a woman holding out two long barreled blasters. "Adopted by the Mand'alore, winner of the Great Hunt, previously on the Republic's most wanted list, until the Chancellor announced that it had been a Jedi ploy." She stopped and looked Balkar in the eye. "Every Mandalorian worth their credits knows who she is." Fynta nodded towards Elara. "A lot of Imperials know her too."

"It's true, sir. I was responsible for monitoring her activities during my early career with the Imperial military," Elara added. Cormac finally caught on and leaned against the wall to avoid drawing attention to himself. Subtlety wasn't high in his skillset. It would be best to let the women handle this one.

"I wonder what she's doing on Nar Shaddaa," Fynta mused, and Cormac bet that one was an honest question.

Balkar looked a little deflated by Fynta's logical explanation, but plowed forward with the briefing. "We're not sure. She and another, a male of unidentifiable species, broke into a warehouse where we had a sting operation set to take down the Black Sons responsible for smuggling in implants for slave collars."

Balkar pulled up an image of Cinlat's accomplice. "Do you recognize him?"

"His armor looks familiar," Fynta hedged. "I'd heard that she finally got married a few years back."

"Hmm," Balkar scanned through his datapad. "Our intel doesn't have anything about that—nothing official, at least."

Fynta shook her head, braid slapping against her pauldron. "Mandalorians don't need a piece of paper to commit their lives to one another. They have their own customs." She used they and Mandalorians a lot. Cormac realized that she was setting herself apart, distancing her involvement.

"Think you can track them down?" Balkar asked.

"I can. On one condition." Fynta held up a hand to stop the agent's complaint. "You let my squad and I handle this our way. No SIS involvement."

"Fine." Balkar agreed too quickly for Balic's comfort. "But, I get access to visual and audio feeds while you're on the mission." He flashed a rakish smile. "I certainly don't want it when you're off duty anymore."

Fynta actually laughed, but Jorgan didn't look amused. "Deal. Starting tomorrow. My team and I need to plan, and I have people to contact who might be able to expedite this process." She paused. "Are you wanting the targets neutralized or captured?"

Cormac held his breath, wondering if Fynta would really be able to pull the trigger on her brother and his wife. Balkar considered for a moment. "As much as I'd like to place her head on a pike, I think my boss wants her for questioning."

"You do realize Mandalorians aren't likely to break under torture, right?" Fynta commented offhandedly, and it sounded to Balic a lot like she was pressing for the neutralize option. "They train from a young age to resist physical and mental punishment."

"Right," Balkar held up a finger. "But, she wasn't raised Mandalorian, was she? Escaped pit fighter is what I have in my notes. So, she's tough, but not trained."

"If that's her husband," Fynta nodded towards the holo of her brother, "he would have trained her. It's the only decent thing to do given the line of work they're in."

Balkar stared blankly at Fynta. "No shit?" Cormac was pretty sure that his expression mirrored the SIS agent's, and Aric looked appalled. Fynta and Elara were the only ones in the room who seemed immune to the idea of a man torturing his wife for her own good. That said a lot about that the kind of women Cormac found attractive. Dorne was a lot harder case than he'd given her credit for.

Eventually, Balkar found his voice again. "That's not up to me. Try to bring her in alive, but don't get yourself killed in the process. You still owe me one more favor."

They settled on mission specific details, and Havoc filed out into the busy promenade with a massive golden Hutt in the middle. The thing reached from the floor to the ceiling, and Cormac couldn't believe that looters hadn't chiseled chunks out of it.

"Haar'chak!" Fynta swore. She looked at Jorgan, her expression livid. "No choice. I don't trust Balkar to honor our deal."

The Cathar glanced at Balic and Elara before nodding. "I don't think it'll be a problem."

Fynta pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "Let's hail a cab. We have a long night ahead of us."

Balic had never given much thought to what it might be like to work in the SIS, but so far, it seemed a lot like the holovids. They switched taxis five times, doubling back twice, until Fynta was finally satisfied that they'd lost the tail that no one else had made. "Sneak bastard," she grumbled. "Should've known better."

The cab came to stop on a personal speeder pad, and Fynta went to the driver's window. She laid her blaster against the window and offered the driver triple the amount. "For your trouble."

The guy glanced at the blaster, then nodded. "Much obliged, this'll go a long way towards that medication for my memory problems."

"Good man." Fynta tapped the top of the cab, and he zoomed off into the dark skyline. When Cormac turned to see where they were, Jorgan already had his hand pressed to a biometric scanner. Fynta swept past when the door opened, and Cormac followed her into a smartly decorated sitting room. The major stopped in the center of the room and spread her arms. "Welcome to my best kept secret, guys."

Cormac stood on the top step to take it all in. "So, this is where you both disappear to whenever we have leave." It had a cozy kitchen-sitting area, a big fireplace—for an actual fire, artwork from around the galaxy, and some of the most comfortable looking couches he'd ever seen. There were even stairs that led down to a private balcony. "Nice"

Elara wandered around the main area, examining the artwork and nodding with approval. "I thought you had a safe house on this planet," she commented as she stopped to take a closer look at the big painting of a guy holding a steel sword. "It's quite lovely, sir."

"Yeah, pretty selfish of me, I know." Although, Fynta didn't look the least bit ashamed. "This place is completely tricked out. Nearly unsliceable."

"How?" Elara asked, tearing her gaze from the image.

Fynta chuckled. "Old tech. Really old. Everything from jammers to one way tinting on the windows. The lower the tech, the more efficient on a planet like this."

"Fascinating." As if on cue, the datapad reappeared in Elara's hand, and Fynta and Cormac grinned at one another.

"Make yourselves at home. You can have the spare room since Cinlat and Verin bought a place out on Tatooine. They won't be needing it." Fynta's tone changed as she stomped over to an old holopad in the corner of the room and typed in a signal that had to be encoded three times.

Aric leaned against the kitchen counter. "This should be interesting." Balic settled on the barstool to see what Jorgan was talking about. Eventually, Elara joined them.

Verin answered on the third ring. "Fynta, now's not a good time." Then, it vanished.

Jorgan took a deep breath. "Uh, oh."

Fynta growled and typed the numbers in again. "Listen, vod'ika, I really don't have time rig-"

"Make time," she spat, cutting her brother off. "Havoc Squad has been called to Nar Shaddaa." Fynta said it in that calm voice that alleged she had seriously considered shooting something.

Verin stared at Fynta in silence, jaw working furiously before deciding that a lie wouldn't fly this time.

"Fierfek."