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Post by Whill Shaman Xixo on Feb 27, 2013 16:32:59 GMT -8
*The history is currently unknown.*
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Corr
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Post by Corr on Apr 22, 2013 0:35:27 GMT -8
An agricultural world at the edge of the mid rim, the mottled orb of Concord Dawn spun lazily beneath the starry expanse of space, watched vigilantly by several savage-looking warships. The home of Clan Vhett, the place was heavily defended though no threat had come to its door for decades. Often just the reputation of the Clan name was enough to make any antagonist see sense. Cassus Fett was gone but the Clan lived on under the leadership of his adopted son, Corr. The family had likewise drifted away, Jaro off on his own path of destruction, Amy and the twins in hiding... Only Corr remained nowadays and he was absent more than often. Still, there were plenty here to see to the running and security of the place. Life goes on and, in Jai'galaar, and in the multiple farms scattered across the planet, it went on well.
The Concord Dawn Victory Fleet (CDVF) moved out from its orbit above Jai'galaar, moving past the Concordian Home Fleet as it made its way to its jump point. Under the command of Corr Vhett, Aliit'or Vhett, it moved to the jump point to the Mandalore system and disappeared into the void.
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Cayne
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Post by Cayne on May 17, 2013 12:46:21 GMT -8
Drifting further out from the planet, in a defensive cordon around the agricultural world, the Concordian Home Fleet sat in vigilant watch over its charge. Spread out slightly, with the an Aggressor-Class Star Destroyer, Marev Naakla, the center of a line formation that curved around the mottled green and brown orb, it poised in roughly the same line from Jai'galaar as that of the Victory Fleet that had just left the system. There were two Crusader-Class Corvettes to either side of the Marev Naakla, drifting in a position where their sensors and weapons could form overlapping fields of fire and detection. Beyond the Corvettes a Keldabe-Class Battleship lurked, its array of weaponry adding punch to the rapid stab of the Corvettes. Finally two more Corvettes made up the fleet, one to either end of the formation, ready to intercept any who would try make a run at the Vhett homeworld...
Cayne Tristan stood on the bridge of his flagship and watched the Victory Fleet and his Aliit'or disappear into the void.
"Jate oya'karirade, alor."
He muttered under his breath, wishing his friend a safe journey and good hunting. He frowned slightly, mixed feelings at being excluded from the coming fight surfacing again. He recalled with a wince his row with Corr the previous day down at the Homestead, remembering his petulant insistence that he should lead the Vhett flotilla to Mandayaim not Corr. Though Corr was warleader as well as Chieftain, it was Caynes duty to command the Concordian Fleets a command laid upon him by Cassus, Corr's father. He had argued this point to Corr, insisting that his duty came from a source higher than Corr's, one that could no be countermanded. As soon as he had utter those fateful words he had regretted it, seeing Corr's expression go flat. That had been the end of the discussion. Corr had flatly order Cayne to do as he commanded then left, his silence screaming his disapproval louder than words.
Cayne sighed heavily at the dissent he had shown. He had let the familiarity between them cloud what was proper in their interaction. That they had studied together, trained together, and grown up together didn't mean that he could gainsay the orders of his Alor even if he disagreed with them. Not in the way he had anyway.
The sigh turned into a heavy exhale. Ah well. It was done now and the words could not be unsaid.
He turned to the comm officer at the sound of a tone and raised a dark eyebrow questioningly.
=Comm Officer=
Admiral. Commander Maraak is on his way. He requests a ship be made ready to depart immediately.
Ahh. Mysterious Commander Maraak off on one of his cloak and dagger errands. He nodded gravely and turned towards the turbolift, speaking over his shoulder as he walked.
"Transmit confirmation of his request and tell the hangar bay to ready the Skotah Iisa for departure."
The Skotah Iisa, or Short Fuse in basic, was one of the refitted Skipray 24R Blastboats, twin of the one Corr himself flew. Heavily armed and well shielded it was the clans preferred ship for long-range missions. There were several scattered throughout the Concordian Fleets and several of them, Skotah Iisa included, had been modified to be manned by one person.
He would offer Maraak a crew, he thought as the turbolift sped him to the hangar level, though he suspected the spy would want to go alone.
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Corr
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Post by Corr on May 22, 2013 14:08:22 GMT -8
Maraak stood looking up at the nose of the Skipray Blastboat, head tilted to one side as he listened to the pilot running through her pre-flight check. He had surprised Cayne by accepting a pilot and a navigator for the trip, citing vague reasons for their inclusions to go with the vague parameters of his mission. He smiled. Cayne was one of the few Mando'ade commanders who didn't frown, scowl or question him in his endeavors. They had both trained with Corr and Cassus from a young age and Cayne knew better than most the nebulous nature of Maraak's job. Te Haaranovore, some called him. The Hidden. There were other, less than charming names, but The Hidden seemed to be the most common. He pondered that for a moment, considering the fact that he stood in plain sight most of the time. Perhaps they were referring to his nefarious actions being concealed and out of sight. Or perhaps-
=Pilot=
The Admiral says we are fee to depart.
The dry voice, conveyed through the pilots buy'ce with a grating rattle, tore him from his musings, making him blink. It was the only sign that he had even heard and he held his silence for a few seconds, counting each one out meticulously. When he got to five he turned languidly and fixed his piercing blue eyes on her. A student of psychology he knew how to alter peoples perceptions in a variety of ways, this time making it seem as though he had been listening the whole time and had not been away in his own world wool gathering.
He nodded once, a sharp jerk of the head, before marching off towards the ramp.
"Very well, ad'ika. Lets get this show on the road."
He uttered the words over his shoulder, not looking back to see if they were carried out. In fact this would be the last he would see of the pilot until they got to their destination system. A system already programmed into her visors HUD. It would be the last he would see of anyone until they arrived, around the same time as Corr would be assaulting Yavin IV, in the Geonosis system.
The Blastboat left the confined of the Marev Naakla and immediately banked onto an outbound vector, its trajectory indicating a trip around the rim. Once free of the planets gravity well it lined up on its final approach to its jump coordinates before vanishing into the void.
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Cayne
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Post by Cayne on Jun 26, 2013 12:48:25 GMT -8
Cayne stood sentinel as the flotilla slowly grew in size before him, assembling in space outside the viewports of the Aggressor-Class Star Destroyer, "Marav Naakla". It had been nearly two days since Corr had departed with his fleet, just under that since Maraak had left on his mysterious errand, and Cayne had not been idle. He and Corr had discussed possible measures they could take against Jedi reprisals and had ironed out a few countermeasures to employ for each scenario they had imagined. A thorough planner by nature, Cayne had sought to minimise any threat the Jedi posed to his homeworld as well as those of the Mandalorians as a whole. While Mandalore was a likely target the planet, despite the bulk of their standing forces striking at Jedi targets, was still heavily defended. Those Mandalorians not with the clans would drift in and out of that system, creating a roaming defense that was pretty much always present. While it liked the capital firepower it would normally have there was plenty there to make an attacking fleet think twice. Still, it was a likely target and Cayne had one eye on the capital of the sector as he arranged his own house to meet whatever reprisals were coming.
Dathomir was another location that held the Concordian Admirals attention at this time. While not an influential or rich a target as Mandalore or Concord Dawn it did have a strategic value, at least in relation to this system. It was closer to the front at Yavin for one and had been earmarked for a resupply dump for the forces currently deployed. While this was practical and prudent there was another reason. By setting up a supply line through Dathomir Cayne and Corr hoped to dictate where the Jedi struck should they decide to do so. If he were in charge of any Jedi fleets not currently tied up on one of the target planets then he'd see about cutting those supply lines as soon as he could, thus leaving the beskar war machine to grind to a halt. Of course, none could say what the crazy magicians would do with any certainty as they had no honour and operated in the theater of war in such an alien way to his line of thinking. Perhaps they wouldn't come at all, instead scurrying off to lurk on Tython where the corrupt institution had originated. Where that decadent society belonged. Where they should go to die...
A light flashed on the console in front of him, a corresponding tone sounding from the helmet he held in his right hand, and he leaned forward to answer the call. There was no voice, just a text message that flashed up on the display signifying the convoy was ready to depart. With a slight nod to himself he keyed in the order and watched as one of the Keldabe-Class ships, the Drall, moved from its designated place in his line to join the two Crusader-Class Corvettes that were already there as they prepared to accompany the freighters on their trip to Dathomir.
He watched the flotilla move of, silently mouthing a prayer to Kad for their safe journey, and turned away from the viewports as they disappeared into the void. The Home Fleet closed ranks around the gaps where their sister ships had been, the Aggressor still at the center and flanked by the remaining four Crusaders. The "Kote" lurked forlornly at the edges of the formation, as if missing its twin...
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Mira Yim
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Post by Mira Yim on Jul 28, 2013 13:00:47 GMT -8
After the shuttle arrived at the station and they disembarked, Brunner's back seemed to straighten, standing a little taller and a little firmer than before. It wouldn't be so bad. A couple of months of captaincy, however boring a run it might be, and everything will have blown over. When he returned, assuming all went successful, he might even be given a better command. There were plenty of Vatta captains nearing retirement. Captains with much bigger ships too, newer ships, unlike this rust bucket.
He looked at the Glenny Jones, unimpressed but still mildly intrigued. She was old for certain, but not entirely obsolete. What would it take to get her refitted and back in running order? This mission was to scrap her for credit, but how unexpected would it be for Brunner to try and make a go of it on his own? Vatta family members had a reputation, he knew that much from having listened to Aunt Gracie's stories.
Within the hour the ship was loaded up and ready for departure. They'd need to make a stop on Tatooine along the way to sell their cargo, but after that it would be straight to Ord Mantell. Brunner, now standing in the cockpit, rested a hand on the pilot's shoulder.
"Take us out, Lee."
"Aye, Captain."
With minimal shaking the medium freighter pulled away from the station and began to head out to deep space. They transmitted a final farewell to Vatta HQ via the in-system holonet relay, then made the jump to lightspeed.
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Cayne
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Post by Cayne on Jul 24, 2014 5:02:55 GMT -8
With the disaster at Yavin pulling the teeth from the Mandalorian war engine the varying systems of the once mighty empire were left to attend to their own affairs, seeking to gather what resources they could to themselves before the carrion eaters closed in to absorb the spoils. With Ashrah and Corr MIA, and the Mandalorian Empire leaderless, the star systems were independent in their governance. This state of affairs posed little problem for Concord Dawn, having officially split from the Mandalorian Empire following the ascension of Ashrah to the Helm. Cassus Fett's legacy of a system removed from the politic and warmongering of Mandalore lived on and the system went about its business in the usual efficient manner of those born of farm and land. Corr Vhett had been shrewd in his separation of Ashrah's regime and his home, managing to follow the Resolnare but keeping his people isolated from any of the backlash. The men who had embarked upon the ill-fated campaign to annihilate the Jedi had all been volunteers; men with grown sons to carry their name. Only those that had accompanied Corr would be lost to the planet, left in the memories of those that survived them, to live forever in the Manda beyond death...
Of those that had followed Corr into the fire many still returned, what was left of the Concordian fleet limping back into the system to join with the home fleet and secure that which was precious and sacred. Re-fitted and recovered in the months since the defeat the Concordian flotilla was once again sufficient in might to secure their home system, just like it was assumed had happened in the Mandalore system. Like the Mando'ade home system, Concord Dawn would live on despite the failure of the Empire as a whole, thriving in trade and prosperity in the face of ill-conceived grandeur.
Of Corr and Ashrah there had still been no word and Concord Dawn lived under a cloud of mourning for their missing leader. Not long after the death of Cassus Fett they had lost Corr, the line once mighty and seemingly invincible faded from its glory. Unknown was the fate of Amaranth and her children, lost was Jaro Fett, adrift in the mysteries of the Dathomiri witches dwelt Sabine... Cassus' legacy continued only in the fate of Concord Dawn and those that abided there were determined not to see the grand ideal fail...
With uncharacteristic heat Cayne spun on one foot and levelled a scowl at the source of the bad news. His piercing blue eyes looking tired, and a pale cast to his skin signifying too much time spend on board his bridge, the toll of command was starting to show. The young captain grimaced slightly at his commander ire but stood his ground in face of the annoyance. Recently returned from the outer rim, ostensibly to further trade but in reality to seek news as to the fate of the Aliit'or, his lack of news was something that was becoming hard to stomach for Cayne. With a sigh the Concordian Admiral swallowed his discontent and nodded his head, dismissing the man with a tired wave of the hand and forestalling any comment he'd later regret. It was better to receive news of Corr's death that continue in these doldrums of uncertainty, he thought grimly. He shook his head, annoyed at his defeatist thoughts. As long as there was hope it was worth hoping. In the mean time...
He turned to face the huge viewports on the bridge of the Marev Naakla, an Aggressor-Class Star Destroyer, dragging his hand through his curly black hair. Outside the viewports the modest shipyards of Concord Dawn were finishing repairs on what fleet assets had returned from Yavin and Ossus, the Concordian armada now back to what wasn't far off its full strength. Another detail that was a blessing to be ticked of his ever growing list. Thankfully the agricultural world below ran itself, with each family responsible for their own lands. It was only the martial aspects that needed his attention and, unfortunately, there were a lot of them. Still, he thought as he turned his attention to his datapad, being busy meant prosperity. Concordian mercenary's were in high demand at the moment, unrest and discontent following any form of upheaval good news for those in the business of war. His eyes roved down the details on the 'pad, noting requests for Ori'ramikad, ships, beskar... Those that he could respond to he did while other he flagged for future correspondence should he be able to facilitate the requests.
One such message tweaked his interests. Slaves taken. Assistance requested...
With a grunt he turned and marched towards the turbolifts, intent upon his goals.
Meanwhile the Marev Naakla drifted at the centre of a formation of Crusader Gunships, the two Keldabe-Class warships, Dral and the recently refitted Kote lurking on the flanks.
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Corr
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Post by Corr on Mar 3, 2015 18:53:17 GMT -8
The traffic between the Concordian Fleet and the military base on the planet was never quiet but the frequency had dropped quite a bit over the last few days. The occasional shuttle would depart the fleet and sink into the atmosphere, or rise from the cloud to seek out one of the capital ships that protected the world. Starfighter patrols were also common, drifting in and out of the fleet formation, also occasionally making runs planet side. Civilian traffic was far more minimal, especially in the space about Jai'galaar. Most commercial traffic was directed to whatever destination they were listed for, the area above the base kind of a no fly zone. The occasional bulk freighter and cargo skiff as known to approach though space was empty as the ageing Pursuer-Class starship rose from the planet.
Eyes like pieces of flint peered out at the Concordian ships hovering protectively over the world that was their charge. His right hand opened and closed again around the controls as he guided his ship towards a jump point. While not as fast as his previous ship The Chapel boasted excellent shields and an impressive amount of firepower for a vessel its size. Twin blasters and an ion cannon were backed up by a proton torpedo launcher that contained a magazine of 6 missiles. The ship had also been modified to carry a mine launcher containing proximity and ion variants of the device.
Motir koyc, mi vode...
His voice was soft, barely a whisper, echoing strangely on the silent bridge. His right hand flexed again as the ship passed off the starboard bow of the Concordian flagship, Marev Naakla.
Partaylir, val nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la...
They ship banked slightly to align with its jump vector and waggled along its axis in salute to the Flagship as it fell behind. With a flicker of pseudo motion it was gone...
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Post by Aya D'Ordinii on Mar 26, 2015 12:03:09 GMT -8
A single small light freighter jumped out of hyperspace & back into the bland reality of normal space. Or at least that was how Engineer Luce D'Ordinii saw it. Currently he was one of the three people on the ship. He had known the other two since way back in basic where they had trained, grown, & graduated with him. True, he was a little nervous so far from the rest of the colony, but it was still a job that needed to be done. Hopefully, they wouldn't have much trouble finding someone willing to trade in fuel & spare parts, something the ancient Kauti Rose was always in need of.
It wasn't much longer before the small ship cleared planetary traffic control & headed down toward the surface.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 26, 2015 15:20:41 GMT -8
A single YV-666 light freighter dropped from hyperspace and into the Orbit of Concord Dawn, an agricultural world at the edge of the mid rim and the stronghold of the Mandalorian Clan Vhett. Ahead of the freighter, though, a modified HWK-290 flew in, obviously some kind of lead for the freighter as both made their way in a holding position in the sights of the Orbital Fleet that served to defend the planet and its inhabitants below.
Reaching down to the control panel in front of him, Conall opened up a comlink on a broadband frequency hoping to establish contact with the one in charge of controlling the traffic coming in and out of the planet. "Concord Control, requesting for myself and my fellow Vode of Clan Ordo to proceed to the planet's surface below." He released the transmission and the line fell silent as he waited for either a confirmation or a denial in response to his request.
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Cayne
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Post by Cayne on Mar 26, 2015 15:26:07 GMT -8
The fleet remained silent and brooding as it watched the freighters approach. Like the previous visitor this one broadcast Mandalorian codes and would not be bothered by a flyby. After a few moments static hissed and a voice barked out a few words of greeting in heavily accented Mando'a. A beacon appeared on the freighters navicomputer and the voice burst over the comm again bidding them to descend.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 26, 2015 17:02:28 GMT -8
The engines of the HWK-290 flared to life, propelling the ship towards the planet of mixed shades of green with some varying tans, likely being that of deserts and areas where life would be harsher to sustain. Following it, the light freighter trailed in tandem, its destination being wherever the lead craft went.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 5, 2015 18:14:55 GMT -8
Concord Dawn lofted humbly in open space here on the fringes of the Mid Rim territories; its surface dyed a quaint green because of the farms and other agriculture the painted the planet's surface. Several ships meant for war filled the orbital space before the world that spun lazily in its orbit, their allegiance tied to the esteemed Mandalorian Clan of Vhett whose name housed legends such as Jango, Boba and Cassus. It really was quite a marvel that this world had stood so long in its present state. The values of the culture weaved heavily into everyday life and even the bloodlines that sprung up from this planet had trickled outward and instilled some amount of influence on a number of other peoples and cultures.
Well, Geir had spent a few years with Mandalorians in his past, but even with living among a clan of the moon of Dxun for the few years that he had, he was still considered an outsider. Aruetii. He would not find a place within these people . . . this honor bound family of warriors. That said, he would never discount the lessons that they could teach.
Geir shifted slightly in the pilot's chair aboard the bridge, refocusing his gaze to his fore and the Renegade shifted from hyperspace to a sub-light crawl, approaching the shining green orb that now spun magnificently in front of him. This was it! Concord Dawn; the bustling home of the Mandalorian clan of farmers! His eyes blinked hard for a moment and his head shook as the sarcastic thought lofted through his mind. A grin crept across his face before he let out a low chuckle. "Take 'er in, Bucket." Geir's voice run outward to the R-series Astromech droid that was plugged into the ship doing the majority of the ship's piloting at the moment. His voice had a deepness about it, but not overpoweringly so. No, the voice carried more of a sense of experience mixed with a need to cut up occasionally. Old and young, all in one, something with a more rustic overtone to it.
Bucket let out a series of beeps and whistles in acknowledgement to the Morellian's command, sending the ship hurling toward heavily defended orbit. Before breaking within a couple of kilometers, the Renegade would come to nearly a complete halt. Authorization and proof of reason would be transmitted before the ship's shielding would drop with the exception of atmospheric shielding. This was a quick in and out. A simple pick up and repayment of a friend's debt. There was no reason to suspect that any sort of orders would be given for the Renegade to be shot down and so long as he didn't arm weapons and abided by everything any ship in orbit would say should they choose to attempt and hail him, no such orders should be given. But then again, this was a Mandalorian planet and from his his personal experience, anything have to do with Mandalorian was full of surprises.
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Cayne
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Post by Cayne on Jun 7, 2015 8:41:18 GMT -8
The Marev Naakla continued to drift lazily in a geosynchronous orbit above the military base of Jai'galaar on the mottled brown and green planet below. With its angular bow facing outwards from the planet it turned along with Concord Dawn like an angry red thorn sprouted from the shimmering atmosphere. With the rest of the Concordian fleet spread around the planet the Aggressor-Class Star Destroyer sat a lonely vigil over its planetary charge.
Cayne shifted restlessly in his command chair as he studied a datapad held casually in his right hand. His head was bare leaving his jet black hair free to spill down onto his shoulders. Stubble coated his sharp jaw and lent a raggedness to his appearance that differed from his usual clean-cut look. His armour was also absent, the unadorned and rather plain tunic and hose his preferred garb whilst off duty, another factor that spoke to a slight change in the military discipline of the system.
The logistics for the mission to Algara II were coming along nicely yet he had still to see the arrival of some of the key personnel needed for the delicate operation. While such details were of slight concern it would still be a day or more before things would be ready, giving still plenty of time for those missing pieces to be present.
A tone from his datapad drew his attention to the top right corner where he had linked the device to the systems sensor stations, giving him a view of what the air traffic control saw. It had gone off more times to count in the last few hours but Cayne liked to keep abreast of the traffic in and out of the system despite delegating such concerns to others.
He listened absently as the Aye Tee See controller queried the new arrival, a tough and adaptable YX model from Corellian Engineering, requesting information as to the intention of its captain...
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Post by Deleted on Aug 12, 2015 14:30:26 GMT -8
Soaring up from the planet's embrace below was the Renegade, a Corellian YX-1980 Space Transport; it wouldn't be long before she would tear herself from its warm and tender hold. Once it had shaken itself free, the ship's Captain, a Morellian known as Geir Hammand, pushed the throttle down and forward from the Pilot's seat, rapidly increasing the vessel's speed while weaving effortlessly through any and all space faring traffic. Once the ship had cleared the orbital space, it blasted off into hyperspace with its intent to pick up the next member of the assembling crew.
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Kylarn Fett
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Post by Kylarn Fett on Mar 7, 2016 11:32:18 GMT -8
Entering the system from the outer rim, a single YT-2550 enters orbit over Concord Dawn and begins scanning the system. Aboard the ship was a hired man, not the owner. Orders were given to scan for the Fett Homestead. Life scans conducted, as well as scans for large numbers of soldiers. Someone wanted to know who or what was on Concord Dawn. If there were to be a trace of the scans the line would lead directly back to a comm transmission to Mandalore. Where the owner of the ship was. Hours passed as the ship continued to rest in orbit until it would be summoned back. Only once it's job was completed.
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Corr
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Post by Corr on Mar 7, 2016 19:41:51 GMT -8
Cresting gloriously over the lazy curve of the planet's horizon, the Concordian home fleet followed its flagship, the Marev Naakla, in its graceful orbit of its charge. The fleet had formed up on the Aggressor-Class to take part in "maneuvers" ordered by high command, the last of many it had undertaken in the last few weeks. It was unclear the purpose of such drills but it was obvious something was behind the breakup in the monotony of the last few months.
As the fleet began to disperse back to their assigned patrols the Naakla allowed its scanners to flash across the newcomer to the system, an automated signal querying the other ships computer, seeking the reason for its presence. Two Besuliike starfighters prepped in the bay in anticipation of trouble but did not launch as yet.
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Kylarn Fett
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Post by Kylarn Fett on Mar 8, 2016 1:26:50 GMT -8
The young paid man saw the passing fleet as a sign. Immediately sending the frequencies he had been instructed. Lights blipped across the panel of the old freighter as he continued to do what he was paid to do. After a moment he said something to himself that was illegible and then entered a comm frequency to the fleet.
If you'll check the frequency I just sent to you Commander, you'll see that it checks out. Old, but still works. The young man sat back and waited for a response, uncertain that he would receive one. He knew the ways of the old man's people, even if he had not adopted them over the years. This would be interesting to say the least. A fleet over Concord Dawn meant there was still something, still someone present and the old man would want to know it.
Kylarn Fett wished to see what was remaining on his homeworld. He's returned to Mandalore. His words eft his mouth with a slight tremble. But he leaned back in the seat and waited as instructed.
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Corr
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Post by Corr on Mar 8, 2016 4:21:51 GMT -8
The comm crackled and buzzed savagely for a moment, as if it were an insect trying to form the harsh lines of the language that was to follow.
Bal tion'ad gar, burc'ya?
{{ And who are you, friend? }}
The tone wasn't particularly friendly, the buzzing undertone of suspicion easily noticeable even over the garbled distortion of the comm system. The aftermath of Ashrah's crusade was still very much fresh in the minds of many of the vode and the Concordians were now even more suspicious of outsiders, even other Mandalorians...
Gar'ir nayc Kylarn Vhett...
{{ You are not Kylarn Vhett... }}
Despite the apparent animosity the Naakla slowed in its approach, alerted fighters standing down, and banked to face her pointed prow out away from the planet. The clearance codes had indeed checked out as belonging to Kylarn Vhett, a man that had been absent for some time, and while many would want to welcome home a son and brother, such codes could still have fallen into the wrong hands...
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Kylarn Fett
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Post by Kylarn Fett on Mar 10, 2016 4:40:03 GMT -8
Aboard the freighter the young man trembled at the response for a moment, he was still young, but a fine pilot indeed. Hired by the man himself to fly the ship owned by Ky to Concord Dawn and see what was there.
Fingers pressing the comms as he stared down the ships before him in the distance he spoke. My name is Jii'ka, I have no clan, my father is dead. Kylarn Fett gave me credits for the next few months to support my family if I flew his ship here to seek out who was left on Concord Dawn, he thought perhaps some of his clan were still alive and here on Concord Dawn. He is on Mandalore now, trying to stir our people to rise again. He specifically asked me to find Cassus' homestead, and to seek out a man named Corr.
Leaning back in the seat of the freighter the young man took in a deep breath, unsure of what would happen next. Part of him thought he should immediately turn about and leave, he had come and done what was asked, at least mostly. But he wouldn't back down from the task, that was not their way. Frightened he continued to stare at the flagship, knowing well that if someone had taken Concord Dawn from the Fett Clan this would be the last anyone would hear of him.
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Corr Vhett - puts the "Laughter" in "Manslaughter"..... 
