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Concord Dawn


Adi-Wan
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  • 4 years later...

A small group of Mandalorians moved through a forest as they went from location to location on the former Journeyman Protectors homeworld. Many of the settlements were small houses and groupings of those who called this planet home. They passed by a few houses as the group searched for something very particular for their Mand'alor. Gronn Lerr held his hand up as the group went to enter a house that seemed unoccupied. "No. Not this one. This belonged to the Ad'Goran family. There would be nothing of value within. The next house ahead may have more value to us."

 

Even as the group moved forward, another in the group spoke up. "But didn't Ad'Goran travel with Kandor Nor'an, the Mand'alor before Terra? Surely Tros has interest in those travels." Gronn looked back at the man. Jorad Lo, wearing silver orange and black upon his armor and one of the former solo Protectors to turn to the main hub right before the events of Nar Shaddaa. Gronn figured that the man interacted with Kandor in a minimal fashion to not have a bad view of him as Tros did, and from stories interacted with him a bit more than a few times. "Mand'alor wants only information on the travels of Terra. Kandor is irrelevant to him."

 

Letting the conversation die out, he raised his Westar Assault Rifle back up and began to move in closer with Kyr, who was already at the farm homestead and double checking that it was indeed empty. As the rest of the squad caught up, Jorad spoke again. "Do we know exactly what Tros is looking for?" "Terra had some very small and minor connections here to other clans. CLEAR." Kyr responded before he opened the door to the homestead. Gronn gave a smile at the young and eager lad, who was clearly wanting to make an impression on the group. "Tros gave us to task of finding more clues to her travel through her contacts, and to recruit if we find anyone who may be willing to join. We can explore the small villages and cities later. After this house." Gronn moved his hand to signal the end of the conversation and for the rest of the group to enter the hosue and search it. They needed to find what they were tasked with. And he personally was assigned another task that he kept from the group. A retrieval of an item from Mand'alor

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Mishuk gotal'u meshuroke, pako kyore.

 

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The Lambda shuttle sped over the open countryside, speeding towards the nearly deserted surface, keeping low to avoid any planetside radar installations the few big cities that the planet still had. The once mighty Mandalorian empire still held strict control of these worlds, and their fleets maintained an eternal vigilance over the Mandalorian homeworlds even as their society stagnated and fell deep into irrelevancy. An Iron clad society of soldiers who rotted away behind their impenetrable armour. 

 

Why had he once desired to be a part of such a group? The scanners showed agricultural zones, most fallowed as all the farmers who tended them had become soldiers. How could a society afford to keep such a massive army and yet also maintain a stable economy? The answers were laid out before them, and Delta could only shake his head. For there were more important things to worry about than the state of the Mandalorian people. Ca’Aran had to get to ground, to hide, to become non-existent until the flow of the galaxy once again turned its eyes away from the Sith. He had to protect the children that were in his care, and that was all that mattered.

 

His memories of Concord Dawn were murky, but there were some names that stood out from the mire. The Kal-Korans. Their palatial estate was likely still tucked into the deep woods and as abandoned as he and Crosa had left it. 

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Ca'Aran

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The small group of Mandalorians finished their task of searching the homestead of a connection to Terra and was slowly withdrawing from the home when Gronn was stopped by Kyr, the young and eager lad of the group. "Lambda shuttle just swept in rather low. Took almost a similar approach to the one we took in, just from a different angle." THe older one looked for a moment at Kyr. Clad in his own style of grey, silver and red, he was indeed in every sense wanting to get noticed by those who were above him. Mimicking the style and color of many within House Solus and doing everything he could to impress. Only Gronn and Jorad didn't wear the red color in the small group. He looked down the direction he that Kyr pointed and scanned the area. 

 

"No record of a homestead that way... but I am picking up life forms, if ever so slightly... Might be worth scouting the area, but we don't need everyone for that." He then turned around and looked directly at Jorad. "You take command and head back and await for us. I'll take the young lad and scout the area. Might be worth the insight for Mand'alor down the road to know if settlements are growing here." Jorad nodded his head and quickly gave the order for everyone else to head back. As they did, Gronn looked at Kyr and gave his own nod to move forward. "YOu can take the lead, but no hostiles towards anyone unless I give the order."

 

With that, the two headed out deeper into the forest to scout where there may have been an increase in growth of population. But Gronn worried within the back of his head that it was an old Imperial officer who may be attempting to retake control over part of Mandalorain space again. Either way, such information was worth knowing first hand as Tros was establishing a new power House on Almas...

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Mishuk gotal'u meshuroke, pako kyore.

 

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The Kal-Koran Homestead was a broken thing, the outlying buildings now mostly grown over by stubby foliage, their mud brick walls caved in, and metal roof panels pockmarked with spotrust. Even seen just through two hundred times magnification the place was a graveyard. Two old hulking W-Wings sat on their launchpad, now almost completely rusted to their landing gear. The craters of old concussion missile hits from Ca’Aran’s last visit still showed as deep furrows on what should have been an aethstetic lawn. Now long overgrown and left to the animals. 

 

A perfect place to hide and ride out the storm of the coming Galactic Alliance. 

 

Tares took the shuttle in a long banking turn that settled the landing ramp towards the abandoned complex, and Delta slapped the red button beside the ramp, giving them all their first breaths of non Kamino air. It smelled faintly agricultural, as if one of the many distant farmsteads were undergoing a fertilization of one of their fields. Ca’Aran took one breath, than another, and grinned to the pack of young clones behind him. Clones of faces that had no doubt meant a great deal to who Ca’Aran had once been. To the man that had walked into darkness and had not returned. 

 

What had caused him to do such a thing? Ca’Aran did not know. The flash learning had not brought the last decade of life with it. Leaving much of who he might have been on the table, to be sought out if he wanted to. But for now he knew what his objective was. Protect these young soldiers, and build them a life. 

 

He strode down the ramp onto the follow field, the talking and chittering children behind him. 

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Ca'Aran

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Gronn and Kyr slowly made their way through the forest from one house to the location Kyr had spotted a Lambda shuttle move and land. The two slowly came upon a small hill within the forest that allowed for them to scan from afar the homestead. Getting on their bellies and began to see what they could of the area. Kyr drew out an E-17d sniper rifle to scout the area, while Gronn choose to just use his own HUD on his buy'ce. Heat signatures were present, but both were too far away to get a good count. "You have better eyes on the situation Kyr, what are you seeing?" 

 

The more eager Mandalorian kept his response held in for a second. "The trees are messing up what I'm seeing... Looks like one... maybe two adults for sure. The entire area is a mess. The entire homestead looks like it's seen better days. I feel like there may be children... but I can't get an accurate sight." Gronn let out a heavy sigh. It was typical of a certain age and breed of Mandalorians to disguise and hide their homes in such a way to make it harder to get an upper hand from others not within their realm of trust. This homestead was just that kind. Turning off the heat readings, he finally stood up. "Watch my back. I'm going to move in towards the homestead. When I get about twenty meters from it, give a harmless shot at the roof to alert them that I'm outside. That way, we can find out who is there and their purpose." 

 

Without offering up Kyr anymore details, Gronn began to walk towards the homestead through the forest area. Part of him wondered if this is how he would die. Walking up blind to a house that he knows has someone in it. Slowly and surely though, he kept his feet moving, counting steps to know just how far he was moving and watch options he had if this turned into trouble. And like clock work, about twenty meters away, a sniper shot a blast the top of the roof to warn those inside that there was someone outside. As he did, he held his hands upon his weapon. He was always ready to get into a fight if it came to it, but he also made sure that anyone who was inside the house knew that he wasn't looking for a fight, so he held the blaster low and walked slowly. 

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Mishuk gotal'u meshuroke, pako kyore.

 

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  • 3 weeks later...

Most of the teenagers were busy unloading the shuttle with the survival gear they had loaded up from the Sith Hangar. While Ca’Aran walked with Æthelflæd and Linebris around the perimeter of the mostly ruined complex. There would be a lot of repairs to be done before the building was anything more than a ruin, and a lot more to be done before it could be considered livable. But still, the bones were good, the architecture a classic from bygone era. He raised his arm and pointed towards a long line of shrubs that had crept up the side of the hill towards the estate. 

 

“Do you see how many avenues of fire that gives an attacking enemy? Best practice is to give yourself the most cover and those that might try and assault you-” 

 

Æthe let out a low whistle that cut off his advice, and he followed the line of her eyesight where he could see a figure approaching them. A local by the look of it and not unarmed. Well this was Concord Dawn afterall. Any Good Mandalorian would want to inspect new neighbours. Though there was a quiver of warning in the back of his neck as Ca’Aran wondered if the prior version of himself had met and made enemies of the locals. Only one way to check. 

 

The crack of a blaster rifle sung out from the treeline, and the two girls beside him fell into prone behind the knee high wall. Ca’Aran himself took a breath and showing bare hands and head walked towards the lone figure.

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Ca'Aran

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Gronn kept his own eyes darting as he observed and took in the full scene of what he was approaching. He was beginning to see that what they thought of the situation was not at all, nor was he even fully sure he knew what he was looking at. His HUD showed him Delta, the Blood Prince and long time war veteran. But there seemed to be children present, to which confused the Mandalorian. Still slowly walking forward, he sent Kyr the information he was now seeing and gave him the order to move into a better position, even if it meant getting spotted. 

 

"Delta, famed war vet of the galaxy and leader of the Sith forces... What brings you to Concord Dawn?" The question was an honest one, as he was certain that Tros would have known if the Sith held any interest in Concord Dawn, or if there would even be a power play on the planet. He hoped that they weren't being tracked and watched, or being setup. He kept his blaster low, but refused to put it away now. Even with children present, Delta was dangerous if he decided to act. 

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Mishuk gotal'u meshuroke, pako kyore.

 

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The name slid off the man’s tongue and the title that followed it gave Ca’Aran more information about his past self than any holonews articles could. Memory loss was an overused trope, and the holofilms were always filled with stories of force users and soldiers waking up to a life they had never lived. It was weird to be in such a story, and so Ca’Aran shrugged his shoulders and lifted his hands up in the gesture of surrender. Whatever his old self had done, and what the news stories had said, the old grizzled version of himself had done quite a bit. He would not stand to defend them.  

 

“I seek peace for myself and what remains of my family. My aliit. My Clan.” 

 

Here he injected a bit of the old mandalorian that had been flash trained into his mind so many iterations ago. A non blood related family. A clan. A people fighting for survival against a galaxy that wanted them dead. 

 

“Many lifetimes ago I had been here, and I wish to start again. A new face, a new life. You are welcome to come up and meet my clan if you wish. But if you stay for dinner we might just ask you to help repair the roof.”

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Ca'Aran

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