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Bilbringi


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Bilbringi

 

Astrographical Information

Region: Inner Rim

Sector: unknown

System: Bilbringi

Orbital Position: 1

Moons: None

Grid Coordinates: K-12

 

Physical Information

Class: Terrestrial

Atmosphere: Type 1 Breathable Oxygen Mix

Primary Terrain: Grasslands, forest

Points of Interest: Bilbringi Asteroid Belt, containing the renowned Bilbringi Shipyards.

 

Societal Information

Indigenous Species: None

Immigrated Species: Primarily Humans

Primary Language(s): Basic

Faction Affiliation: Galactic Alliance

 

Defense Rating: N/A

 

JediRP Canon History: The planet of Bilbringi is of little consequence compared to the Shipyards located in its system's asteroid belt. The Bilbringi system is located just off the Namadii Corridor, a bustling hyperlane linking them to hubs of commerce throughout the galaxy. The asteroid belt is also rich in metal ore and as such is home to a variety of mining organizations. The Shipyards traded hands several times between the New Republic and the Empire before landing in the hands of Emperor Deton immediately before the battle on the last Death Star. With the formation of the Galactic Alliance, the Bilbringi Shipyards were annexed into GA assets.

 

Old description:

Bilbringi was an inhabited planet in the Inner Rim's Bilbringi system. The system was the site of the important Bilbringi Shipyards and played a pivotal role in the Thrawn Campaign. The Bilbringi system was choked with asteroids and other debris; it lay close to several military shipment lanes. The asteroids of the star system were rich in metals and other natural resources utilised in starship construction, making it a perfect location to place the shipyards.

 

 

The Alliance gets first post.

 

 

((Summary compiled by Jaina Jade Skywalker. Thank you!))

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The monarch of madness has returned!

 

[Associate of the Illinois Mafia since March 2002.]

[2nd in Command of the Lords of Hate since March 2002.]

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Alliance personnel were shuttled in to bring the infamous Bilbringi shipyards back into the war. Every resource was necessary, and since the Alliance didn't have its own shipyard, Bilbringi had been recruited. It was the site of many famous battles of old, and it was a fine shipyard.

 

It received a pre-production notice right away. A new galactic government was soon to rise, and a certain vessel was going to be built to serve as its mobile capitol. It was a "capitol ship", amusingly enough.

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There is nothing good in war. There is good in why we fight them.

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  • 3 weeks later...
  • 1 month later...

The superweapon having rolled out of the docks some time ago, a masterpiece of a weapon, the new Republic capitol ship had been under construction. With a full schedule of working on it, the thing was completed in short order.

 

It was a monster of a ship, the sort that was made to be able to withstand quite a beating to protect the galactic government that would be stationed therein. More importantly, it had stealth systems and extreme mobility so that standing a fighting wouldn't necessarily be without alternatives.

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There is nothing good in war. There is good in why we fight them.

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  • 3 weeks later...

Two titans of steel laid dormant outside the famous shipyards at Bilbringi. One was the ultimate weapon of the Republic, a vessel capable of wasting entire worlds in a matter of minutes””though it had been designed so that atrocity would not be necessary””or literally ”œdusting”

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((I've posted almost complete details of the Aequitas in the ship registration database. This place will get its own thread when it leaves the planet.))

 

Well, that had certainly been an illuminating flight, and that choice of words was entirely deliberate. No sooner than after I demanded the identity of my escort, three more sentients unveiled their Force Presences and deactivated a sort of holographic camouflage that had previously allowed their armor to blend in with the bulkheads. In order of appearance, they were a young woman with vividly red hair that couldn't seem to take her eyes off of Mother's friend, a Barabel that sank low in a bow to me, and a Gotal who said nothing, but offered me his assault rifle for my inspection.

 

This appeared to have some ceremonial significance to them, so I took my time, quickly coming to the conclusion that this streamlined weapon had been made individually. Apparently by a masterful armorer””himself, judging from his faint sense of pride when snapped the stock of the rifle against my shoulder and sighted in with a smile on my face.

 

Mother's friend was none other than the former bounty hunter, former Rebel Renn Hamis, a man that had once Hunted for the Empire”¦ and Hunted me just prior to the destruction of my homeworld. Small wonder he had seemed terrified at the prospect of meeting me again, though Mom assured me that he had mended his way”¦ Mended them, that is, after a series of tragedies reduced him to something of a drunkard until my mother found him, convinced him to sober up, and offered to teach him a thing or twenty about the Force. That clearly included some of Mom's talent for stealth, who promptly told me that her order specialized in a sort of Force Meld that made such things a bit more simple.

 

It was only with considerable probing that I managed to convince my mother to talk about this until-now unmentioned sect.

 

It was called Illumination, and had existed since the time of Exar Kun and what some called the Jedi Civil Wars, when fighting between Jedi- and Sith- (or at least Dark Jedi) led factions had devastated the galaxy. The exact date was unrecorded, and the names of its founders had been eroded from memory by time, but a number of Jedi, in the trend of assassinations that followed the defeat of Malak and the Star Forge, had utilized the atmosphere of panic to quietly disappear from the Jedi Order, assume new identities, and live ordinary lives while teaching the occasional pupil how to use the Force. Its goals were simple enough: to locate ignored Force Sensitives and simply teach them about the Force in a way that would allow them to develop their gifts and live an ordinary life, away from the dogma and fighting of the Sith and Jedi. There were thousands, probably tens of thousands of people who had been taught like this and passed on their talents to their children, but men and women who actually acted as Illumination's operatives--spies, dedicated teachers, and”¦ warriors? Perhaps a few hundred, though my mother din't know the real number and had no desire to learn.

 

They preferred to remain hidden, save for those few occasions they felt the need to intervene discreetly in galactic events. Apparently I was one of the extraordinary individuals that merited closer observation and the protection of an entire team of Bonded operatives. Hence the armored men and guns. They must have been tremendously disappointed to find that this Republic was being founded with only minimal help from me, or the Jedi Order.

 

Mom had been typically vague about her role in its foundation, however, preferring to describe it as ”œgiving a few people the wisdom to see what was necessary, and the courage to do it”

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The mottled tunnel of hyperspace became starlines and those collapsed into a multitude of tiny points of light that signified the suns of many systems many billions of klicks away. Admiral Starlisk's shuttle dropped out of hyperspace, a classic three-wing design that, a couple hundred years earlier, had been a sign of the Empire.

 

He immediately took in the sights of Bilbringi as seen from space, for, though he had ordered the takeover and use of the shipyards here, he had never been here in person. He was closing on the shipyards so, quite naturally, what began to dominate his view were the two massive starships whose construction he had ordered.

 

One was super-powered offensively, the other defensively. But they were both colossal, significant in the metanarrative of the galaxy, and the products of the finest engineers available. Onderin had high hopes for both, but fervently knew that he would have to be careful with the superweapon to keep it longer-lived than the Death Star that was destroyed over Ilum.

 

For the moment, he let himself be awed by it. If he did not fear it, he would misuse it. He knew the numbers, but now he witnessed its completion.

 

By this time he was drawing very close to the shipyards and the ships around it, and he felt the familiar presence of Armiena Darkfire, who had asked to see him aboard the capitol ship, the Aequitas. He hailed the cruiser and landed, then made his way through the polished, professional hallways towards his destination. The ship was massive. It would take a day to walk from one end to the other.

 

The Force guided him to an area designed after a garden on Naboo, a place Onderin had had the chance to visit. And there she was--Armiena Darkfire. With a slight smile behind his goatee, the Jedi Master strode up to her and bowed as a Jedi to another, then sat down. "This is quite a place, isn't it?"

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There is nothing good in war. There is good in why we fight them.

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Onderin's eyes traced towards Armiena's protruding stomach once or twice, but no more than a slight twitch of his lip betrayed the satisfaction of his curiosity. Ah. Makes sense. He stood so close now to a pregant Jedi that they almost touched, and already he could feel the vibrant child in the Force that yet inhabited her womb. It was near birth indeed. He was actually slightly curious as to why she had resurfaced now, when waiting a little longer would have saved her some trouble.

 

He listened to her talk, then nodded understandingly. "I would never doubt your loyalties, Master," he said, still struggling with what he should call her. He had married her to Aryian, so he figured he could probably just use her first name. But she had called him Admiral, so Master would do. "I understand that the Empire these days takes care of its citizens, apart from the occaisonal demonstrational slaughter." He appeared visibly relieved. "Is that why you wanted to see me?"

 

He had been worried she wanted to talk about something galactically significant. Or that she wanted to share her views of the war with him and tell him what he was doing wrong. Which was actually not all that bad--it helped the Admiral to hear the opinion of another Jedi now and again. Like seeing the superweapon for himself, it was something to keep him morally responsible. This was a war of morality more than anything.

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There is nothing good in war. There is good in why we fight them.

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Onderin smiled. "I should say so," he said. "They get transferred here and immediately find themselves working with the head of the Jedi Order!"

 

Well, he was glad he had come, even though the principle matter was something he would have thought to be understood. She had been right--it was good to let him know what was going on. But now for a moment he stood there awkwardly, not quite sure what to do next. He was glad to be here, taking a break from his duties, so he didn't really want to leave. But he wasn't sure if he should just walk off, either. So he stayed.

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There is nothing good in war. There is good in why we fight them.

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It only took minutes for the Blur to be cleared to land on the behemoth vessel, something about express clearance granted by the grandmaster, not to mention a docking spot right next to the Ghost Breath. The twin ships were certainly impressive, but at this point in time, Aryian didn't feel the urge to be impressed with them, or really even notice. Something else was on his mind, something that banged on his skull like a tiny wild banshee with a jackhammer, yet less painful.

 

He jogged down the entry ramp before it had even touched the cool metal floor of the hangar, not paying attention to anyone or anything in his path as he just kept running. He didn't even realize his own subconscious draw upon the Force to aid him as he ran, white robe fluttering behind him as what seemed like forever passed. And then the tram, and then more running, the ship blurred in front of his eyes as if it weren't even there. And before he knew it, he was there, standing in front of her, not five meters away. It took a moment for the words to find their way to his mouth as he simply stared at her. It wasn't the first time such a thing had happened, but likely it might be the last.

 

"He's coming, isn't he."

 

Another full moment passed before he even realized Onderin's presence, at which point the realization also hit that he knew, the very thing he wished to speak to him about. He moved a tad closer, using the same audial cover his wife had as he moved to her side, looking into her eyes briefly and brushing a strand of hair from her face before addressing his friend.

 

"Well Admiral...I was hoping to tell you myself, prevent misunderstanding, but I see you already know. Do realize that it doesn't mean I have defected from either cause, I just wish to remain neutral in the wars. The Republic and the Jedi know me...know my reputation, as do you. I anticipate no trouble with them in these conditions either, which is why I made the choice I did. I do refuse, however, to contribute to the war effort of either side. I love my wife - and my child - very much, and I can't afford to make new enemies that will stop at nothing to kill them. From, well, either side. You understand."

 

The last statement was obviously referencing rebel Jedi they had experienced in the past, such as Hou-Jo and one or two others, but the chance was still there. Once he was certain he had said all he needed to, he turned his attention back to Armiena.

 

"And you, how are you feeling? How is he? Oh lord, this has me nervous..."

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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Somewhere, I thought I heard a tiny, plaintive scream. I instinctively monitored the Force for a sensation of distress and scanned the verdant surroundings for a sign of trouble, but oddly enough, found nothing with my eyes or other senses. When I felt my husband's presence so close, however, I had cause to wonder if it had been issued from the mouth of the laws of physics. How he had gotten here so quickly, I would always wonder. Perhaps the Force was crazy.

 

Regardless of the foolish choices he had recently made, I was glad to see him, speeches and all. If Aryian hadn't come in time to help me through labor”¦ but that was an unpleasant thought that was not to be dwelled upon.

 

”œHe's fine; I'm fine; We've got a few billion years worth of evolution and several thousand years of decent medicine on our side. You worry about your hands””I might need something to hold onto.”

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Onderin watched the trio leave. The Grandmaster, her husband, and her mother. He slowly shook his head. Who would have thought?

 

Anyway, Armiena was right. He had been making plans with the Empire already to begin an assault on Centerpoint station. They could worry about Pestilens later, but he figured if they took out Centerpoint, the Arach'tar would flee before trying to hold out on their last foothold in the known galaxy.

 

Then again, they were rather stubborn.

 

At any rate, he was simply awaiting a signal from the Emperor to begin final preparations, so he could afford to linger here a little longer.

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There is nothing good in war. There is good in why we fight them.

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A message arrives for Admiral Starlisk.

 

Master,

 

This message is technically for the Grandmaster, her husband, or her mother, but I've been informed that they are all currently unavailable. Please pass on this message if you see them, otherwise feel free to take any action you deem necessary.

 

Masters Ara-Lai Kaipi, Skye Organa, and I--along with several other Jedi--have recently come in contact with Vladimir Faust. He is critically injured and is at the moment undergoing surgery by Master Organa. We will keep him in custody until a trial can be arranged for his crimes.

 

You may contact me on the following frequency if you need more information.

 

May the Force be with you.

 

Master Trevelian

 

Attached is a frequency number for Darex's personal comlink.

 

End communication.

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Grand Master of the Jedi Order

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Onderin got the message with raised eyebrows. Vladimir Faust, to stand trial for his crimes? His crimes, which were so numerous and heinous that no criminal in the history of the galaxy could hold a candle to their level of sinister achievement? Interesting indeed. Onderin wondered for a moment how Faust had been captured--obviously he was in surgery, but it was curious that it was the Jedi who were performing it.

 

Although he didn't fully know the circumstances, he would not cast shadow on a blessing. Faust was notorious, and had forever evaded trial for his crimes. The result of such a thing would almost certainly be death, or the most years of imprisonment ever sentenced. The problem that Onderin could already see was that Faust was almost impossible to kill or imprison. But he would worry about the details later.

 

Darex was right--even if the Alliance or Republic held the trial, the Jedi would need to know...and play a significant role in the proceedings as keepers of justice in the galaxy.

 

Hoping he wouldn't interrupt anything, Onderin went in search of Aryian.

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There is nothing good in war. There is good in why we fight them.

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And then, life rushed at Aryian. Suddenly an intense wave of the Force washed over him as he could feel the life of an infant struggling, yearning to be let free from its confines. He never heard the muffled voices around him, movement of all save his wife dissolved to a blur as he was at her side, helping to carry her, knowing more than sensing that a medical team was on its way. Soon she was on a stretcher being rushed through crowded hallways, and it took him a moment when two doctors were holding him back to realize he needed to be sterilized before moving onward with his wife.

 

An eternty passed as he waited in a decontamination area, until the doors open and moments later he was once again by her side, holding her arms and staring into her eyes.

 

I love you...so...so much, Armiena. Why did the gods bless such an unworthy man with such a beautiful wife...with a son? Why is this my burden to bear, instead of someone else far more deserving? You are my blessing...I swear never to be your curse...

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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It was fairly obvious where Aryian had to be. All Onderin had to do was search for the occasional spasms of pain in the Force, the frustration and impatience, and he would have found Armiena”¦ and Aryian was sure to be nearby””if he wasn't, his wife would have had his head.

 

However, Onderin didn't find Aryian. Misal found the Admiral first. She stepped out barely seconds before the doctors began to clear him for sanitation prior to entering the medical bay. The Miraluka appeared somewhat put out at having to abandon her heavy robe for a neutral-blue hospital gown and her leather gloves for ones of the disposable variety (they let her keep her silver-adorned veil, understanding that she would have been quite irate if she had to surrender that garment).

 

There wasn't a hint of violence in her intentions as she approached him. Just frustration.

 

”œYou go in there, and I get violent.”

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Onderin nodded with a slight smile. "It can wait...but not long," he said. "Some Jedi have captured Vladimir Faust. They want to arrange for him to stand Trial."

 

Misal Draygo...every bit as defiant and physical as her daughter. Onderin had received as many bumps and bruises from the two of them as all the Dark Lords of the Sith combined.

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There is nothing good in war. There is good in why we fight them.

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As she spoke, tears welled up in his eyes. Words could not describe the raw unbridled emotion he was experiencing right now, the gut-wrenching agony of truth and the dispassionate sting of regret.

 

"No more, Armiena. I'm done with what I've had to do. No matter what comes at us now, come hell or high water, I'll always be there, I will always be at your side. You have no idea how badly I wanted to spend every moment with you, and I ached every time I left. But...our future is secured. We won't have to worry about anything anymore. Just you, me, Aidan, the galaxy, and our lives."

 

He was the one squeezing her hand now, unintentionally, but he couldn't help it. Aryian had to be strong for her now, a different kind of strong than he was used to. And though it was tearing him up, emotionally, he was simply a masterpiece still in the forge of life.

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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My mother wandered in, appearing even more serious than usual””wearing an almost mournful expression, when yet another contraction hit me and inspired me to crush Aryian's knuckles again. When it passed, I lifted my head to see the doctor offer me a thumbs-up and a smile. Very nearly ready, I took that to mean, but my mother's anxiety was only growing.

 

”œWhat is it, Mom?”

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This was it. Aryian was a father. After all this time waiting, after living the majority of his life on the front lines, he never felt as alive as he did when he saw Aidan. It was as if Atlas shrugged, the galaxy hiccuped for a moment, time stuttered as the full realization hit him dead on in the chest like Kakuto's war hammer.

 

"He has his mother's eyes. We did it, Armiena. We did it."

 

Though the man was nearly laughing, tears fell from his eyes like a soft shower of joy. This was his son. This was Aidan.

 

Misal walked in about then, a genuine look of awe and happiness on her face as she beheld her grandchild. The doctors did their work, the rest was done, and before long they found themselves in one of the care rooms, a fresh baby boy resting on Armiena's chest, Aryian's finger locked in a deathgrip in the tiny hands. Aryian smirked at Misal's comment, looking back over to her.

 

"Help out with diapers and you can do all the spoiling you want."

 

The evil grin spread across his face like wildfire, not that he could help it. It would be incredibly amusing to him, but for her...maybe not so much.

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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((I know I'm absent, but I can throw a quick post in.))

 

Receiving a comm from Gala, Onderin realized that much was happening, and standing around on the Aequitas wasn't necessarily the best thing for him to be doing. Faust could be brought to Gala, and he would need to be there, too. He sent Darex a quick comm explaining the circumstances, then headed out to the hangar.

 

Soon, the Admiral disappeared from the scene.

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There is nothing good in war. There is good in why we fight them.

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I glanced up from the ultimate showdown between Aidan and his father to raise a challenging eyebrow at Aryian's statement. My mother just stood in front of him for a second, her arms crossed in the sleeves of her customary grey-black robe (I knew her previous relief hadn't been entirely caused by the end of labor), regarding Aryian coolly. After an uncomfortable silence that even Aidan seemed to sense, she smiled tolerantly at her son-in-law.

 

”œOh, I don't know about that. It's going to be Armiena's right to delegate those unpleasant jobs. Who knows what we'll be doing”¦”

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"You're darned right."

 

Their lips met gently, emotions flowing between them as Aryian let his wife drift off to sweet slumber. He walked away a few steps, his eyes never leaving her.

 

What now, Misal? Have you some unforeseen insight the rest of us have missed? Your daughter has just given birth to your grandchild...my son. Perhaps the galaxy will hold more hope for them than contempt. But only the gods would know that.

 

He turned and left her in the hospital room, seeking out a nurse to get him a bedchair so he could sleep in the same room as Armiena's. After little effort, he was softly drifting to sleep as well.

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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  • 3 weeks later...

The next few days proved to be interesting, and arguably the most fun that I'd ever had. Period. Aryian was around; Aidan was positively adorable, though I was surprised to see that he spent most of his days in a state of sound sleep or close to dozing off. That wasn't to say he was completely inactive””within two days he'd managed to charm the entirety of the adoring hospital staff, often forcing me to shoo away the love-struck young nurses on the occasions that I could sense a mild tantrum brewing over his simple needs.

 

And when he was out for a few hours, I quite foolishly chose not to seize the opportunity to sleep, instead spending my time in training. Not physical training, for Dr. Notsil had warned me adamantly about overexerting myself before I recovered completely. Healing trances were repairing the weakened muscles at an astounding rate, but I focused on the intense study of esoteric techniques to manipulate machines.

 

I once excused myself from my husband so I could put my theories to practice. During the next few hours, I succeeded in creating a massive breach in the overwatch of the ship's security forces. Gradually making my way to their command center, I flash-blinded holocams by overloading their optical receptors, rendered infrared sensors useless as I passed them, and simply walked through laser tripwires without setting off alarms. Cruder mechanisms like blast doors were no match for me. I simply sparked a brief electric current, and”¦ open sesame.

 

I would have made it to their headquarters and barracks, if it weren't for a quiet voice that interrupted my study of a more difficult retinal scan-based lock. There had been no warning, not even a half-second's worth from the Force.

 

”œMaster Darkfire,”

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