Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Public Korriban : Rituals of a Queen?

Once a Jedi Knight of great promise, Zori Galea became disillusioned with the Order's rigid dogma. During a mission to an ancient Sith tomb, she was ensnared by whispers of forgotten knowledge. The Jedi sought to purge her of the corruption, but she fled—determined to seek the truth on her own terms.

On Korriban, she stumbled upon a sect of outcasts—former Sith Acolytes, scavengers, and war-torn remnants whom had been cast aside. Desperate for purpose, they believed her to be the reincarnation of an ancient Sith Empress, one who wielded sorcery powerful enough to warp reality. Zori, seeing an opportunity, embraced the role, fusing truth and deception into a new legend.
 
Zori Galea had known suffering, but Korriban had taught her a new meaning of survival. When she had first arrived, she was not the Rising Queen—she was just another castoff, abandoned by the one person who had shaped her path. Lord Baricon Zolfran, the Sith Lord who had plucked her from the ruins of her Jedi life, had promised to mold her into something greater. He whispered of power beyond the chains of the Sith, of a new empire that would bow before them. Yet, when the time came, he had betrayed her. Left her to rot on Korriban after the events on Salteract as a test—or perhaps as punishment for the potential he now feared. He couldn't let her stay there. Instead, he saw this as an act of MERCY.

The tomb world was cruel to the forsaken. She had spent weeks scavenging the remnants of Sith ruins, fending off desperate acolytes, ravenous tuk'ata, and the gnawing madness that came from isolation. But she had refused to die. The whispers in the dark guided her, led her to places unseen. And when she found the first of the outcasts—the broken warriors, the forgotten disciples—she wove herself into their myths.

Now, deep within the cavern that pulsed with unnatural energy, she was no longer just a survivor. She was a force of fate.

The creatures before her—tall, multi-limbed, their exoskeletons etched with arcane patterns—spoke in a clicking, guttural tongue. They watched her with wide, golden eyes, their reverence palpable. Through the Force, their intent bled into her mind—The Chosen One… the Empress Returned… the Sorceress of the Void.

Zori studied them, arms crossed, her tattered cloak billowing from the faint breeze whispering through the tunnels. "You know who I am," she said, testing the power of her own voice here.
 
One of the creatures—marked with a crest of bone-like ridges along its skull—stepped forward, kneeling. It held out an obsidian shard, pulsating with a sickly, greenish glow. She could feel the power within it, ancient and expectant.

Another figure gestured to the cave walls, where spiraling glyphs flickered with bioluminescent light. The markings told a story—of a being who would rise from ruin, wielding the sorcery of the ancients to shatter the cycle of Sith and Jedi alike. The deeper she looked, the more the echoes of prophecy entwined with the legend she had crafted for herself.

Was it all manipulation? Coincidence? Or had she truly been drawn here by forces beyond even her understanding?
 
She took the obsidian shard between her fingers, feeling its cold pulse beneath her skin. A smirk tugged at the edge of her lips.


"Then show me," she commanded.


The cavern trembled. Dust and loose stones rained from above as a distant, inhuman wail reverberated through the tunnels. The creatures hissed in excitement, their mandibles clicking feverishly. Whatever power slumbered here had stirred—and Zori intended to claim it.
 
The cavern rumbled like a living thing, responding to Zori's presence. The obsidian shard in her grip burned cold, sending an eerie pulse up her arm. The alien creatures—her newfound worshippers—began chanting in their strange, clicking language, their golden eyes reflecting the flickering bioluminescent glyphs around them.

Zori narrowed her gaze, pushing her will into the shard. The power within it was unfamiliar yet intoxicating, like a whisper from something vast and ancient. She had spent years manipulating others, bending their beliefs to serve her rise. But now, standing at the precipice of something beyond her own understanding, she questioned—who was truly in control?

A gust of force erupted from the walls, nearly knocking her back. Dust and debris swirled in the air as the glyphs pulsed brighter. The creatures backed away, their reverence shifting into cautious anticipation.

Then, from the depths of the cavern, something moved.

Suddenly, without caution, a black mass erupted through the glyphs, growing massive in size. As thin as smoke and as commanding as the glyphs themselves. It pulled Zori towards it as what appeared to be flashes of lightning emitted from its core. (This is it) Zori said to herself with anticipation and fear.
 
A voice—deep, hollow, and laced with centuries of slumber—slithered into Zori's mind and every opening possible as if it was searching her soul


*"You bear the mark… yet you are not her."


Zori clenched her jaw, her fingers tightening around the shard. The being's presence was suffocating, but she had survived worse. "Then tell me who she is," she demanded.


A pause. Then, the entity's form swirled, tendrils of darkness curling toward her. The voice came again, this time almost amused.


"You do not know? How bold to claim a throne you do not understand."


Zori's pulse quickened, but she forced herself to remain still. The alien worshippers had called her the reincarnation of an Empress. A legend she had adopted for her own gain. But what if it was more than myth? What if she was playing a role predestined for something far greater?


Or worse—something she could not control?


The entity loomed closer. The alien creatures chanted louder, their voices blending into the growing hum of power filling the chamber.


"You seek power, child of betrayal. Then claim it—if you dare."


The cavern floor split open beneath her. A vortex of red and black energy surged upward, pulling at her very essence. Zori gritted her teeth, standing firm against the onslaught. Whatever this was, it was consuming her whole.....
 
A FEW MONTHS LATER.....

CURRENT DAY



Sons and daughters of Korriban…

Heirs of the forgotten truth…

I am
Zori Galea. I am not your past—I am your future.”



0_1_640_N.webp
 
She steps forward, her eyes glowing faintly with crimson fire, the dark wind of the tomb-world howling through the Auditorium’s open doorways. “You were taught to serve the darkness… to embrace rage, domination, power. But always as a reaction to the ‘light.’ Always defined by what you oppose. That ends today.

I have seen what lies beyond the illusion. Beyond the old code. The Jedi chained themselves to morality. The Sith, to vengeance. Both are prisoners of a lie… the lie of duality. Light versus dark. Good versus evil. Peace versus passion. These are the bars of your cage.

She raises her gloved hand, revealing a glowing holocron, pulsing with energy older than the Sith Empire itself.

This… is the source. The secret the ancients buried in fear. The truth that breaks the cycle. The Force is not divided. It is one. Not light. Not dark. But infinite. And I… I have learned to shape it.

No more Jedi. No more Sith. No more morality… only will.

You look upon the end of the old galaxy. And the rise of something greater.

I am the convergence. The final truth. I am the Sovereign Flame. The last Queen of Korriban.

Follow me—and be reborn.
 
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KORRIBAN – NIGHT


A blood-red storm rages outside. A temple, that now serves as Zori's base of operations is lit only by torches and the eerie glow of ancient holocrons. Hundreds of robed figures—acolytes, fallen Jedi, Sith remnants—kneel before a towering obsidian dais.


Her face is shadowed by a crown of jagged iron. Her voice cuts through the silence like a blade.​



"The Jedi feared their emotions. The Sith fed upon them. But I… I have devoured mine. And in doing so, I have become whole."

She raises the Prime Holocron, suspended in the air, spinning with ancient glyphs glowing violet.​


"You worshipped the Force as a god. But it is not a god. It is a mirror. And I have shattered it."

A pulse of energy blasts from the holocron—some acolytes collapse in awe. Others tremble, eyes wide with revelation.​


"There will be no council. No empire. No rebellion. Only the Flame and those strong enough to carry it."

Her black lightsaber ignites—silent, not with the usual hum, but a deep resonant thrum likee the pulse of a dying star.​
 
softly addressing her gathered acolytes with a stern, unscathed monotone​

"I will burn down the false dichotomy. The galaxy will no longer speak of heroes or villains. Only survivors."
 
0_0_640_N.webp


Lightning arcs overhead
"This is the age of will. The age of truth."

The crowd rises in unison, chanting her name—low and rhythmic.
 
MOUNTAIN SPRING SANCTUM – NIGHT​

The red storm has passed. In the shadow of jagged basalt cliffs, steam coils upward from a series of ancient hot springs nestled into the rock. The air is still—ominous and reverent. Obsidian statues of forgotten Sith lords line the perimeter, their stone eyes long since worn smooth by time and sulfur.

ZORI GALEA sits in the center of the largest spring, her black robes stripped to ceremonial underlayers. Her skin, faintly luminescent from the mineral-rich waters, bears intricate Sith runes etched in crimson ink across her arms and back.

Her eyes are closed. Her breathing slow. The Force is quiet here—yet impossibly dense. It doesn’t flow around her. It waits.

This is not peace. This is sovereignty.

She lowers herself deeper into the spring, the water hissing softly against the heat of her skin. Her lips part in a whisper:

(softly, to the Force)

"Show me the veil. And let me tear it."


Suddenly she has a vision.......

Darkness blooms. Stars swirl like dying embers. She stands on a battlefield of fire and glass. At her feet, the broken hilts of Jedi and Sith alike.

Behind her, a figure forms—robed in white. No face. No voice. Pure light.


You are the fracture. The wound in the Force.

Zori’s hands tremble. Her eyes open in the vision—black voids. She screams aloud,

I am not the wound!!!!! I am the blade that made it!!!!!

She strikes forward—

Her eyes snap open. Steam bursts around her as the water vibrates with a pulse of raw Force. Small stones nearby tremble, levitate, and drop.

Silence follows. She breathes.

(quietly, to herself)

Even the Force cannot resist clarity forever
 
A shadow emerges from the steam—VALEK, her most loyal warrior, armored and silent.​

VALEK : They await your next command, my Queen.



ZORI stands slowly, the water cascading off her like liquid obsidian. She does not look at him.​


Let them wait.........The galaxy will come to me.


She steps out of the spring, each footstep deliberate. her silhouette shines beautifully, terrifyingly and with absolution​
 
KORRIBAN – TEMPLE ENTRANCE – DUSK


The sky is streaked with ash and dying light. The Temple of the Sovereign Flame rises like a jagged fang from the blood-red sands. At its base, a lone JEDI STARFIGHTER rests, half-covered in dust.

A cloaked figure disembarks. Calm, precise. JEDI MASTER ELIAN MARETH, emissary of the High Council, steps forward—his robe faded by many wars, his presence serene but alert.
 
TEMPLE OF THE SOVEREIGN FLAME – GRAND HALL – NIGHT
The interior hums with low chants from Zori’s disciples—acolytes flanking the path, heads bowed. Massive banners ripple overhead, bearing the sigil of Zori’s reign: a flame encircled by broken chains.

At the far end, ZORI GALEA waits atop the dais. Clad in obsidian armor with crimson trim, her expression is unreadable. Her lightsaber hilt rests beside her throne, untouched… for now.
 
"I’m not here to fight. I’m here to understand. What you’re building… they say it’s a cult. That you’re poisoning Force sensitives with dangerous ideas."
 
(leaning forward upon her throne built by her followers)

"IS THAT WHAT THEY SAY? Ideas are only dangerous to those whose power depends on lies."

She rises slowly from her throne, her voice calm but carrying weight.

"You came to stop a heresy, Jedi. But this isn’t heresy. It’s evolution."
 

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