Basic Information:

• Name:  Kleya Noxstarr

• Alias:  None

• Species:  Human

• Gender:  Female

• Age:  32

Affiliation & Status:

• Affiliation:  Jedi Order, Galactic Republic

• Title:  Diplomatic Peacemaker

• Rank:  Jedi Master

• Force Sensitive:  Yes

• Age:  32

Origin & Residence:

• Homeworld:  Coruscant

• Current Residence:  Tython

Physical Stats:

• Height:  1.73 meters (5’8”)

• Weight:  59 kg (130 lbs)

• Build/Body Type:  Slender, graceful

• Eye Color: Storm-grey with subtle hints of blue

• Hair Color:  Deep chestnut brown, often braided simply for practicality

• Skin Color:  Fair
  
  

Distinctive Features:

• Distinctive Characteristics:  Walks with fluid grace, always seems “anchored”, voice has calm resonance that stills a room

• Scars/Tattoos/Markings:  Faint scar on palm from shielding an explosion (Jedi Temple, 24 ATC)

• Other Notable Features:  Loth-cat named Sandy often seen near her quarters

Personality Profile:

• Openness to Experience:  Very High (scholarly, endlessly curious)

• Conscientiousness:  Extremely High (methodical, meticulous in protocol)

• Extroversion:  Low (gentle, introspective, connects deeply but selectively)

• Agreeableness: Very High (diplomatic, empathetic)

• Neuroticism:  Low (extremely composed)
  
  

Additional Traits:

• Strengths:  Master diplomat and archivistEmpathic resonance and presence that calms others, deep intuition for hidden motives and unspoken tension

• Flaws:  Can delay decisions due to over-analysis, tends to internalize emotional wounds

• Likes:  Peace talks, ancient holos, her sister’s terrible war jokes, tea with silent company

• Dislikes:  Loud arrogance, showboating, forgotten histories

• Disposition:  Warm, quiet, contemplative—like a flame that doesn’t flicker

Command Structure:

• Superior:  Jedi Council

• Subordinates:  Padawan Taren Solari
  
  

Personal Connections:

• Significant Other:  None

• Notable Friends:  Master Brianna Arindon (mentor, deceased), diplomatic liaison Rynn Asel

• Pets/Companions:  Sandy the loth-cat
  
  

Family:

• Mother:  Lira Noxstarr (alive, on Coruscant)

• Father:  Daren Noxstarr (alive, often jokes about her joining politics)

• Siblings:  Amara Noxstarr (twin sister – fellow Jedi Master and closest confidant)

Skills & Abilities:

• Signature Abilities/Force Powers:  Advanced Force empathy and barrier projection, master of deep telepathic linking

• Combat Specialties:  Non-combative defense, Force-based protective techniques

• Languages Spoken:  Galactic Basic, High Galactic, Old Sith (reading), Huttese, binary

• Notable Achievements:  De-escalated Ziost relic conflict, saving summit , rescued Jedi Archives during Temple assault, architect of Odessen diplomatic framework

• Other Skills:  Archival restoration, field diplomacy, multi-species negotiation

Equipment & Gear:

• Primary Weapon(s):  Lightsaber rarely used; green blade, elegant hilt

• Notable Equipment/Gear:  Jedi datapad encoded with centuries of diplomatic textsLight-reinforced diplomatic robes with calming inscriptions

• Armor/Outfit:  Scholar-consular robes (deep brown with gold trim)

• Personal Items: A crystal holobook gifted by Arindon, family tree recovered on Balmorra

• Mount/Vehicle:  Light personal skimmer (“Windsong”), low profile

Roleplay Hooks:

• Quirks & Habits:  Records reflections into holologs every evening, rubs thumb against her temple when deep in thought

• Rumors & Reputation:  Known as the Jedi who "calmed the Archives", revered among consular circles as a future Grandmaster candidate

• Open Connections:  A rival diplomat who believes she undercuts realpolitik, a youngling she once saved who seeks her mentorship,  a secret Order faction hoping she’ll push for Jedi neutrality

Story Seeds:

• Current Goals:  Secure and codify post-Zakuul Force-user ethics in politics

• Hidden Agendas or Secrets:  Fears Amara will be forced into war again and she won’t be able to stop it

• Fears/Weaknesses:  Failing to act in time; being dismissed as passive when lives are at stake

• Story Arcs:  Potential confrontation with aggressive Jedi reformists, mentoring Taren through a betrayal or loss of faith

• Background:  
  
  

Born in the mid-level towers of Coruscant alongside her twin sister Amara, Kleya Noxstarr was raised on quiet resilience, civic empathy, and the belief that strength could come through stillness. After surviving a reactor fire in the Works, her calm amid crisis drew the attention of Jedi rescuers, setting her on a path defined not by combat, but by insight. Under Master Brianna Arindon, Kleya embraced diplomacy, archival study, and the subtler flows of the Force, choosing presence over power. As war swept the galaxy, she became a steady light in turbulent times—resolving conflicts others feared, guiding her Padawan through disillusionment, and safeguarding both memory and peace. Elevated to Jedi Master for her efforts on Ziost and Odessen, Kleya’s legacy lies not in battlefield triumphs, but in the quiet strength she offered when others wavered. Through it all, her bond with Amara remained her anchor—proof that peace, like the Force, must be chosen with purpose. 

• Timeline/Chronology:

  • 3658 BBY | 5 BTC | Age 0 | Born on Coruscant alongside twin sister, Amara

  • 3640 BBY | 13 ATC | Age 18 | Discovered by the Jedi after the Works reactor disaster; begins training on Tython under Master Brianna Arindon

  • 3638 BBY | 15 ATC | Age 20 | Becomes Padawan; prevents cult attack in Coruscant’s underlevels through diplomacy

  • 3632 BBY | 21 ATC | Age 26 | Coordinates evacuation efforts on Taris during crisis; gains recognition for calm leadership

  • 3630 BBY | 23 ATC | Age 28 | Knighted; takes Taren Solari as Padawan; peacefully resolves holocron breach

  • 3629 BBY | 24 ATC | Age 29 | Defends Jedi Archives during Zakuulan siege; protects Initiates with Force barriers

  • 3627 BBY | 26 ATC | Age 31 | Becomes Jedi Master; mediates Jedi–Sith summit on Ziost, shaping policy on Force-user neutrality

  • 3626 BBY | 27 ATC | Age 32 | Represents Jedi at Odessen Summit; stabilizes negotiations and mentors rising leaders

Roleplayer Info:

• Contact Preference:  In-game (Kleya Noxstarr - Pub Side)

• Timezone:  EST (UTC-5)

• Activity & Availability:  Weekdays (afternoon) & weekends (during day)
  
  

Roleplay Preference & Boundaries:

• Roleplay Style:  Prefer 1:1 or small group roleplay, mostly in-game.

• Triggers & Boundaries:  No god mode.

• Plotting & Collaboration:  Open to long-term plots but prefer things to develop more on the fly/spontaneously. 

• Other Notes:  Preferred session length: 1–3 hours.

🟥 Episode I – Whispers in Stillness
3643 BBY | Age 10 | Galactic Cold War | Tython, Temple Archives & Meditation Circles | Jedi Initiate

🪐 Galactic Context:

With the galaxy held in the delicate grip of the Treaty of Coruscant, the Jedi Order returns to Tython—its birthplace—where ruins have become sanctuaries once more. While the war simmers in distant sectors, here the Order begins anew, shaping its youngest with ancient wisdom and silent discipline. It is not a battlefield, but a proving ground—where restraint speaks louder than valor, and stillness becomes strength.

📘 Narrative:

✧ Kleya Noxstarr had never feared quiet. Born in Coruscant’s mid-rise levels, she’d grown up listening not to noise, but to the spaces between it—the hum of generators, the silence after sirens. Her mother, a district healer, used to say, “The city tells you everything, if you listen carefully enough.” Kleya listened—to sublevels groaning beneath traffic, to people’s emotions slipping through formal words, to the hush in her father’s breath when he carried too much weight. So when the Jedi took her and her sister Amara to Tython, it felt like she’d stepped into the echo of something ancient and familiar. The wind here spoke without voice. The stone temples didn’t shout—they waited. She adjusted easily: early meditations, silent meals, unspoken expectations. While Amara sparred and ran forest trails, Kleya sat cross-legged beneath archive alcoves, tracing her fingers along forgotten glyphs. She didn’t envy her sister’s fire. But she wondered if silence could ever leave a mark.

✧ The attack came during a breath. The meditation circle had been still—younglings kneeling, minds reaching toward the Force—when a vine cat burst from the underbrush, all muscle and claw and fury. Screams cracked the calm. Amara moved like lightning, her blade lit before her feet hit the grass, shielding a smaller initiate with every ounce of courage she’d always carried. Kleya didn’t rise. Not from fear—but from certainty. She reached inward, grounding herself like roots in the soil, and let her voice rise—not loud, but clear: a stabilizing mantra woven from memory and the Code. Around her, Initiates stilled. One gripped her sleeve, sobbing, and Kleya gently pressed her hand over theirs. She felt the fear—and stayed. Masters arrived moments later, their presence quelling the danger like a stone dropped in water. Amara’s saber dimmed, her chest heaving. But it was Kleya’s stillness that had kept the rest from fracturing.

✧ The council praised Amara’s bravery. Kleya received quieter thanks: “Excellent emotional regulation,” someone said. The words felt clinical, thin. She didn’t need applause—but the doubt crept in anyway. Did stillness matter if it left no visible trace? That evening, she wandered the deeper stacks of the Archives, her loth-cat Sandy trailing like a shadow. There, she found Master Arindon—her sponsor, her observer—browsing war chronologies. They sat in silence until the Master spoke: “Still water carves deepest.” Kleya didn’t answer. But the phrase lodged in her chest, folding into a question she would carry for years. That night, in her journal, she didn’t write about the attack. She wrote about the breath before it. The moment before movement—when choice becomes identity.

✧ Amara didn’t understand. “Why didn’t you move?” she asked, voice tense. Kleya hesitated. “Because I knew you would.” It wasn’t an excuse—but a truth. One that didn’t fully soothe either of them. Their bond was deep, but not without tension: Amara, kinetic and incandescent; Kleya, patient and precise. Master Arindon soon invited Kleya to observe higher-level diplomatic simulations, where words carried as much risk as sabers. Kleya flourished there. She deciphered cultural codes, mediated theory debates, even translated fragments from ancient Tythonian. She began to see her quiet not as absence—but as influence shaped through intention. While others trained to act, she trained to perceive. She didn’t need to command the moment. She needed to understand it.

✧ Her Initiate trial came without a duel. Instead, she was tasked with reconstructing a fractured holocron record—one corrupted by age and buried under lost dialects. No translations, no databanks. Just her and the Force. She began not with decoding—but with stillness, letting the Force thread meaning through the symbols. What emerged was a memoir from a Jedi Consular who had stopped a planetary war not with weapons, but with truth. Kleya presented her findings calmly, her voice steady as she explained the power of presence over force. The Knights listened. So did Amara—her brow furrowed, but eyes shining with a pride she rarely voiced. Afterward, Amara asked, “How’d you find that clarity?” Kleya simply said, “I listened to what wasn’t being said.” And for the first time, Amara didn’t challenge her. She just nodded. Because even fire learns from stillness.

📓 Personal Log: “Stillness Holds” | Tython, 3643 BBY

"The forest doesn't shout. It waits. I used to wonder if silence meant being invisible. Now I think it means being ready. Amara protects with motion. I anchor with presence. Master Arindon says stillness is a discipline, not a default. I’m beginning to believe that. I may never lead with fire—but I’ll always hold the breath before it. And in that space, I think I’ll find who I really am."

🟥 Episode II – Voices in the Dark
3636 BBY | Age 17 | Fall of Ziost Era | Coruscant, Jedi Temple Archives & Underlevel | Jedi Padawan

🪐 Galactic Context:

The destruction of Ziost by the Sith Emperor has sent a wave of dread through the Republic. Though few know the full extent of the atrocity, whispers of Force-based annihilation unsettle even the most composed Jedi. On Coruscant, civil tensions rise in the lower sectors as fear breeds instability. Assigned to research potential Sith cult presence below the surface, Kleya Noxstarr begins her first solo investigation. Her lightsaber remains at her belt. But the real weapon is her ability to listen

📘 Narrative:

✧ The underlevels of Coruscant spoke in fragments—scraps of sound, flickers of tension, shadows too loud for comfort. Kleya Noxstarr adjusted her breathing as she descended into Sector 43, the Temple’s white spires now far above. Her assignment from Master Arindon was clear: trace anomalous data spikes linked to Sith-aligned transmissions near abandoned infrastructure hubs. No combat. Just observation. But the weight of Ziost lingered in every whisper she heard on the streets. People spoke of cities vanishing, of Force storms, of death with no warning. Kleya moved with practiced calm, but inside her thoughts twisted—what if the darkness they feared had already taken root? Her fingers itched near her datapad, not her saber. She didn’t feel ready to fight. She only hoped she was ready to understand. And beneath that hope was a question she hadn’t yet spoken aloud: what if presence wasn’t enough?

✧ Her search led her to a shuttered market stall repurposed into a makeshift data relay point. From there, she triangulated low-frequency comm chatter—code-tagged with phrases she recognized from her Revanite studies: “Memory is liberation,” “The wound must open to heal.” The syntax felt warped, like a doctrine half-remembered and half-bent. Kleya sat cross-legged on the stall floor, loth-cat Sandy curled at her side, data streams humming around them like breath. She filtered language through pattern logs, slowly reconstructing the rhetorical cadence of a small but dangerous cult: a Revanite offshoot embracing fear as prophecy. Her pulse slowed. Her jaw relaxed. She felt the Force nudge her forward—not with urgency, but with purpose. She contacted Master Arindon, reporting her findings with measured clarity. The Master’s voice came through steady: “Good. Now let’s see how deep it goes.” Kleya nodded silently, though her stomach coiled tight. This wasn’t just data. It was belief—misguided, but rooted.

✧ A week later, the Council approved an expanded investigation. Kleya was paired with Amara—her first joint mission with her twin since Tython. The reunion was familiar, frictional, and oddly grounding. Amara moved like a spark ready to catch; Kleya like water held in a vessel too full. Their target was a defunct freight terminal near the Works—a forgotten artery in Coruscant’s underworld. While Amara secured the perimeter, Kleya questioned vendors and relief workers, compiling symbols etched into walls and tagged onto scrap droids. One frightened girl spoke of a “red-light ritual” and gave them a datapatch bearing corrupted glyphs. Deeper inside the terminal, they found the cult mid-ritual, their chants echoing against rusted durasteel. Amara’s saber lit instantly—pure, white-blue clarity in a chamber of shadows. Kleya raised her voice instead. “You’re mistaking fear for vision,” she said. “And you’re about to be alone with it.” The hesitation cracked something. CSF moved in. The cultists fled. And Amara, panting, looked at her and said, “You slowed us down… and still won.”

✧ Back in the Temple, Kleya didn’t rest. She buried herself in records, cross-referencing planetary cult systems and early Revanite splinters. She found fear embedded in every faith: the desire for meaning twisted into obedience, into zealotry. Arindon reviewed her report in silence, then handed it off to Temple Shadows for further analysis. Kleya didn’t seek praise. But when the archivists asked her to lecture to senior Initiates, she didn’t decline. Her talk was quiet, filled with open-ended questions: What if our enemies aren’t evil—but just lost? What if silence isn’t surrender, but strength? She didn’t offer solutions. She offered frameworks. And afterward, one Initiate whispered, “I didn’t know you could lead like that.” Kleya smiled—softly, quietly—but felt something anchor in her chest. She wasn’t invisible. She was deliberate. And the Force had noticed.

✧ One night, as the Temple skylanes lit the domed ceiling in pulsing gold, Amara found her beside the archive balcony. “That was different,” she said. “How you moved in there.” Kleya nodded. “I didn’t move. I waited.” They stood side by side, watching the undercity flicker below. “You always say things that sound like they should be obvious,” Amara muttered. Kleya let the silence hold. Her sister didn’t need more words. She just needed to share the stillness. In that moment, Kleya realized her strength didn’t need to roar—or burn. It just needed to be. That was the kind of light no one saw coming. And it never left when the battle ended.

📓 Personal Log: “Voices in the Dark” | Coruscant, 3636 BBY

"The cult didn’t scare me. What scared me was how much they wanted to believe. In anything. That’s the wound Ziost left in all of us—uncertainty so deep we cling to even warped visions. Master Arindon says listening is how we soften fear. Amara still leaps. But sometimes, she lets me anchor her. The Force doesn’t call everyone to fight. It called me to notice. And that’s enough—for now."

🟥 Episode III – Shelter Amid Shadows
3635 BBY | Age 18 | Rise of the Eternal Empire | Taris, Civilian Relief Zone | Jedi Padawan

🪐 Galactic Context:

As the Eternal Empire launches its campaign of domination, the Republic scrambles to protect strategic and symbolic worlds—Taris among them. Though warzones dominate the headlines, forgotten cities and relief camps bear the burden of survival. Jedi Padawan Kleya Noxstarr is embedded with Republic civilian coordinators—not to fight, but to listen, organize, and anchor the fragile threads of recovery before they snap. 

📘 Narrative:

✧ Taris still bore the wounds of centuries past—its bones rusted, its air sharp with rot and radiation. Kleya walked quietly between tents, her footsteps light, her shoulders bowed slightly beneath the pressure of everything unspoken. Children cried softly behind tarped walls; soldiers muttered theories about Eternal troop movements. Her throat tightened as she stepped into the triage circle—so many eyes, exhausted and wary. She almost asked for silence—but swallowed it, knowing silence wasn’t what they feared. Instead, she offered water, clarity, and presence. She crouched beside a med officer, aligning inventory logs with patient flow charts. Around her, tension slowed—not vanished, but eased. She met each gaze with calm. Silence weighed heavy, but she carried it gently.

✧ The attack came not with troops, but confusion. Rumors of Eternal saboteurs spread faster than truth, and panic ignited like fire across the camp. Kleya stood in the center, palms raised. Her breath slowed; her voice didn’t rise, but rooted. “We’ve prepared for this. Breathe with me.” Her jaw tightened when a frightened boy clutched her robe. She almost flinched from the pressure of so many expectations—but swallowed the instinct to withdraw. Instead, she anchored. With medics, she reestablished corridors; with guards, she clarified fallback points. Fear had been the first weapon—she met it with stillness. And when calm returned, silence weighed heavy once more.

✧ Kleya coordinated the secondary evac shuttles, data pad in hand, sandy loth-cat at her heel. A Republic envoy approached with urgency—“You’ve got maybe twenty minutes before they reach the comms relay.” Her pulse skipped, throat tightening. She almost deferred, almost passed the lead—but swallowed the fear instead. She adjusted timing, rerouted priority units, and ensured refugee manifests stayed intact. Her fingers trembled slightly, but she didn’t pause. She spoke softly to each evacuee—calling them by name when she could, offering the smallest tether to meaning. As the first shuttle rose, one elder turned back and whispered, “You steadied the storm.” Kleya bowed her head. And silence weighed heavy in the lift’s afterwash.

✧ In the stillness of night, Kleya wrote in her field journal beneath a rust-stained canopy. The stars above Taris flickered behind radiation haze. She thought of Amara—brilliant, quick, storm-blooded—facing fire while she cradled its aftermath. Her jaw clenched with a familiar ache. She almost envied that clarity of motion—but swallowed the comparison. Instead, she wrote about systems, about people, about listening. Her loth-cat curled beside her ribs. She breathed slowly through the pressure behind her eyes. Victory here looked like a child eating quietly, or a medic falling asleep at last. The camp held. And silence weighed heavy—but didn’t break her.

✧ The next morning, the site commander offered a commendation—Kleya declined. She didn’t need it. Her robes were already stained with dust, her datapad full of rewritten plans. Her hands ached. Her breath caught as she walked the ruined paths between shelters, watching survivors rebuild in slowness. She almost stopped to explain what hadn’t worked—but she let the work speak instead. She met Amara by the evac zone; they nodded, shared a ration, said nothing. The Force moved differently here. Quiet, low, steady. And silence weighed heavy—but so did hope.

📓 Personal Log: “Shelter Amid Shadows” | Taris, 3635 BBY

"War moves fast. But not everyone can. Here, I’m not meant to strike—I’m meant to listen. I almost forgot that mattered. But today, I saw how presence holds people steady. Amara burns bright. I hold the breath between. The Force feels thin here, but true. I’ll keep showing up—in the quiet, where it counts."

🟥 Episode IV – Voices That Endure
3632 BBY | Age 21 | Age of Zakuul | Ord Mantell, Northern Observation Post | Jedi Padawan

🪐 Galactic Context:

Coming Soon

📘 Narrative:

✧ Coming Soon

📓 Personal Log: “Endurance Isn’t Silence” | Ord Mantell, 3632 BBY

Coming Soon 

🟥 Episode V – The Light That Lasted
3630 BBY | Age 23 | Age of Zakuul | Balmorra, Buffer Zone Tertiary | Jedi Knight

🪐 Galactic Context:

Coming Soon

📘 Narrative:

✧ Coming Soon

📓 Personal Log: “I Held the Line” | Balmorra, 3630 BBY

Coming Soon

🟥 Episode VI – The Weight of Peace
3629 BBY | Age 24 | Age of Zakuul | Dantooine, Medical Station Echo | Jedi Knight

🪐 Galactic Context:

Coming Soon

📘 Narrative:

✧ Coming Soon

📓 Personal Log: “Peace Is a Burden We Choose” | Dantooine, 3629 BBY

Coming Soon

🟥 Episode VII – A Flame Unfaltering
3627 BBY | Age 26 | Onslaught | Onderon, Central Summit Grounds | Jedi Knight

🪐 Galactic Context:

Coming Soon

📘 Narrative:

✧ Coming Soon

📓 Personal Log: “Stillness Under Fire” | Onderon, 3627 BBY

Coming Soon

🟥 Episode VIII – Truth Beyond Silence
3624 BBY | Age 29 | Legacy of the Sith | Coruscant, Senate Meditation Dome | Jedi Knight

🪐 Galactic Context:

Coming Soon

📘 Narrative:

✧ Coming Soon

📓 Personal Log: “What Silence Concealed” | Coruscant, 3624 BBY

Coming Soon

🟥 Episode IX – The Legacy Within
3621 BBY | Age 32 | Galactic Threads | Tython, Master Reflection Spire | Jedi Master

🪐 Galactic Context:

Coming Soon

📘 Narrative:

✧ Coming Soon

📓 Personal Log: “I Am the Legacy” | Tython, 3621 BBY

Coming Soon