I Got Di High Ground

Screenplay draft

Title: I Got Di High Ground
Credit: Written by
Author: Based on the Star Wars universe
Draft date: October 2024
Contact: highground@coruscantfilms.com

FADE IN.

EXT. CORUSCANT BALCONY - DAWN

Golden haze hangs over the floating stone platform. Tropical plants ring the edge, their broad leaves heavy with dew. Distant needle towers of Coruscant catch the first light, steam curling up from street-level cookfires far below. Emerald and gold light mixes with humid air thick enough to taste.

JAH-WAN KENOBI stands at the rail, elderly Black man with long silver dreadlocks backlit gold. Warm brown skin creases around kind eyes hidden behind round sunglasses. Flowing white robes trimmed red-gold-green shift in the breeze. He holds a glowing green lightsaber like a walking stick, tip resting on the stone. Smoke rings drift from its humming blade, drifting outward like lazy emerald halos.

He lifts the saber slowly, strumming the glowing blade with callused fingers. A gentle riddim echoes across the rooftops, low bass notes vibrating through the Force itself. Below, tiny figures on speeder bikes sway in time, heads nodding without knowing why.

JAH-WAN
Good mornin', mi breddas and sistas. Di Force flow sweet dis day, ya hear?

He strums again. The green light pulses. Another smoke ring blooms, this one twisting into the faint shape of a raised hand before dissolving. Jah-Wan sways with the riddim, dreadlocks moving like slow vines.

JAH-WAN (CONT'D)
Multiverse open wide. Every level, every tower, every soul still asleep or already grindin'. Feel it?

A speeder bike horn echoes from below. Jah-Wan chuckles, low and gravelly. He taps the saber tip once more, sending a deeper bass thrum rolling outward. The haze thickens, catching the light like film grain.

JAH-WAN (CONT'D)
Who ready fi di high ground?

He pauses, letting the question hang on the riddim. The green saber hums steady. Smoke curls from its tip in lazy spirals. Jah-Wan turns his face to the rising sun, robes catching gold at the edges.

JAH-WAN (CONT'D)
Di spliff get lit when di bass drop true. Who hold it when di light come up?

The riddim fades to a held note. Jah-Wan rests the saber against his shoulder, smoke rings still drifting toward the skyline. The city below keeps swaying.

EXT. CORUSCANT BALCONY - DAWN

Golden haze clings to the floating stone rail. Tropical palms sway in the humid breeze. Far below, needle towers catch the first sunlight. Steam curls from street cookfires. JAH-WAN KENOBI stands at the edge, long silver dreadlocks backlit gold, white robe trimmed red-gold-green rippling against his frame. He holds the glowing green lightsaber like a guitar neck, its tip pulsing like a lit spliff.

He strums the blade once. A soft bass line rolls out across the rooftops, carried on emerald smoke rings that drift and dissolve in the dawn air. Tiny speeder bikes weave between towers, their riders nodding in time to the riddim.

JAH-WAN
Mornin' come sweet when di Force lay gentle, ya hear?

He strums again, longer this time. The lightsaber hums into a walking bass groove. Below, a cluster of speeders slows, their riders lifting hands in lazy salute. Jah-Wan sways, dreadlocks catching the light, round sunglasses reflecting the skyline.

JAH-WAN (CONT'D)
Di high ground waitin'. Always waitin'. But who reach it when di spliff burn low?

He picks at the saber strings with deliberate fingers. The riddim thickens, warm and unhurried. Gold light washes over the balcony plants. A single smoke ring floats out, expands, and frames the distant towers before fading.

JAH-WAN (CONT'D)
Mi breddas below feel it already. Di bass move dem feet. Di melody ease dem mind.

He plays a short melodic phrase. The green glow brightens, casting bone-white reflections across his calm face. Speeders circle closer, drawn by the sound. One rider tosses a flower upward; it spins and lands at Jah-Wan's feet.

JAH-WAN (CONT'D)
Sun come up, same way every time. But today di riddim different. Today di high ground call louder.

He lets the final note linger. The lightsaber hum settles into a steady pulse that vibrates through the stone under his bare feet. Jah-Wan closes his eyes, dreadlocks still, robe catching the breeze like a flag. The city breathes with him.

EXT. CORUSCANT BALCONY - DAWN

Golden haze clings to the floating stone platform. Tropical plants ring the rail, their broad leaves slick with morning dew. Needle towers of Coruscant pierce the skyline beyond, their tips catching first light in sharp gold lines. Steam drifts up from street-level cookfires far below.

JAH-WAN KENOBI stands at the edge, silver dreadlocks backlit warm. His flowing white robe carries red-gold-green trim that catches the sun like fresh paint. The green lightsaber rests against his hip, tip glowing soft as a live coal. He reaches down with both hands and tugs the robe straight, smoothing the fabric over his shoulders until the colors sit even.

He steps forward one pace. His sandals scrape lightly on the worn stone. The city stretches out beneath him, speeder traffic already threading between towers like slow-moving fireflies. A low bass vibration hums through the humid air, felt more than heard, riding the Force itself.

Jah-Wan leans his forearms on the rail. His round sunglasses reflect the distant towers. He turns his head slowly left, then right, taking in the rooftops, the rising steam, the first thin trails of herb smoke curling from open balconies below. Nothing moves on the platform except the gentle sway of his dreadlocks in the warm breeze.

The emerald glow at the saber tip pulses once, matching the slow riddim that hangs in the air.

EXT. CORUSCANT BALCONY - DAWN

Golden haze clings to the floating stone rail. Tropical ferns sway in the warm updraft. JAH-WAN KENOBI stands centered, silver dreadlocks backlit by the rising sun. His white robe catches red-gold-green trim in the light. The green lightsaber rests in his hands like a guitar neck, tip glowing soft emerald.

He strums once. A low riddim rolls out across the rooftops, bass vibrating the humid air. Emerald smoke rings drift from the saber tip, curling into the skyline.

JAH-WAN
Good mornin', mi breddas and sistas. Di Force flow sweet dis day.

He strums again, slower. Tiny speeder bikes below tilt in rhythm, their riders lifting hands without looking up. Jah-Wan closes his eyes behind round sunglasses. The saber hums like feedback.

JAH-WAN
(soft, building)
Who hold di high ground when di spliff get lit?

The chorus line lands full. His voice turns melodic, gravel wrapped around the riddim. Green light pulses brighter with each word, painting faint patois script in the air that fades into gold. Smoke thickens, forming a brief halo around his dreadlocks.

JAH-WAN
Who hold di high ground when di spliff get lit, ya hear?

He holds the final note. The saber tip flares once. Below, cookfire steam rises in time with the bass. Jah-Wan lowers the blade, serene, and lets the last smoke ring drift toward the needle towers.

EXT. CORUSCANT BALCONY - DAWN

Golden haze clings to the floating stone platform ringed by broad-leafed tropical plants. Needle towers of Coruscant catch the first sun, their edges sharp against the skyline. Steam curls from cookfires far below. JAH-WAN KENOBI stands motionless at the rail, white robe trimmed in red, gold, and green rippling once in the humid air. His silver dreadlocks catch the light. Round sunglasses rest on his nose. The green lightsaber leans against his side like a staff, its tip pulsing with a slow emerald glow.

He pauses. Eyes half-closed behind the lenses, he listens. The Force moves through the balcony stones as a low, steady riddim. Emerald smoke rings rise from the saber tip, each one forming a perfect circle that holds shape for a long moment before drifting apart into the morning light.

Below, speeder bikes weave between lower rooftops. Their riders sway in time with the unseen bass. Jah-Wan’s fingers rest lightly on the saber

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