BATTLE FOR CORUSCANT
CORUSCANT
SENATE BUILDING
Michael, Gabriel, Azrael, Sariel, Raphael, Jeremiel, Connel
[Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]
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SCENE: “Ride or Die”
Location: Eastern Siege Line – Imperial Juggernaut Convoy
POV: Jeremiel, Michael, Azrael, Sariel, Raphael
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BOMBED-OUT CORRIDOR – EASTERN TEMPLE PERIMETER – NIGHT
The Imperial Juggernauts rumbled forward, a mountain of steel and fire belching smoke from their exhaust stacks. Six axles. Armored treads. Three forward cannons. Crew complement: unknown.
They're headed straight for the Temple’s southern flank.
And then?
One stopped.
Not because of resistance.
But because Omega Squad just ripped the back doors open.
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INT. DRAG JUGGERNAUT INTERIOR – MOMENTS EARLIER
Jeremiel dropped in first, rifle tight, senses sweeping. Two Imps rose their weapons—too slow.
Pop. Pop.
Both go down. No noise. No hesitation.
Michael followed, back-to-wall, clearing left. A heavy trooper charged from the command deck—Michael kneed him in the gut, then fired point-blank into the helmet seal, dropping him cold.
Azrael walked in last.
He didn’t shoot.
He tossed a small cube into the corridor.
Whump.
Three detonations in rapid succession.
EMP-pulse. Smoke. Flash.
When it cleared?
He’s walking over the bodies. Calm. Clean.
No need for conversation from any of them, they are peak professionals.
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INT. COMMAND THRONE – UPPER DECK – SECONDS LATER
Jeremiel dropped into the command rig, not to pull rank, just to do his job.. His hands were a blur—slicing codes, overriding systems, rerouting safeties.
Mine now,” he says, smiling faintly.
Exterior armor plating shifts. Turrets lock to new targeting parameters.
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EXT. JUGGERNAUT EXTERIOR – REAR TURRET WELL – NIGHT
The remaining Imperial gunners scrambled for the ladder.
Too late.
Michael kicked one off the top rail. The other is yanked down by Azrael, who threw him off the moving vehicle without breaking stride.
The Juggernaut jerkrd forward, now under Alliance control, storming down the causeway—firing on others of the like, drawing attention away from the Temple
And then the stars fall.
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ROOFTOPS ABOVE THE JUGGERNAUT – NIGHT
Raphael and Sariel dropped in like the wrath of the Old Republic from their camouflaged perch having dropped the gunners of two of the other Juggernauts.
Raphael slammed down like a meteor, landing hard on the rear armor. His rotary cannon spun up, wind howling through shattered permacrete.
Sariel landed low—smooth, surgical—immediately taking position behind the dorsal turret.
As cool and eerily calm as always Sariel uttered the words:
Turret's clear.
Lighting up targets.
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MONTAGE – DEATH IN MOTION
Jeremiel throttled the Juggernaut forward, smashing through a barricade like it's made of flimsiplast.
Michael leaned out a side viewport, sniping enemy officers mid-command, sending squads into chaos.
Azrael tossed a satchel charge off the side, which stuck to an enemy walker, then saluted it as it erupted.
Sariel fired turret bursts into elevated positions, cutting down snipers, destroying antenna relays, and punching holes in AA nests.
Raphael? He just stood on top, body braced, rotary cannon barking nonstop fury, turning platoons into paint.
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EASTERN ESCAPE CORRIDOR – JUNCTION 9B – NIGHT
A battered Alliance squad limped out of cover—then stares upward.
The Juggernaut tore through their enemies, smoke trailing, turrets lighting the sky, two black-armored soldiers riding it like ancient war gods.
Azrael yelling “Boom baby!” The more he fired the grenade launcher.
One soldier whispered, half-mad with relief:
“Is that… Omega Squad?”
His sergeant:
“No.”
“That’s death, driving a tank.”
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INT. JUGGERNAUT COMMAND – MOMENTS LATER
Jeremiel switched channels. Fed Connel a signal through Omega’s encrypted line.
Clear path to the Rotunda.
Rear guard secure.
The hammer is yours, big man. Kick their ass!
Connel was fighting his way to the Temple Steps. Each step he took, each battle, was to help another. To free more up. Connel was fighting on will right now, and that was all he needed.
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EXT. JUGGERNAUT ROOFTOP – RAPHAEL & SARIEL
Sariel finished reloading the turret.
Raphael planted his cannon and rested it for a second. He was grinning.
Guess this counts as recon, yeah?
Sariel was busy scanning targets:
Only if recon ends with craters.
When it's fun it does!
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OUTSIDE THE TEMPLE
The Juggernaut peeled off, banking west, drawing fire away.
Connel walked in from the eastern edge, alone.
Omega Squad cleared the road for him.
And above?
The stars still burn.
But so does the legend of a squad that never breaks, never flees, and never, ever fights alone.
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EXT. SKIES ABOVE THE TEMPLE DISTRICT – NIGHT
The war is screaming.
Alliance starfighters ripped across the clouds, chasing down Interceptors in flames. A spire erupts in a ball of shattered transparisteel, and from it fly two burning comets—
And from behind the Temple?
It awakened.
The Temple Nexus pulsed once.
And the ground felt it.
A low hum.
Then—the Plant Surge erupted, triggered by Jedi across the district.
Roots tore through permacrete.
Vines lashed walkers into ruin.
Blossoms of light and color eruptef across a battlefield of ash and fire.
The ground itself begab to remember what it is.
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EXT. TEMPLE FRONT STEPS – NIGHT
Omega Squad slowed to a halt at the rotunda’s outer rim. Not out of hesitation—out of instinct.
Because something else surged through the air now.
It isn’t Force lightning. It isn’t kinetic energy.
It’s presence.
Jeremiel stopped mid-breath.
You feel that?
feel inspired.”
Azrael clenched a detonator, whispering like a prayer.
I feel… AMAZING.
The indescribable feeling came from battle meditation flooding the zone. No commands. No speeches.
Just strength.
The weight lifted. The heart quieted. The will sharpened.
Connel felt it like a supernova igniting inside his soul.
He didn’t feel stronger.
He felt anchored.
This is what iron will taste like. This is the Vanagor bloodline remembering itself.
He didn’t speak.
He walked.
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The doors were already open.
Mordane waited. Silent. Still. Surrounded by elite remnants.
Twelve Phase III Dark Troopers at each flank.
Sith acolytes on the edge of the light gathering.
His trap is sprung.
Connel walked alone.
Just as Mordane wanted.
But what Mordane didn’t see—can’t see—are the ghosts in the shadows.
And Connel started to laugh.
Not maniacally. Not wildly.
But low. Deep. And unafraid.
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Connel just stopped laughing suddenly and raised his head
You really think you’ve got the drop on me?
You think surrounding me with monsters and shadows will make me break?
You think I came here for glory, or some desperate last stand, like a cornered animal bleeding into history?
(He stepped forward. “Dawn's Light” ignited. The shortsaber followed, a deep hum of violet fury.)
You haven’t won anything.
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My father stood so others could rise.
He fell so others could stand. We lost a great one, maybe more, but so many more will rise. No matter what happens today the Jedi will survive!
That is what a Jedi does!
You think dropping me—and let’s be clear—you won’t—will end something?
That the death of one Jedi will bring you your great Empire back? You started something that you can't finish! YOU'RE FIGHTING EVERY JEDI! Not just me! Not just Jedi here! Every Jedi will hear of this!
More will rise. The Temple. The Nexus. The Senate. The people. The very ground you’re standing on will remember your failure.
Because you blew it.
(He stopped, shoulders squared. Head high.)
You blew it the second you came here.
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I came to this planet out of duty.
I stayed out of loyalty.
I fought out of necessity.
(He lifted “Dawn’s Light”, his saber to a guard stance. The crackling violet of the shortsaber danced like a heartbeat.)
But now?
NOW, all I am... is pissed off.
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The Dark Troopers shifted, but Mordane seemed to remain still—his fingers flex behind his back, he had the Empire's best, his best around him.
He looked like he expected fear. What he got was something worse.
Resolve.
Belief.
Legacy with a fuse.
And from above—Sariel shiftee his aim.
From a standard fire order…
To confirmation of kills.
Raphael’s rotary cannon hummed like thunder gathering.
Omega Squad was more than ready.
Connel stared down the darkness.
And smiled.
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Connel, in a time that was eerily calm, final, certain…
Let’s finish this…
(Another phone post, left handed, written uphill, in the snow, both ways, just kidding
If any mistakes, Discord me)
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