Beneath the surface of Lake Paonga lies the Gungan capital. Otoh Gunga is constructed in such a manner that leaves the Gungan city trapped beneath water pressures—potentially fatal to the denizens should the city be breached—converging on the lake’s vertical center and floating between the surface of the lake and the lakebed. Its location makes the capital difficult to find without knowing its precise location, remaining untouched during the Separatist occupation of Naboo.

Water-breathing species would be able to swim easily to its bubble-shaped buildings; however, those unable to remain submerged without air would find the distance impossible to swim. Therefore, breathing apparatuses are essential for those determined to make the journey themselves and without the aid of Gungan bongos. Its bubble-like buildings are hydrostatic force-fields that contain breathable atmospheres for their occupants and have special portals that allow the inhabitants to enter and exit. Since the Gungans actually grew the building material of their cities from the natural plasma of Naboo and bubble wort extract, the structure of Otoh Gunga is a hub and spoke design. Each of the bubble-like buildings are compartmentalized units, able to be sealed off at a moment’s notice.

The Gungan Grand Army utilizes patrols that make regular visits between the compartments. Favouring spears, atlatls, Electropoles and cestas for throwing boomas, these soldiers are the staunch defenders of Otoh Gunga. Sometimes armed with distributed Gungan personal energy shields capable of turning aside blaster bolts, these warriors are too-often underestimated, lending to their victories over the Trade Federation.

The heft of a minted coin from Naboo rolled between his clawed fingers, catching the light at different angles as it passed between each of the Kel Dor’s four digits. How long had it been—ten minutes, an hour? TuQ'uan wasn’t fond of waiting in line, much less loitering about for an audience to collect on the rest of his fees. At least his breath mask filtered out the worst of the smells—Kaadu dung and gooberfish among them. Still, as much as he didn’t care to admit, the view outside was something to behold. Beneath his goggles, the merc’s gaze transfixed on the movement of lights outside of Otoh Gunga’s hydrostatic force-fields, catching the moment when a Colo claw fish snatched a smaller fish between its mandibles.

“Yousa, ‘dere!” the guttural voice of a grizzled old Gungan woke TuQ'uan from his trance, his bill noticeably covered in long whiskers. “Da Boss is finished! No more visitors. Whensa yousa gonna leave here?”

“You tell the ‘boss’ I’ll leave when he gives me what he owes—the fee has doubled, as I said,” TuQ'uan adjusted the credit pouch on his hip, which was a lot lighter than he would have liked given the circumstances. “Tell me to shove off one more time, and we’re going to have an issue on our hands.”

“Yoursa issue isn’t with mesa, yousa should besa takin’ a longo walk out of here, or wesa gon’ have trouble!” Evidently, threatening the aging Gungan wasn’t the best choice for getting closer to an audience with the Gungan Boss, TuQ'uan reasoned, when the Gungan’s mounted Kaadu’s foot brushed the ground at the same time that the grizzled veteran himself jabbed the business end of an electropole in front of the Kel Dor’s visor.

“Seems to me we’re at an impasse,” TuQ'uan acknowledged flatly, shifting a clawed hand to unbuckle the holster of a DL-44 blaster in one swift motion. Before the grizzled Gungan could react, a shot grazed a black trail across the back of his scaly forearm while his eyestalks contorted in shock, the bottom of their lids fluttering with the burning sensation.

“That’sa it! Mesa see if yousa’ as bombad when yousa swimmin’ to the surface!” TuQ'uan took a measured step to the side to narrowly avoid the electrified pole thrust in his direction, blocking its return against one of the dual edges of a dagger he produced from his belt.

Before the melee could continue, a lavender-skinned figure materialized from the portal into the boss’ bubble, somewhat amused at the scene of a Kel Dor fending off who she believed could be the most cantankerous of all the guards in Otoh Gunga. “Finally found someone as ill-mannered as you are dour, Kroosk-Kroosk?”

Both combatants traded glances before focusing on the newcomer. “Who are you callin’ ill-mannered, Miss?” TuQ'uan holstered the DL-44, confident that now it was his time to collect his credits and leave this bubble below water.

“Kituri,” the Gungan named Kroosk-Kroosk offered as both an answer and greeting, “A’lora Kituri.”

Tilting the brim of his hat with a clawed digit, TuQ'uan nodded in affirmation. “Miss Kituri—care to have this flap-eared blowfish explain how the ‘boss’ isn’t taking guests, or didn’t he tell you that?”

“Kroosk…” the Togruta admonished, eliciting a shrug from the mounted warrior, “...regardless, I was told that the services of an outlaw aren’t welcomed in Otoh Gunga. You will have to leave, outsider.”

“Outsider?” TuQ'uan scoffed beneath his mask. “You’re as much of one as I am! Not to mention that Blarth of a Gungan shorted on his side of the bargain!”

“That changes nothing.” She stepped closer. “The truth is that the Gungans no longer require your services, and our exchange couldn’t continue with you threatening one of their warriors; honestly, this isn’t a den of thieves that you can shoot without consequence.”

“Your exchange? Well nevermind that, I’m not leaving until that slimy slug makes good on his deal—with me!”

Maneuvering closer to the purple-skinned woman, Kroosk-Kroosk chortled in delight, “Ooh, you’sa gon’ get tossed with da fishes, now!” and drew a nod of dissatisfaction from the Jedi Councillor. Noticing that he might have overstepped his boundaries, Kroosk-Kroosk retreated behind the Togruta like a shield. “Mesa just gon’ sit back and watch ‘dis.”

Offered as some sort of gesture—either to heighten his amusement or out of genuine thankfulness—the Gungan held the electropole over the shoulder of his accomplice like some sort of gladiatorial observer giving his preferred combatant an unfair advantage despite the Kel Dor’s own arsenal. Parting with a pat on her shoulder, A’lora seized the haft in a graceful motion that transitioned into a weaving of patterns that followed her closer to the Kel Dor, again fingering the grip of his DL-44 like a trained gunslinger attending a shootout.

“You brought a stick to a gunfight,” he quipped.

“On the contrary,” A’lora’s voice became several as her image split into six near-identical duplicates, “this isn’t a gunfight.”

Not one to be the last to the draw, TuQ'uan’s clawed fingers brought the DL-44 blaster pistol from its sheath with a singular rotation, blasterfire erupting from its barrel with a speed that Greedo himself might have envied—if the famous bounty hunter had survived his encounter with Han Solo.

Four of the bolts struck the mirror images of a very angry Togruta in succession. Unfortunately for him, however, he didn’t possess the famous smuggler’s luck and each of the shots dissipated against the electrostatic force-fields.

“Aw, krif—” the mask-muffled voice of the Kel Dor cut short against the uncharged end of the Togruta’s electropole, which crashed against the side of his head like a Tusken gaderffi.

“Yousa gon’ feel that tomorrow!” the familiar voice taunted from the sidelines from atop his Kaadu. “Ain’t no one mess with bombad Jedi!”

TuQ’uan gave his head a shake in an attempt to clear away the stars he saw dancing in front of his eyes, he was really starting to really hate this ridiculous place. As he steadied himself, the mercenary brought his gaze up to meet the eyes of one of the identical Togruta standing before him, not quite sure if he was seeing double or if the Force illusion was still at work here.

“That was a stupid move lady.” He began slowly moving backwards creating some distance between himself and the Jedi, his finger hovering over the trigger, ready to let loose a volley of plasma at a moments notice if either of the figures made a move.

The Kel Dor’s reflexes kicked in as the two A’loras started their rush forward. TuQ’uan dove to his right as his finger twitched, sending streaks of red plasma shooting across the distance. The first bolt struck the A’lora on the left straight through the chest, causing the Force image to evaporate. Meanwhile, the dive had caused his normally excellent accuracy to go wide, a bolt that normally would have planted itself square in his target instead narrowly missed– doing little more than warming up the skin that it passed by. Luck was finally on his side though as a third bolt burned into the Togruta’s calf sending her to the ground as she put too much weight on the fresh wound. The shot hit lower than he had meant it to, but it would still slow his opponent down a bit.

With a thud, the Kel Dor landed on his shoulder and used his momentum to roll onto his stomach and back on to his feet. Tu’Quan spun around with his blaster aimed at the Jedi on the ground, or at least where she should be laying. Instead, the ground was empty and the only person he saw was that framing Gungan Kroosk-Kroosk who looked even more confused than he was.

The mercenary took a few trepidatious steps forward, keeping his DL-44 up and ready. This was a Force trick he had never seen before but in all his years of dealing with Force users, he was getting less and less surprised by their seemingly impossible stunts such as disappearing into thin air.

”Come out, come out, wherever you are!” he called out, his voice echoing down the nearly empty street. ”Look, we can call this whole thing off right now. I don't even want to fight you, I just want to get what's owed to me and get off this rock.” His response came in the form of complete silence, the only thing he could hear was a commotion drifting over from the nearby streets and people began to wonder about the uncharacteristic blaster fire.

The mercenary was almost back to where the whole ordeal began when he noticed a smug look on the Gungan’s face. Suddenly the Kel Dor felt like he was floating as his world flipped backwards, A’lora’s electrostaff crashed into the back of his legs with a dull thwack that swept his legs out from underneath him. TuQ’uan’s hat barely cushioned his head as it slammed against the ground, his blaster skittered across ground. The mercenary was now less concerned with leaving with his payment and more concerned about leaving without brain damage.

The Togruta swung her electrostaff down in a ferocious overhead attack aimed between her opponent's eyes, TuQ’uan rolled to the side narrowly avoiding another blow to the head. As soon as he came to a stop, the mercenary was rolling again, dodging another unrelenting attack. As A’lora began a third swing at the downed Kel Dor he reached out a heaved with all of the might he could muster and pulled her good leg putting all of the Jedi’s weight on the fresh wound. The electrostaff’s trajectory changed as its wielder fell backwards, the wood collided with the Kel Dor’s shoulder with a sickening crunch.

The two outsiders lay on the stone of Otoh Gunga’s empty street, each of them writhing in their own pain but not wanting to concede the fight to the other.

”I...can do this all...day, ” TuQ’uan groaned.

”Good, I'm...just getting...started,” A’lora panted.

The commotion from the other street was getting closer, the mercenary was going to have to lure the Togruta away from here before he got overwhelmed by not only fighting her but however many Gungan guards were on their way.

”Yousa in real poo-doo now!” Kroosk-Kroosk exclaimed. ”Hesa ov’a dis way!”

The heavy pounding of large Gungan feet on stone echoed down the street as TuQ’uan dragged himself towards his blaster.

Tic tic tic, the newcomer’s tongue clicked derisively. One of the Ankuran Gungans, the current Boss of Otoh Gunga was known both for his amusement at seeing the squabbles between surface-dwellers and his scorn for the Gungans being caught in their politics. After all, it was outsiders that brought trouble to the Gungans during the Separatist invasion. “Wesa been… welcoming to the Naboo and thes’a surface offworlders,” the Boss’ voice boomed from across the street, “Credits means’a very little to wesa, but yousa have to earn that bonus, prove that yousa as bombad as yousa claim.” Tu’Quan could feel the ground shake with the large Gungan’s pronounced laughter while he scrambled across it in search of his blaster.

“Hutt-sized, son-of-a—” Tu’Quan muttered under his breathing apparatus, taking a dive from a knee towards his favourite blaster pistol.

Feeling the Kel’Dor’s now-armed hand tracking a shot for her forehead through ripples in the Force, A’lora left the electropole behind and took to her favoured leg to roll herself out of harm’s way. The maneuver was cut short of her intended landing with the injured leg thudding against the alloy lattice making up the circular street, shooting sparks through her nerves which caused the muscles of her calf to seize. The shot missed, but she could still feel the superheated gas on her Lekku entering the space where her head had been just a moment earlier.

“Jedi! Use’sa the lightsaber!” Kroosk-Kroosk both warned and cheered, as the Togruta drew and ignited one of its blades in an emerald arc, deflecting one of the oncoming blaster bolts into the transparisteel between the latticed metalwork. Cracks spiderwebbed out from the immediate impact, showering the combatants with pulverized glass from the spot where the bolt had struck a furrow.

Extending the hilt of her lightsaber to a staff-like length, A’lora used the added height for leverage to stand on her wounded leg, planting the extinguished opposite emitter against the transparisteel as she stood. “It’s over,” the Jedi half-wheezed, short of breath, “That blaster will not be of much use against a lightsaber.”

“Agreed,” Tu’Quan’s hand skidded the DL-44 across the transparisteel and alloy surface, “It’s like you said—this isn’t a gunfight.”

The nuances of sarcasm lost on her, A’lora hadn’t noticed the Gungans diving for cover or the object thrown with the Kel’Dor’s blaster sliding to her left. With a sonic boom, the grenade shook her balance and pierced her eardrums. Kroosk-Kroosk and the new arrivals clasped their hands around their large, sensitive ears as best as the Gungans could manage.

Although overcome with a sense of vertigo over the loss of her hearing, the Togruta swung her lightsaber around in a wide arc, colliding soundlessly against an object that wasn’t there before. The arrest of motion barely registered, her ears still ringing despite her best attempts to rebalance herself.

“—not the only one with tricks, Jedi.” She heard the last half of the Kel’Dor’s sentence when the ringing began to subside. However, the relief was replaced with a thwack and the feeling of a pistol grip rapping against the base of one Lekku. The blade of her lightsaber was held in place against a metallic one the mercenary held in his other hand, treated to withstand the blows of even a lightsaber. Of all the things she had foreseen, a merc with this sort of weapon wasn’t on the list of things she might have expected.

As if the squealing wasn’t bad enough, the Togruta now had to blink away the blood that was now trickling down her forehead when she disengaged from the lock. “None of us want to die here, merc. You can still walk out from here, alive.”

“I will,” Tu’Quan breathed through the mask, “with a significant sum of credits.” His hand fell to his belt, holstering his blaster before coming up with another item, round and fitting to the shape of his palm, “Or we’ll all be swimming out of here. How many of those bigger fish do you figure there are out there?”

A’lora wasn’t familiar enough with such devices to know if the grenade was capable of disabling the hydrostatic fields protecting Otoh Gunga, but it wasn’t worth the risk. “Enjoy your small prize, mercenary,” she seethed. The blade of her lightsaber retreated into its casing as she took a limping step back into the recovering crowd of onlookers.

“Well, bombad off-worlder, now’sa we discuss you’sa credits for…” the Ankuran Gungan rubbed the folds under his chin, “your’sa troubles.”

His legs were weak and the pain in his shoulder was intense—though he didn’t think it was broken—forcing TuQ’uan to rely heavily on his right arm to pull himself towards his blaster. Once his blaster was in hand the mercenary got to his feet, stumbling a bit before regaining his composure. Spotting a dark alleyway nearby, TuQ’uan hobbled towards it, pausing to steady himself on the corner of its entrance and to glance back at his opponent.

To his surprise, A’lora had regained her footing and was limping towards him, using her electrostaff as a cane.

“You just don’t give up do you?” he mumbled.

Leaning against the stone wall with his good arm, TuQ’uan lifted his DL-44 with his injured arm and fired a shot that hit the ground short of the unfazed Togruta. Using his left arm proved to be too much, he couldn't quite lift it all the way and the heft of his blaster combined with firing it had sent a jolt of pain through his arm.

“I will kill you, mercenary,” she spit the words out, anger and frustration evident with every step she took.

Realizing that he needed to get A’lora alone, TuQ’uan turned back down the alleyway and hobbled as fast as he could to the other side—the Jedi not far behind him and the Gungan Guards not far behind her.

The mercenary emerged into the street, reached for the cylinder on his belt and primed the sonic grenade before tossing it towards his pursuer and continuing towards another alleyway.

A’lora watched the black cylinder fly through the air and land just behind her. Having already seen a glimpse of this happening, the Jedi pulled the Force into herself. Feeling the pulsing and swelling of the Force infuse with the muscles of her legs, A’lora pushed off with as much strength as she could muster while heavily favouring her good leg and launched herself clear of the blast. The Togruta dove out of the alley and landed in a summersault on the edge of the street.

Bang

A shockwave erupted from the sonic grenade, disorienting the meddling guards. Well, that takes care of that problem, TuQ’uan thought to himself as he continued on, trying to blend in with the shadows as he went.

Partway down the alley, TuQ’uan found a door ajar, leading into what appeared to be an abandoned building—the perfect place to lay low for a little while. Careful not to make any noise as he did so, the Kel Dor snuck through the doorway and into the desolate stone building. Inside very little light came in through the shuttered window of the kitchen, a small table sat in the middle of the room with a thick layer of dust coating it and everything else. Opposite the door was a staircase leading up to a second floor. TuQ’uan carefully made his way up the stairs, using the handrail to steady himself.

The second floor was much like the first, aside from the walls built around three of the four sides of the staircase and a few duracrete support beams spread throughout the somewhat large room, it was sparse. A series of large windows lined two perpendicular walls, and like the one downstairs, these were shuttered with wooden slats that only allowed slivers of light into the room.

As the Kel Dor collapsed against the wall at the top of the stairs he was thankful for the respite. He had only a moment to breath before he a nagging feeling gnawed at him.

Behind you, an oddly familiar voice spoke from inside his head. Suddenly startled by this foreign thought, TuQ’uan pushed himself away from the wall and slowly made his way around the staircase, inspecting the shadows as closely as he could. The mercenary was ready to relax when, much to his dismay, he came face to face with A’lora once again.

“You can't hide,” she spoke with amusement in her voice, still leaning on her electrostaff.

“Why can't you just mind your own business?”

“Oh, this is my business now.”

In a flash, A’lora lifted the electrostaff and transitioned it from a simple cane back into the weapon it was designed to be. TuQ’uan stumbled to the side as A’lora swung the staff down in a heavy overhand swing, before she could bring her weapon back into an attacking position the Kel Dor grabbed it and pulled A’lora towards him and bashed his forehead it into the incoming Togruta. A spurt of blood erupted from A’lora’s lavender nose, the shock of the attack loosened her grip on the electrostaff giving full control of it to her opponent. Taking advantage of her dazed state, TuQ’uan slashed at the Jedi’s wounded calf, the impact sent a wave of pain through A’lora’s leg forcing her to her knee.

Grinding his teeth to fight through the pain, TuQ’uan gripped the electrostaff with both hands and raised it high above his head. Letting out a scream of rage, frustration and pain, he brought the staff down in a heavy swing, putting all of his remaining strength behind the attack.

Things seemed to move in slow motion for the mercenary. The electrostaff made its wide arc down towards its target. A’lora raised her hands up, reaching for the weapon. A’lora grabbed it with both hands and spun on her knee. The electrostaff struck the top of A’lora’s shoulder with each of the combatants holding an end. Suddenly the Togruta’s shoulder became a fulcrum point and the momentum from TuQ’uan’s attack was being used against him. The Kel Dor’s feet lifted up off the ground and with a crash, he was blinded by the light of Otoh Gunga.

TuQ’uan felt like he was having an out of body experience as he flew backwards out of the second story window and into the street below. The last thing he saw before everything went black was the Jedi smirking from the window above.