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 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 in fact hydrostatic force-fields that contain breathable atmospheres for their occupants and have special portals that allow theinhabitants 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.

Having recently finished negotiations for parts to repair the Ascendant Legion's mechanized portions, Tra'an Reith browsed the Gungan market with his hood down. It was one of the few places where his being so, different, went unremarked upon. The di PLagia knew he was being tailed, but not by whom, or why. A reflection of some kind, off a scope or binoculars, caught the corner of the Kaleeshi's eye. Turning a corner with speed, he ducked into a store selling very old scrolls. It amused him to still see hard copy anything in this day and age of electronic records, but he supposed it was more practical under the sea.

He lingered for a while, before emerging and turning back the way he came, heading towards the the market area's central square, hoping for a less confined quarters to face whomever it was pursuing him. The warning came just in time, causing him to spin in place, right foot sliding out as his left knee bent and he blocked the incoming dagger strike with the sheath of his sapphire blade. His eyes rose before compressing to slits as he hissed in recognition.

"So Laren. Who was it that finally paid you enough to risk your life on my scales?" As the Mercenary opened his mouth to answer, Tra'an pushed with all his might, sending the Privateer stumbling backwards.

The crowd dispersed, scattering and calling for the guard as they recognized the dagger as it glinted in the reflected light from the diffused glow of the lamp posts. The smell of the ocean intensified as the exits worked hard to cycle out the fleeing masses, letting in tiny gushes of water.

Laren looked around at the thinned crowds and scowled, his surprise attack ruined and his crowd cover rapidly vanishing. Tra'an chuckled as he unclasped his cloak, letting it puddle to the ground before kicking it away and revealing his Plagueis uniform underneath. With a flick of the thumb, he disengaged the catch on the scabbard of his Sapphire Blade, letting it slip to the ground, as he drew his MSD 32 Disruptor Pistol in his left hand.

The Pantoran raised an eyebrow and dashed to the side, raising his blaster. The mercenary partially depressed the trigger as Tra'an matched his movement, closing at an angle. The cerulean-skinned alien waited until his scaled foe was just out of sword range and depressed the trigger, forcing Tra'an to whip his Sapphire Blade into a blocking position. The enhanced material blemished but held together as Laren whipped his dagger around, finding only air while Tra'an crouched and jumped backwards out of range.

The Dark Jedi triggered his disruptor pistol, forcing Laren to dodge. This ionized plasma charge vaporized a huge chunk of stone where he had been standing, as the former Obelisk came to a landing and sheathed his weapons.

"So you can't make do with normal weapons after all?" He taunted. Tra'an bared his teeth, triangular cutters shining in the light, but said nothing as he twisted his left hand, dropping his lightsaber from its concealed perch and into his hand. The activation switch depressed with an audible click and buzzed to life. With a hiss, he jumped back into close contact, bringing the copper-hued saber in to strike from a wide angle.

The wiry Pantoran barely managed to escape the powerful first strike of the emboldened Dark Jedi in front of him, stepping backward swiftly in desperation. His gargantuan opponent continued a series of wide, powerful strikes with his lightsaber, forcing Laren backward through a tight avenue nearly devoid of its usual lurking denizens. His size is deceiving, Laren thought as he somersaulted backwards, the lightsaber instead cutting through the air with a loud whoosh. For a man of Tra’an’s size, his movement was akin to a cornered Corellian viper: fast and desperate.

In moments his luck subsided, and the edge of Laren’s boot caught a small step, causing him to fall on his back with a soft thud. He scrambled back to his feet, but Tra’an was moments away from stabbing him through the abdomen. Laren searched his mind wildly, searching his surroundings for anything that could save his life from the di Plagia he had been tasked to follow. He didn’t know what would be worse -- failing his mission or dying at Tra’an’s hand.

Suddenly, a young gungan man was passing mere inches in front of him, running wildly and right in the path of the battling Plagueians.

That’s it.

“Sorry about this,” Laren called sarcastically, getting the young gungan’s attention and slowing his pace slightly.

The young gungan man didn't stand a chance. Once he was in reach, Laren grasped the man’s arm with all of his might, using the gungan’s momentum to propel him straight into the advancing di Plagia’s path. Laren didn't wait to see if the man escaped death, hoping only that the distraction bought him a few seconds of time and a few metres of distance. A guttural scream and the sound of shielded-plasma searing flesh confirmed to the cerulean-skinned bounty hunter that Tra’an had dispatched the gungan, most likely leaving his body limp on the street. With his dark cloak billowing behind him and his fine, dark clothes soiled with sweat, Laren turned a corner and was out of sight of the pursuing Kahleeshi. He found a staircase that led to the roof of a three-story building, eventually going prone and looking down at the Dark Jedi on the street below. He gripped his hand blaster vigilantly and waited, hoping the incoming city guard would provide ample distraction with which to disable the Dark Jedi.

Tra’an deactivated his copper-hued lightsaber, slowly stepping over the lifeless body of the young gungan he had just murdered. Laren observed him closely, studying what he could of his body language from a distance. He clearly felt nothing for the young man he had cut down minutes before. He was a ruthless killer, a respectable target for the spry Pantoran. A worthy man to test.

“You haven't gone far,” Tra’an began, his slow meandering steps leading him into another shielded hub of the impressive underwater city, his instinct leading him toward his rival Plagueian. “You underestimate my power.”

“Yousa stop!” came a sudden call to Tra’an, from an adjacent section of the city ahead of him. The city guard was approaching, as Laren had hoped.

A patrol of five gungans armed with electropoles and large, violet-coloured purple shields bounded toward the hulking Dark Jedi, but upon seeing the lightsaber in his hand, they stopped in their tracks at least two metres away. Tra’an locked eyes with the lead gungan, standing at the front of their five-soldier wedge formation. Laren easily saw their fear, and he knew Tra’an could also feel sense their bodies trembling. The massive man’s head turned, and Laren almost thought that Tra’an was looking right at him. Too little too late, Laren realized his plan to corner the Dark Jedi was foiled.

“Mesa declare that by the orders of the Boss --” The gungan patrol officer stopped his speech as Tra’an activated his lightsaber in his left hand. “You -- yousa will come with --”

Tra’an extended his right hand, calling upon the Force with all of the anger and hatred he could muster. He had no time to deal with the foolish gungans, and he had no time to deal with the foolish would-be assassin preparing for their second bout atop the local gungan structure. He bent the Force to his will, using his power to telekinetically throw their shields aside. Before the patrol could react, the enraged di Plagia let a sinister grin appear on his face as he cut down the five gungans one by one, severing cauterized limbs as easily as sliding a knife through butter.

It was then that Laren decided to fire his blaster, but the act was expected. As the final gungan dropped to the ground in a steaming heap of perfectly burnt flesh, his head rolling away idly, the veteran Seer made sidestepping the incoming plasma bolts seem easy and mundane. Laren fired ferociously, beads of supercharged plasma bearing down on Tra’an with malevolent purpose and impressive speed. But the man responded by increasing his already impressive strength and speed with the Force, dodging the incoming fire and making a graceful leap that had him land only a few feet behind Laren.

Laren didn't wait for the Dark Jedi to regain his footing or reignite his lightsaber. His blaster was useless at close range unless he wanted to commit suicide, so he holstered it and bounded toward the monstrous man in front of him. With momentum on his side and a smaller frame with which to hit, Laren harnessed his adrenaline and emotions to launch a strike against the waiting di Plagia. He landed a spinning kick on the Seer’s left leg, causing the man to drop his lightsaber in surprise.

“Fight me, fool, or you will never learn why I came for you,” Laren taunted, landing a series of strikes against Tra’an. “Don't let a basic beat you at your own game.”

Tra'an stepped into the next blow, hardening his scales to ferrocrete-like density, letting Laren strike him. The shock and moderate agony on the Privateer's face as the bones in his hand nearly shattered from the rebounding force of the impact, was further complicated when the viper-esque Dark Jedi slammed an open palm into his chest. The sheer power of the blow launched the off-balance Pantoran backwards, the impact upon his back making him spit as the wind rushed out of him. Tra'an leaned down to grab his lightsaber, sheathing it in his sleeve again.

As he straightened up, he nodded in respect as In testament to the Privateer's training, he rolled to get away from the di Plagia, dropping over the edge of the building. Using his good hand, Laren maintained just enough contact with the building to aim his feet and release onto a balcony three meters below. With a smooth impact, aided by the careful displacement of his feet, Laren immediately swung around to go inside the building, only to be confronted by a security shutter.

Cursing, the mercenary turned back around and looked across the street to see balconies across the way. He took no time to think, running at the railing of his landing pad, vaulting it with his good hand, landing on it with his feet, and jumping forward to maintain his momentum. Time seemed to slow for a moment as he hung in mid air, the sound of ionized plasma causing him to tuck into a ball. The change in his profile caused him to drop farther than he intended, but led to the disruptor blast missing him by scant centimeters.

Tra'an watched from atop the edge of the three story building as the disruptor shot missed its target and partially dissolved the shutter on the opposing landing of the second floor. The sound of more Gungans shouting and calling for formations was barely heard over the screeching of the metal as it tore from its moorings. The shutter buckled as the wiry alien completed his tuck and roll, slamming into it feet first and riding it into the apartment across the way. Imitating his foe, Tra'an hooked the edge of the building, then jumped sideways and across the way, managing his landing to alight upon the third story balcony across the way, allowing him to see the coming Gungans.

He stepped up onto the railing of the balcony, looking for something to clear the latest patrol, and his eyes lit upon a nearby lamp post that shone brightly. He jumped forward, away from the balcony, landing smoothly upon the street three stories below, crouching as he landed, feet sliding to distribute the weight of the impact and preserve his momentum as he rushed toward the beautifully piece of metalworking. With nary a thought, he used his lightsaber to bring it down, and harnessed the Force to accelerate it towards the intersection of the roads as the Gungan patrol emerged. The energy shields were no match for the mass of the wrought iron as it slammed the five aliens backwards, crushing them into the side of a building.

The metal landing pad skid to a halt not too far into the living quarters, bleeding the momentum from the jump and allowing the skilled Equite to rapidly assess his choices. Moving on instinct, he dashed to his left for the stairwell, vaulting down the stairs, using the railing at the hairpin in the stairway to land on, and bounce across to keep vaulting down the stairwell at speed. He landed on the main floor and sprinted for the doorway that led out the far side of the building opposite of where he'd left his opponent.

Tra'an turned his head at the sound of the impact of falling feet, before hearing the sound of running feet fading as they moved away from him. He thought about where he was in relation to the exits and moved towards the nearest one quickly. As he rounded another corner, there was yet another Gungan patrol.

"Stop youse!" yelled the lieutenant. When Tra'an dropped his lightsaber into his hand again, the Gungan's eyes shone with fear...

The muted darkness of the building interior gave way to the brightly lit streets of the city market, still deserted from the rapid panic. Looking left and right, he turned left and walked quickly towards the portal ahead of him. Thinking of how to survive, he grabbed a series of thin, decorative wooden name plaques about the size of his fingers, and some thin but stiff fabric, improvising a hand splint. As Laren neared the exit, his foe emerged from the cross street nearest the exit, gaze seizing upon the Pantoran.

"Ah, you arrived." Tra'an Remarked wryly. "I gambled that you would head for the shortest exit once you got out, and it even looks like you bandaged your hand! Good choice that." The Ex-Quaestor taunted him, "You could surrender you know. We can go back to the Dread Lord and you can explain your failure in person. At least you'll live."

Laren said nothing at first, considering his options. With his hand broken, his blaster running low on ammo, and his opponent still looking fresh and not winded, it wasn't exactly a smart choice to keep fighting. He had an idea, one that he thought might work. Maybe. Laren sighed and winced, slowly moving towards Tra'an.

"Alright. I surrender. Let's go home." The Merc's voice seemed to relax Tra'an.

"I didn't want to kill you. You've proven to be good sport, and in time you'll be even better. I look forward to what you will bring to Plagueis." Tra'an's response and relaxed attitude surprised Laren, and he let it show as he got closer. Just meters away.

"I normally don't do this, but the Job isn't worth my life. Besides, depending on how badly the Dread Lord reacts, I can always finish it later." Laren laughed as he closed within melee distance. He held out his damaged hand, then laughed it off, the splint preventing him from shaking Tra'an's hand. As they swapped hands to shake with, Laren plunged his Echani blade into the Seer's palm, The move was so quick, Laren almost didn't believe he'd succeeded.

Even as he opened his mouth to gloat, the discharge of the disruptor at waist height caught his ears, his body dissolving into nothingness before he could react, his face frozen in the rictus of a moment of exultation.

"I told you not to underestimate my power!" Tra'an whispered as he grimaced in pain. He screamed as he withdrew the knife, dropping it to the ground. As the blood gushed forth, he activated his Lightsaber and screamed again as he used just the edge to cauterize the wound. Dropping to one knee, he fought to control the pain and re-knit the artery to stem the internal bleeding. As moments passed, the sounds of yet another Gungan patrol could be heard, multiples actually.

The former Quaestor reached to his belt and double clicked the communicator there to summon his ride. It was time to leave.

Tra’an snarled, furious that the Pantoran had managed to catch him off guard. Laren smiled, knowing he had dealt the Dark Jedi an unexpected blow, both physical and of pride.

“Reith, prove you aren't a coward. Fight me without that fancy lightsaber of yours.”

The Dark Jedi easily called his dropped lightsaber back to his hand, initially ignoring the bounty hunter’s taunts. As he activated the glowing copper blade, he brought it in front of himself. Laren loosened his stance, making himself ready for the Kaleeshi's powerful strike. It would take every ounce of Laren’s skill to come out of such an engagement alive.

In an unexpected move, Tra'an suddenly deactivated his lightsaber and safely stowed it away. He set his right leg back and kept his left forward and bent. His arms were placed by his side, elbows contained near his torso, and strong hands pointed forward. They're ready to grab, Laren analyzed in his head, recognizing the juggernaut's open palms. The Pantoran would have to use speed to overcome his fellow Plagueian.

Laren crept forward, his legs bent and his stance kept low. As the gap between the fierce Kahleeshi and the spry bounty hunter closed, Laren visually probed for an opening in his defenses. With less than a pace between the two combatants, Laren opened himself to the battle and engaged his foe.

He launched a short flurry of quick strikes, testing the goliath’s defenses. His attacks were ultimately unsuccessful, and Tra’an repelled his advance with a stiff push. But Laren was patient. His will to understand his opponent’s strategy and emotions was paramount to his chance of survival.

Laren advanced once again, seeking to draw his opponent into a confrontation. Laren and Tra’an both stepped forward at the same time, surprising each other at their mutual boldness. The large Kahleeshi gripped at Laren’s shirt, desperately attempting to wrestle him into the ground. Laren brought his right arm up in retaliation, adeptly knocking away Tra’an’s arm. Using this opening, Laren brought his right arm to bare in a ferocious straight lead, striking Tra’an just under his armpit. The larger humanoid briefly cried out in pain, though he quickly collected himself, stepped back, and reformed his defense.

As Laren readied to attempt another series of strikes, Tra’an roared in defiance. Taken aback at the intimidating sight, the Pantoran faltered and slowed in his advance. Tra'an seized the opportunity, hoping to charge into an attack. Laren saw him raise his dominant hand, his palm open and facing forward. Moments later the Pantoran felt as if he was hit by an invisible brick wall. The power of the unseen force sent Laren airborne and over the side of the building, falling to the street below.

Twisting in mid-air, Laren hit the ground in a roll, distributing the impact as he skid across the ground. When he finally came to a stop, his back was to the surface, while his scarred face was distorted in immense anguish. Instinctively, he forced himself to wiggle his fingers and toes; a survival method taught to him as a slave in order to test bodily functions after a severe punishment. Everything moved, albeit slowly and foggily, and extremely painfully. His head had smacked into the pavement, and he was lucky to even be alive after such a drastic fall. But through the immeasurable pain, he willed himself to sit up. He needed to see what was going on.

Tra'an had reactivated his copper-hued lightsaber, and was descending the side stairwell of the building. He leapt down the final flight of stairs, spinning to look at Laren.

“There he is! Yousa stop now!”

Tra'an and Laren glanced at each other, having forgotten about the Gungan security forces. The guards were converging from various streets, perhaps twenty strong and with more on the way. In their hands were cestas, loaded with the surprisingly dangerous ‘boomas’, ready to launch a volley at Tra’an and, Laren suspected, himself, too. But an opportunity had presented itself.

Laren redirected the Gungans’ attention. “That guy is a monster! Shoot him!”

The guards didn’t need much convincing. “Fire!”, came the Gungan commander's call.

As the boomas were launched in the air, Laren moved to escape the hulking Dark Jedi, dashing away from Tra'an, who was expertly dodging and deflecting the spherical projectiles. Tra’an’s focus had been momentarily drawn to the Gungans, and as he turned to look back at the spry Pantoran, he saw his opponent running full tilt, away from the battle.

“You coward!”, came Tra’an’s booming voice as he gave pursuit.

Laren paid the comment no mind. As he reached the base of an intersection, he drew his hand blaster. He turned to look at Tra’an, who was bounding through the street in pursuit, expertly dodging the Gungan weapons being hurled his direction. His focus and rage was once again levelled upon Laren, and the bounty hunter was hoping it would stay that way. He wanted to overwhelm the beast with too many opponents in a wide street. But first I’ll have to find one.

Laren spotted a nearby alley. He sprinted away from the advancing juggernaut and began running down the slim opening. Two Gungan security personnel stationed at the opposite exit ordered him to stop, but Laren raised his weapon and fired two bolts of plasma over their wide energy shields, hitting the unsuspecting guards in the head and neck. Laren didn't bother to look back to know if the Dark Jedi was following him, as he could hear the lightsaber hum with every powerful stride. Bloody hell, do not stop running.

With every turn, every metre sprinted, the dedicated Dark Jedi was gaining on the haggard Pantoran. The juggernaut held true to his reputation, cutting down or barreling through any resistance in his path to get to his rival Plagueian. His lightsaber cut through flesh and narrowly deflected or cut at the boomas now being hurled at him from every direction. Laren was still ahead, desperately weaving in and out of side streets and small alleys, hoping that an opening to trap the Dark Jedi would present itself.

Instead, Laren made an abrupt left turn and found himself at a dead end. He looked around, desperate to find a way out. The walls were curved, and too high for Laren to leap over. Nothing. Knowing that the battle was nearly over, Laren took a crouching position along the right-hand wall, hoping to catch Tra'an by surprise.

The armoured Kahleeshi rounded the corner with his lightsaber at the ready, but Laren fired anyway. He squeezed the trigger as fast as he could, sending blaster bolts flying through the air, bound for Tra'an. Some went wide, some were deflected, but the Dark Jedi roared in anguish as two bolts found their mark: one in his abdomen, and one in his left leg. But the Dark Jedi didn't stop moving, but rather his movement seemed to quicken and was further augmented by his brewing fury. He slashed at Laren as he came into range, but the Pantoran narrowly dodged the blow and landed against a wall. This time Tra'an stabbed, catching the Pantoran by surprise. He caught Laren through the chest, and the bounty hunter slid down the wall of the alley, cupping the charred flesh where Tra'an had just stabbed him.

Standing victorious over his opponent, Tra'an asked, “Why are you here, Laren?”

Laren raised a finger on his left hand gently, pointing at Tra'an. “Watching you -- for the Inquisi-” Laren couldn't form the words, as the effects of his internal injuries began to take hold.

“It's a wonder how a disgusting basic like you made it so far in our Brotherhood.”

“It's a wonder -- that you -- are still alive,” Laren replied between coarse breaths, blood beginning to fill his throat and lungs.

Above them and behind them, Gungan security personnel were waiting for a chance to strike. But their fear held them at bay, fear of the beast that had slaughtered so many of their own. And though Laren had wanted to avoid dying and being arrested, perhaps the Gungans could finish the job Laren had started.

The Kahleeshi looked through the amassed faces of his Gungan enemies. His lightsaber was held in front of him, ready to attempt to defend his life from such overwhelming odds. Laren watched, even as he was fading into unconsciousness, how the man stood in defiance of anything that stood in his way. He wasn't a graceful operator, but his brutality got the job done.

“We will meet again.”

Though the man was wounded and exhausted, he had one final trick up his sleeve. Using the last of his strength, he leapt with all of his might. Boomas and spears flew through the air attempting to hit the surprisingly graceful Dark Jedi, but to no avail. He landed on the tip of a nearby walkway and began running, with the majority of Gungans following.

Two unlucky souls were left to guard the nearly unconscious form of Laren. They didn't bother to remove Laren from his blaster, and so he fired at their backs, dropping the two guards in a heap.

Now how the hell will I get out of this mess, was Laren’s final thought before he drifted into blackness.