Star Wars - Episode I Adventures 010 - Festival of Warriors

by Ryder Windham

  Just then, Captain Tarpals swam past. She stole a glance back at the arena and saw other Big Nasty entrants pouring through the portal zone and into Lake Umberbool. Fassa turned and began swimming after Tarpals. The Captain was a good swimmer, but Fassa was better, and seconds later she skimmed past him.

  As Major Fassa swam, her thoughts drifted to Jar Jar Binks. Fassa really did appreciate the fact that Jar Jar had rescued her from the core, but she was beginning to think that her pledge of a life debt might have been a mistake. The fact that Boss Nass disapproved of the situation didn’t bother Fassa — actually, she thought it was funny to see her uncle get so flustered — but she couldn’t understand why Jar Jar discouraged her from helping him. He always seemed so nervous whenever they were in the same room, and she got the impression that Jar Jar didn’t want her anywhere near him. Which was unfortunate, because Fassa thought Jar Jar was truly brave and kind, in his own funny way.

  Ten minutes later, Fassa was approaching the first checkpoint when a shadow glided over her body. She looked up to see Captain Tarpals hanging onto the side of a broad-bellied hohokum. As all Gungans knew, hohokums traveled quickly through water and they seemed to enjoy giving rides to Gungans. At the hohokum’s present speed, Tarpals would arrive at the first checkpoint well before Fassa.

  More determined than ever, Fassa swam on. She had to admire Tarpals’s use of the hohokum. If she had seen a hohokum, she wouldn’t have hesitated to take advantage of the creature’s superior swimming ability.

  Soon, Fassa arrived at the small outpost bubble that was the first checkpoint. A bright light projected from the bottom of the bubble, illuminating the lake floor below. Such bubbles were generally used to mark boundaries and alert submersibles to treacherous waters, but the checkpoint bubble had been positioned to make sure that each Big Nasty entrant stayed on the correct course. Inside the bubble, a large remote-seein device — a Gungan-engineered image recorder — monitored Fassa’s place and progress in the competition, and broadcast her image back to the arena. After Tarpals, she was in second place.

  Major Fassa was still near the checkpoint when she saw a dark orb floating in the water. At first, she thought it was another remote-seein device, but as she drew closer, she saw long, sharp-tipped sensor spines extending from the orb.

  Fassa had found an underwater mine.

  Gungans and the human population of Naboo disagreed about many things, but both civilizations were wise enough to have outlawed explosive mines on their planet. Mines were senseless weapons for defense, since they could cause great harm to innocent children and wandering creatures. The Gungans were prepared to defend their world against any attack, but they would never resort to planting mines. Fassa suspected the Mackineeks or outlanders had brought this particular mine to Naboo.

  More Gungans were on their way to the first checkpoint, and Fassa realized that their lives might depend on her next move. Unless she disabled the mine, there was a possibility that it could drift into the outpost bubble, or perhaps even all the way to the arena. If a Big Nasty entrant were to accidentally swim into the mine... Fassa shuddered at the thought.

  Cautiously keeping her hands away from the sensor spines, Fassa located a metal panel on the side of the orb. A glowing yellow light indicated the mine was activated. There were five buttons next to the yellow light, and they appeared to control the mine’s operations. Fassa did not know much about mines, but she knew that none of the buttons would cause the mine to detonate, since the sensor spines served that purpose.

  Unsure of what would happen, Fassa pushed a button. The yellow light remained illuminated. She pushed a second button, and the yellow light blinked off. Fassa exhaled an underwater sigh of relief. The mine was deactivated.

  Fassa was not relieved for long. When she looked away from the mine, she saw a glint of metal in a nearby patch of high, tentacle-like plants. She realized she was looking at some kind of droid. In the dense underwater growth, Fassa could only see its head: three red photoreceptors set within a transparisteel skull. The droid looked like it was trying to hide, and Fassa suspected that it was responsible for placing the mine in Lake Umberbool.

  The droid realized it had been spotted. It leaped up from the patch of plants, revealing its full form. It had a broad, chrome-plated chest and nimble, skeletal limbs. Two long fins projected from its back, and each leg was equipped with an aquatic propulsion cylinder. The droid was obviously designed to travel underwater, and it moved away from Fassa in an effort to escape.

  Fassa tore a length of aquatic plantlife from the lake floor and swam after the droid. She quickly tied the plant into a knotted loop, snared it around the fleeing droid’s left ankle, and gave the plant a hard tug. The droid’s servos seized up under the sudden strain.

  The droid sank to the lake’s rocky floor, where it rested beside a large, open fissure. Fassa wanted to know the droid’s origin and why anyone would deliver a mine to Naboo. As Fassa moved closer to inspect the droid, it turned its three photoreceptors at her and declared, “Warning. Auto-destruct in fifteen seconds. Fifteen... fourteen ...”

  Like most Gungans, Fassa knew practically nothing about droids, so it never occurred to her to simply tell the droid to stop. Hoping to prevent it from endangering any other Gungans, she placed her hands on the droid and shoved it into the open fissure. She backed away from the fissure and waited for the explosion. Instead she saw one of the droid’s skeletal hands reach up from within the crevice. The droid was trying to climb out.

  Fassa dove for a large boulder and threw her body behind it. Suddenly, the droid detonated, causing a small explosion that sent metal debris in every direction through the water. One of the droid’s aquatic propulsion cylinders landed right near Fassa’s feet. Fortunately, the boulder had shielded Fassa from the blast itself.

  Several other competitors in the Big Nasty Free-For-All arrived at the first checkpoint just in time to see the end of Fassa’s confrontation with the droid. Fassa raised one hand to her eyes, silently gesturing for the other Gungans to be on the lookout for more invaders, then signaled the athletes to keep swimming. The Big Nasty Free-For-All continued, and the Gungans swam on, heading for Lake Umberbool’s northern swamplands

  Fassa quickly examined the droid’s aquatic propulsion cylinder. The flexible rules of the Big Nasty allowed entrants to use any means of transport they could find to reach each checkpoint. Although such found transport was usually in the form of a creature such as a hohokum or wild kaadu, the rules didn’t mention anything about using propulsion cylinders. The cylinder looked easy enough to operate, and Fassa knew it would certainly shorten the length of her journey to the northern swamp. Then she thought of Captain Tarpals and his hohokum. If she were going to close the distance, she would have to use the propulsion cylinder.

  Fassa secured the cylinder to her belt and activated its launch mechanism. She shot away from the outpost bubble so fast that she felt her head tilt back under the increased water pressure. By the time Fassa had gained control of the cylinder and was slicing through the water at a steady, high speed, she had veered slightly off the Big Nasty course. Still, she knew she was headed in the general direction of the northern swamps, so she continued onwards.

  Minutes later, Fassa reached the edge of the swamp. She rose from the water and found herself surrounded by tall swamp grass. It was only midafternoon on Naboo — the skies were clear and the air was warm. If there wasn’t the possibility of other droids and explosive mines on Naboo, It would have seemed a perfect day.

  Looking around, Fassa noticed that all the swamp grass was unbroken, which indicated that none of the other Big Nasty entrants could have passed through the immediate area. She didn’t know how far she had accidentally strayed from the course, but she thought it wouldn’t be too difficult to find her way to the second checkpoint, which was located at an old watchtower on top of a distant hill. From Fassa’s present position, she could see the tower’s pointed roof.

  Fassa pushed throu
gh the swamp grass and headed in the direction of the watchtower. In her path, she found a wild violet-skinned hrumph chewing on the leaves of a thick-rooted tree. Hrumphs were large, four-legged herbivores, and this one had a wide rack of horns on its head. The creature watched Fassa’s movement as she walked around the tree, ducked under a low branch, and stepped directly into a mudpit.

  Immediately she was up to her knees in thick muck. She tried to step out, but she only sank deeper. Unable to gain any footing, she was soon up to her waist. The hrumph tilted its head at Fassa, and fixed her with a bewildered gaze.

  Fassa reached up and grabbed one of the hrumph’s horns, hoping the creature would raise its head and lift her. But the hrumph shook its head and Fassa lost her grip. Desperate, she stretched her fingers out to a low branch of the thick-rooted tree. Once her fingers wrapped around the branch, she did not let go, and she slowly raised her other hand to the branch. Moving carefully along its length, she worked her way out of the mudpit and onto firm ground.

  “Tanks for nutten,” she said to the hrumph, who had gone back to its leafy meal. Fassa picked herself up and continued on through the swamps, heading for the second checkpoint and taking care to avoid any more mudpits.

  Like Major Fassa, Captain Tarpals had strayed slightly from the Big Nasty Free-For-All. Tarpals wondered if perhaps he shouldn’t have relied on the hohokum to transport him to the shores of the northern swamp. It had left him in somewhat unfamiliar and extremely mucky territory. Because Tarpals was forced to move so cautiously over the terrain, he knew he was losing time in the Big Nasty. Fortunately, the second checkpoint — marked by a tall, old watchtower — was clearly visible to Tarpals, just over a grassy hill in the distance.

  Tarpals reached a clearing and found eight Gungans — dressed in the uniforms of the Lake Umberbool Shore Patrol — sitting on the branches of a tall tree. The Gungans had their backs to Tarpals, and they were gazing at something beyond the high swamp grass. Tarpals stood up on his toes and saw about two dozen Big Nasty entrants making their way through the swamps.

  In the tree, the Shore Patrol team’s commanding officer passed a compact pair of farseein to one of the other soldiers. “Keep yousa eyes open for any mackineeks,” said the commanding officer. “Wesa no wanten any harm to come tada Big Nasty entrants.”

  While the Shore Patrol monitored the passing athletes, Tarpals examined the Patrol’s transports under the tree. There were four kaadu and a single hydrotoboggan. The two-legged kaadu were typical means of transport over Naboo’s swamps, and the sleek hydrotoboggan — a long, sled-like vessel that held up to four Gungans and merely required a push to get it started — was even faster. Tarpals doubted the Shore Patrol would appreciate if he borrowed one of their transports, but a kaadu or the hydrotoboggan was just the thing he needed to cross the swamps.

  From where Tarpals stood, he also saw what appeared to be a winding trail of firm ground that led through the swamp and up a grassy hill toward the second checkpoint. None of the other Big Nasty entrants had yet discovered the trail, which seemed to be a more direct route to the watchtower.

  While the members of the Shore Patrol sat in the tree, Tarpals stepped quietly over to one of the tethered kaadu. As he slipped his hands over the creature’s reins, Tarpals heard a thud on the ground behind him. He turned to see the Shore Patrol’s commanding officer standing next to the kaadu.

  “Un just what yousa tink yousa doen?” the commanding officer asked. Tarpals noticed that the officer’s uniform indicated he was indeed a commander. The other Gungans looked down from their respective perches on the tree.

  “Mesa competen inda Big Nasty,” Captain Tarpals replied. “Mesa borrowen dis kaadu to reach da second checkpoint.”

  “‘Borrowen,’ yousa sayin?” responded the commander. “More lookee liken stealen to mesa! Boot since my un da Shor Patrol isa such Big Nasty enthusiests, yousa welcome tada kaadu.”

  “Tanks,” Tarpals replied as he took the kaadu’s reins.

  “Mesa no finish!” added the Shore Patrol commander as he snatched the reins away from Tarpals. “Yousa welcome tada kaadu... if yousa beat my at wrestle-in.”

  Tarpals’s shoulders sagged. He realized he should have just jumped on the kaadu and galloped off instead of trying to be discreet. Amateur wrestling matches were just the sort of silly situation that led to delays in finishing the Big Nasty.

  Captain Tarpals stared at the Shore Patrol commander’s bare toes, and said, “Yousa wanten to wrestle Paonga style or Umberbool style?”

  The commander looked confused. He’d never heard of an Umberbool style, and was about to ask for an explanation when Tarpals suddenly flipped him over his shoulder and tossed him into the swamp.

  Tarpals hopped on top of the kaadu and dug his heels into the creature’s sides. The kaadu bolted for the winding trail. Behind him, Tarpals heard the laughter and applause from the Shore Patrol. When he heard the commander shout, “Good luck, warrior!” Tarpals grinned.

  It wasn’t until Tarpals reached the top of the grassy hill that he learned a deep ravine seperated him from the second checkpoint. The watchtower was so close, Tarpals could have hit it with a rock, for all the good it would have done him. Now Tarpals knew why all of the other Big Nasty entrants had taken a different route from the swamp. Unless he could find a way to cross the ravine, there was little chance he would finish in the top one hundred of the competition.

  On Tarpals’s side of the ravine, a tall tree grew out of a rocky ledge, and several long vines dangled down from the tree’s higher branches. Tarpals imagined he could swing on a vine to the other side of the ravine.

  To make his way to the tree, Tarpals had to push his way through dense foliage. He stumbled on something and tumbled to the ground, right near a sheer drop into the ravine. He rose carefully to his feet, and saw that he’d tripped over several large ovoid stones. Suddenly, a loud squawking sound caused Tarpals to look up.

  A gigantic peko peko — an avian reptile with a six-meter wingspan — was swooping down from the sky. Tarpals realized he hadn’t tripped over stones after all. He was standing in the peko peko’s nest.

  He’d just tripped over her eggs.

  The flying reptile extended her claws and angled her descent to knock Captain Tarpals into the ravine. As the peko peko neared, Tarpals grabbed hold of her right leg and hung on for his life. The peko peko glided over the ravine, trying to shake the Gungan from her leg, but Tarpals held tight. Once he saw they’d crossed the ravine, he let go and fell to the ground, right near the old watchtower. The peko peko screeched and rose swiftly into the air, apparently satisfied that her eggs were once again safe.

  Tarpals pushed himself up from the ground and walked toward the watchtower. At the second checkpoint, an image recorder was set up on a tripod, and the recorder swiveled to monitor Tarpals’ approach and broadcast his image to the arena. Despite the presence of the image recorder, Tarpals wondered if he had arrived at the right place. He’d expected to see other Gungans passing the watchtower by now.

  Tarpals walked around the checkpoint, then looked south toward the swamp and Lake Umberbool. He saw several dozen Big Nasty contestants running up the hill. Much to his surprise, it seemed he was the first Gungan to arrive at the second checkpoint.

  Hoping to maintain his lead, Tarpals prepared to run to a nearby cliff — the site of the next stage of the race. But before he could take one step, one of the approaching athletes shouted, “Big Nasty cheater!”

  Although the Big Nasty had flexible rules, the rules had to be obeyed. If a contestant were suspected of cheating, the rules called for a temporary time-out until the matter could be investigated. Tarpals turned to face his fellow Big Nasty entrants as they approached the checkpoint.

  “What gooie-on?” Tarpals asked. “Whosa callen whoma cheater?”

  “Mesa callen yousa da cheater!” snarled a burly Gungan. “Dare-sa no way yousa cowdabe hair before uss-ens unless yousa cheat! Yousa not allowed to leave da route!
”

  Tarpals recognized the burly Gungan as Moppo Dop, a professional gulli-ball player. Tarpals didn’t see any need to get familiar, so he nodded toward the nearby ravine and declared, “Mesa come dat way.”

  “Dare-sa no trail dat way,” Moppo responded.

  “Mesa no taken any trail,” Tarpals answered. “Mesa hitch-ed a ride wit a peko peko.”

  Moppo Dop spat at Captain Tarpals’s feet. “Yousa cheater. Yousa fibber too! Wesa gonna settle dis Big Nasty style!”

  Tarpals knew there wasn’t any way he could convince the thick-skulled Moppo that he was telling the truth. The image recorder was on the wrong side of the watchtower to have recorded Tarpals’ journey over the ravine. He stood wrongfully accused of cheating and lying, and faced the possibility of expulsion from the Big Nasty Free-For-All. The only way to prove his innocence was to make the accuser renounce his words or defeat him in combat.

  “Cap’n Tarpals isa no guilty!” gasped a voice from the gathered crowd. Tarpals knew the voice and sighed. It was Jar Jar, who sounded more than a little out of breath from running up the hill. Jar Jar was the last Gungan on Naboo that Tarpals would ever want for a personal defense.

  “Aw, shut yousa talkity-trap, Binks!” said another Gungan. “Everybody know yousa sayen anyting to stay outen trouble wit Tarpals.”

  “How wude un false!” Jar Jar protested. “My see da peko peko carry Tarpals wit me own duey peepers!”

  As the other Gungans laughed at Jar Jar, Tarpals spotted Major Fassa. She wasn’t laughing, and she stared straight back at him. Tarpals gulped. Fassa looked concerned.

  “What wesa waiten for?” Moppo Dop asked as he jabbed Tarpals in the chest.