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.

Ruka was silent. His arms were crossed, and his eyes were closed. Perhaps, if he imagined he wasn’t there it would all magically disappear. He wished to be back in Selen, with the company of his love Corazon and caring for his children, rather than…

“Meesa muy ha… No, that’s not right.” Aru Law completely shattered the Mirialan’s concentration. “Meesa likes Otoh Gunga.”

The Qel-Droman Aedile was practicing his Gungan accent. He had stated, when they were flying to Naboo, that in order to better form relationships with other civilizations, it is a good gesture to practice their customs.

“But not to the point where it’s racist” Ruka thought, regretting ever accepting this assignment.

Darling, I hope this message finds you well. I will go straight to the point. I have sent Aru Law as a representative to Clan Arcona to Naboo, to initiate diplomatic talks with the Gungans. And I would like you to go, as an assurance that everything will go smoothly.

Short and to the point. However, what point? Had the Fire Lady completely lost it by sending that drunkard of a person to a diplomatic mission? Was her goal not to form an alliance with the Gungans?

Ruka grunted.

“You like it right?” Law smirked, thinking Ruka was appreciating his impersonations. “You should try it as well, It’ll make you more friendly. And maybe put on a smile, greenie!”

He opened one eye to assess their situation, and witnessed as Law reached for his bottle of whiskey and drank several sips from it. “You are driving for kark’s sake”

A few minutes later they saw the underwater capital, Otoh Gunga. Several bubble shaped domes of varying sizes shone with warm yellow and orange artificial lighting. Other submarines were passing by, either moving between domes, or leaving the city. Their submarine was headed towards the biggest one, where the government buildings were.

Ruka was the first to leave the submarine. He wore brown Jedi robes with steel plating for protection. However, those were robes recognised everywhere, usually meaning peace.

An envoy from the capital had been sent to escort them to the palace. The Gungan man was dressed in fine silk robes with yellow and blue ornaments over a dark orange base.

As Ruka approached to bow and greet the envoy, Aru Law cut him off.

“Heyday ho. Meesa Aru Law. Me liken Otoh Gunga very mui! Meesa pleased to meet yousa.”

Ruka felt the Force facepalm him hard as each word the Human spouted was more offensive than the previous one. And the accent was so off he couldn’t even pass as a Gungan from abroad. Obviously, the envoy noticed and glared at the Qel-Droman Aedile, but kept his composure. He would give him another chance.

“Master Ruka,” he spoke in perfect Common accent, “Master Law. It is an honor to welcome you to the great capital city of Otoh Gunga. We hope your stay here with us is as pleasant as it can be.”

“Thank you Lord Igue,” said Ruka, with a polite gesture. At least he had studied who they were meeting beforehand. The Mirialan then offered a small blazon with Arcona’s insignia engraved upon. “A token from our Consul.”

“Meesa hopes yousa likes it!” Aru intervened.

“Aru!” Ruka yelled. “Where do you think you are?”

“Why at Otoh Gunga obviously? Yousa not know?” Law kept his attempt of an accent going.

“You know what? No! Not this time.” Ruka turned towards the Aedile and raised a clenched fist to punch Law in the jaw. “You’ve been needing this for a long time.”

Before he could discipline the Gray Jedi however, the Gungan envoy raised his arm. Four armed soldiers that were stationed behind him immediately targeted them both. “Get them!” he yelled.

The Mirialan sensed bolts flying in their direction, He would dodge them easily, but Law? He was too drunk to even tell where those bolts were coming from. So the Sith lunged forward and kicked Law back with both his feet.

As the Human fell to the floor, two red bolts flew past him. And Ruka managed to just barely rotate his body mid flight in order to avoid the bolts aimed at him.

“What was that for?” Law yelled, going for his blaster.

“The idiot doesn’t understand!” Ruka pulled out four different colored blades from inside his robe and threw them in the air, one by one, keeping them in place as they went. “Four guards, four blades.” With tenacious concentration, a green wavy blade, a purple sword, a red kukri and a hunting knife flew in different directions. Each one hit right on target. Ruka’s eyes darted rapidly in several directions, constantly alternating between each guard. He had managed to hit them all non lethally, only enough to incapacitate them.

Move

He ducked an incoming blaster bolt. But this one came from…

“Law!” he should have guessed. “What in the karks name are you doing?”

Aru stood straight, with his body turned sideways to make it harder to target. In his hand, he held Alana, his Monlitzer S-195 Blaster Pistol. The gun was fitted with a silencer, which usually resulted in his enemies not even knowing he had shot it before being hit.

“Oh, you’re good.” Aru said. “But you just attacked four innocent guards. I can’t let that pass.”

Ruka felt another Force facepalm. “Does his stupidity know no bounds?”

“Look Aru, I’m just gonna say this once.” he tried to explain. “You’ve got it all wrong, so don’t make it even harder for us to get out of here alive.”

Aru fired another bolt from his blaster. Ruka dodged it easily. His blades had now returned to his side, and hovered behind him. Another bolt. Aru was firing bolts in short intervals, taking one step closer to the Mirialan at a time.

“He does know his strategies.” Ruka thought. He didn’t want to kill the Human, unless it absolutely was necessary. But he knew his marksmanship skills. Even drunk, Aru was known to accurately hit his targets with relative ease. He watched as the Qel-Droman Aedile grabbed his second blaster.

Aru now had Titania in his other hand. It was a modified Blastech RSKF-44 Heavy Blaster Pistol that had bigger cooling vents on its sides, allowing for a super rapid rate of fire, an improvement he surely was using, as he fired a volley of bolts so quickly it almost looked like an horizontal wave of bolts was going in the Mirialan’s direction.

Ruka was forced to draw his lightsaber and deflect some of the bolts, as he wasn’t quick enough to put his body out of harm's way.

“Put down your blades Ruka.” Aru ordered. “Do not resist.”

“You’ve gotta be joking right?” the Mirialan wasn’t taking any of this. “Fine. I’ll deal with you first, then take care of this mess you’ve gotten us into.”

Ruka sent his blades flying in Aru’s direction, but they bounced on an invisible wall and lost momentum. However, the Sith took the moment of concentration Aru needed to defend the attack to close his distance to him and slashed hard into that same barrier.

Aru knew it wouldn’t hold against the strength and voracity of the Mirialan’s attacks, so he took the last remaining strength of his barrier to reach for his own lightsaber and ignited it just on time to parry Ruka’s downward slash.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Green and blue flashed.

You complete kriffing IDIOT.

Plasma flickered, sputtered, sang.

Can't you go on one goddamn mission for these people without kriffing it up? Can't you do one thing right, FOR ONCE?

Outside, the cold, dark water was endless, crushing, still. But inside, their sabers met and locked and tore away again in a furious, bright clamor.

Why do you have to be so stupid? Ruka thought at himself in frustration. One second. Two. That's all it had taken him to sense the shots, to think threat, and to respond with weapons free. He was on a diplomatic escort, for Bogan and Ashla's sakes.

Even if it was to escort as big of an idiot and drunk as Law.

"You're gonna pay for my drinks— er, this? This! Pay for this! Scoon...scnrd...soundrel!" Aru yelled in his face, breath reeking of whiskey.

And the worst part was, Aru was actually right.

The shouting of wounded soldiers rang in the background, and it was his fault. He'd reacted like that. He'd lost his temper with Law. Thankfully, their robed escort had fled almost right away, so at least that was one less person for Ruka to hurt. Less thankfully, it probably meant they had only minutes before Lord Igue had even more soldiers on them, soldiers who would be told a couple of violent men were already attacking their fellows, and he doubted they would be shooting to stun.

He had to figure out some way to surrender so they wouldn't both get killed on sight, and then deal with just how badly they'd messed up Lucine's relations with the Gungans.

But first—

"I was trying to help you!" the Mirialan yelled back at the Aedile as their weapons met again, Ruka's rearing back for another hammering strike. The Human wasn't fast, and he was swaying more than he was actually performing any footwork, but he still managed to spin his green-bladed saber in a perfect parry, bouncing Ruka's away with the circular motion.

Baring his teeth, the Sith twisted on his heel, bringing his saber low and around with two hands to slam it up into Aru's. Law's blade flew out of his broken grip with the force of the disarming blow.

"Youch! Ah, no!" Aru yelped, reaching as naturally as breathing for blasters that weren't on his hips. His yellow eyes blinked, confused, then darted frantically to where he'd dropped the pistols when he grabbed his lightsaber. The Mirialan was on him in that instant, disengaging blue plasma in order to spin and slam an elbow into his diaphragm.

The Human collapsed, gasping and gaping in air-deprived silence, his expression a rictus of pain as he clutched at his chest. Ruka sneered at him and grabbed the stuncuffs off of his belt, yanking the man's arms behind him none too gently and clicking them shut around flesh and cybernetic. They locked with a snick, and the Sith left him sitting there, hesitating only long enough to gather his blades before running to check on the Gungans he'd attacked earlier.

He had bacta. Only three small doses for small injuries to share between four guards, and he didn't know how deep his blades had gone, pinning feet and knocking weapons from hands, but it was something.

"I'm sorry," the Mirialan rushed out, approaching the bloodied four who were busy helping each other up and regrouping, reaching for dropped armaments. "Here, please, let me help—"

One of them jabbed an electropole at him. He ducked it, held his hands up, palms out.

"Please! This is— it's a mistake, we didn't mean—"

Hissing something gurgling and angry at him, the lead guard charged the pole and lanced for him again. Ruka danced back.

"Just—"

"Hideeho! Guards! It be meesa, Lord Iggy!" Lord Igue appeared suddenly around the corner. Or, was it him? This Gungan wore green robes. He was sure Igue had been wearing orange. Orange with gold and blue... "Come! Weesa retreat muy muy fasta bombom!"

The Gungans held up their electropoles and spears in warning, warding Ruka back as they looked between him and their superior. They seemed somewhat confused, but at Igue's spastic arm waving, they scrambled after him, limping out of sight towards the administrative buildings.

"Kriff," the Mirialan muttered. Huffing, the Sith turned back towards where he'd left the disaster of an Aedile, but the only thing sitting there were the damned stuncuffs. The blasters were gone too, and the saber, dammit.

Of kriffing course he can escape cuffs, the Mirialan thought in irritation, angry at his own shortsightedness. Should've taken the weapons. Should've made sure Law was knocked out.

Ruka drew his saber again and ignited it, falling back into a guard, head on a swivel. Dodging Aru's aim was bad enough when he could see the franger, he was doomed if the man got the drop on him.

Twisting around and scanning the area, his violet eyes tracked from building to building, strange, membranous lamp to lamp, shadow to shadow. It was quiet without the guards, save the lap of water, the hum of his lightsaber. The air was warm and muggy, damp-smelling. And something else, a familiar smell he loathed to his bones.

Ruka inhaled deeply.

Whiskey.

He pivoted right, sharp. There. A shimmer of movement out of the corner of his eye.

The Sith lashed out a hand, sending pinwheeling plasma past the shimmer. Something sparked and burnt along a molten orange line, and Aru shouted as he suddenly rematerialized out of nothing. He had his saber unlit in one hand, having been creeping up, and the other went to the back of his head where a smoke trail mingled with the stink of smoldering hair. His ponytail laid on the ground, and his tresses fell loose around his chin.

"WHAT THE HELL?" he yelled. "That is IT! I washn't gonna let yousa hurt those Gungies anymore, be NICE taking you in, but now! Now, it's personal—"

Ruka cut him off by diving forward to slash at him, saber touching back to his palm even as he moved, trusting in the Force. The Aedile backpedaled with speed that belied his drunken state. With a hiccup, he disappeared before Ruka's eyes, swallowed by a shimmer and then just gone.

The Sith skidded to a stop mid-lunge and swore. "You can't keep running!"

"I'm not!"

Green plasma burst to life and swept at his back, but Ruka was already twisting past it, movements echoing the black bell peals of warning the Dark Side offered him. Drawing one of his crystalline blades with his empty hand, the Sith caught Aru's lightsaber overhead, shoving the locked blades high and holding them away while he struck out low.

"Not the balls!" Aru shouted in protest when Ruka's kukri swiped close, aiming to slice through the idiot's gun belt and really disarm him this time. The Aedile wiggled just enough that he missed. "Anything else is fair game but not, ah! Not the balls! You don't see me aiming for your mangina!" The Human's face scrunched, hazy eyes squinting. "Or is that Corbo? Corzie? Corda? Whatever, whichever one of you is the girl—"

The Mirialan punched him in the face.

Law hit the ground again, on his rear this time, red blood running freely from the pancaked mess of his nose and all down his mouth and neck. Ruka's hand shook with the urge to hit him again, harder this time, in the teeth. Maybe if he broke his jaw, he'd finally shut up.

Cora's golden gaze and disappointed expression flashed behind Ruka's eyes. The Jedi hated violence, even on his behalf— especially then. And Ruka...Ruka hated it too. Knew better.

Belting the kukri and deactivating his saber, he exchanged it for the short, plain hunting knife he normally kept in his boot and stalked forward. Snatching up a fistful of fitted robes at the junction of the man's neck and shoulder, he used the knife to pin the fabric in place.

"Stay. Down," the Mirialan growled, jamming the blade into the dense, organic ground with amplified superhuman strength. The steel sunk a solid two inches to the hilt. "Stay down, stay here, stay quiet. Hide yourself if you can string two kriffing thoughts together long enough while I go surrender for us and maybe we won't die today."

Aru's reply was a wet, choking wheeze. Ruka pinched his jaw between two fingers and turned his head for him so he could spit huge gobs of mucus and blood. He unbuckled the gunslinger's belt one-handed while Law spat up and tried to breathe, tossing it away.

"Fool me once," he muttered, and glanced around, looking for any of the militia he was expecting. He didn't see them yet, but the stuncuffs were still there, and he summoned them to hand with barely a thought. They were going back on, with the electronics primed this time.

Law gurgled something, spat again. Whined more insistently.

"What?" Ruka snapped, and looked down, and—

A flicker. Blue skin and saffron eyes and blood. Under his hand.

"I s...s-said...y-you're hurting me, Ruka baby," a not-right voice whimpered.

For a blink, the Mirialan froze, horror roaring up and smothering him, smothering warnings, smothering anything else.

And then the flat side of a hand chopped right into his throat, and he fell back, gagging. There was a long sound of ripping cloth, and then Aru — not Cora, not Cora, not Cora — was swaying wildly over him, bloody and grinning.

"Fool you LOTS, baaaaby. Meesa luv ya,"* he joked, then winced, his smile pulling at the mess of swelling and blood and snot and tears that was his face. "Ow, ow, ow owwww…that's, ow, for me muy beauty hair! And, uh, the Gungans. Whatever. Shouldsa seen your face. Geez, fraidee frog."

Ruka stared.

Then, he balled his fist and screamed, slamming it forward with a riptide of the Dark Side behind it. The sledgehammer of telekinetic force caught Aru and flung him like a ragdoll, limbs splayed, body curled. He impacted the wall of a building across the square with a flesh-muted crack, dropping from a shallow crater in the spongy material.

The Sith climbed back to his feet, eyes blazing gold, lightning crackling and leaping while it gathered in his palms.

It seemed Law was right twice today.

Now, now it was personal.

The Mirialan closed his distance slowly. Each step carefully taken. His eyes met Law’s and he saw determination. The Aedile really was set on fighting him. And worst, he believed he was doing the right thing!

One by one, Ruka’s weapons floated in a circle around him, as he prepared his next attack, thinking ahead of what possible ways there were to exploit Aru’s weaknesses.

On Aru’s side, the Aedile had his lightsaber on his hand, a green blade buzzing softly. He stood motionless. The recent adrenaline shock had cured his drunkenness and made him completely aware of his surroundings. That was not without backdraws though, as a massive headache was starting to form, and he could feel it.

The Human went back into his basics. He knew Ruka was a formidable fighter. He had read a lot about the Sith, on his sleepless nights aboard the Mercorn. He knew how Juyo practitioners fought. They let their emotions dictate their movements. And Ruka was pretty pissed.

There was no more time to think. They were at lightsaber’s reach. Predicting his first move, Aru quickly covered his back with an invisible wall. And at a good time it came, seeing as two of Ruka’s blades hit it without a sound, and fell to the floor. But the Mirialan didn’t need them. He lunged forward and pointed his saber at Law’s legs. With a quick rotation, the Aedile parried the blow and diverted the Mirialan’s blade outwards and away from his body.

“Like a true Soresu Master.”

There was another blow. Parried. And another. Deflected. This time two. Aru ducked the first one, and swung his blade up to meet the Sith’s own.

Ruka picked up the pace of his attacks. And so did Law, resorting to full defense stances. Both knew they wouldn’t get anywhere.

“When the sharpest blade meets the sturdiest shield, combat is pointless.”

Aru knew this. Ruka knew this. But still, they kept at it. One delusioned by his own stupidity. The other, having broken from his chains of anger.

Two blades met, and a yellow bright light formed as sparks flew out from it, flashing rapidly on their faces. Ruka was strong. his determination could be worn like armor. He forced Aru on one knee to be able to withstand the power of his attack.

“But emotion can blind you.”

Ruka either saw it and ignored it, or failed to see it altogether. Perhaps too blinded by rage, perhaps sure that he was going to win no matter what. But nonetheless, he allowed Law to grab his Sith dagger and stab him on his right leg. He grunted with pain and his strength failed him. Law took the opportunity to rise back up and headbutt the Mirialan in the nose.

“This is payback!” he yelled.

POP

Law lost his balance completely. He fell back, trying to hold his head up. The impact had completely backfired. His headache seemed to flood his mind like a rushing river in a storm.

Ruka took the opportunity to remove the dagger stuck in his leg. He closed his eyes and focused on the Force, pushing the pain away. Then it was time to put an end to that fight. He closed his hand, like pressing hard on a very durable object. A plasma ball started forming on his hand.

The Mirialan felt sweat run down from his forehead and mixing with his bloody nose. He could taste the pain caused by Law. Too much trouble for an insignificant piece of kark.

He lifted his hand and opened it, releasing the violent storm that had been compacted in the plasma ball. Bolts of lightning expanded outwards, trying to reach for the nearest conductive material. The Mirialan commanded the lightning to focus on one point in his finger and pointed towards Law.

Zap

The arching wave of light missed its target. On purpose. Ruka looked down on his opponent. Law was struggling to breathe. Gasping for air pathetically and twisting around, holding to his…

Heart!

Something inside Ruka took over his actions, for there was no possible way He would rush to Law’s aid. The Sith knelt besides him and touched his chest. He immediately identified what was happening and without thinking, turned him on his side.

“Kark fraking damnit Law!” he grunted. “Now?”

He got no response. The Human had lost his strength and was no longer gasping for air. Ruka turned him around again and tried to feel his pulse. His experienced hand could feel it almost anywhere on his body. He opted for the neck. “There’s pulse.”. Although faint.

The Sith cleaned the sweat from his hands and then pressed them together. As he unclasped them, small bolts of lightning ran across his fingers. He took a deep breath and pushed against Law’s chest. The jolts passed through him and ran across the Aedile’s body.

“Ah!” The reflex caused Law to raise his arms quickly, one of them punching Ruka in the jaw.

The Mirialan pinned him down again.

“Calm down!” he urged him. “You wanna die that badly?”

“Let me go! What the hell is going on?” His breathing pattern was all over the place, and panic was starting to take over.

“Oi!” Ruka yelled, imposing his presence. “Look at me. Breathe in slowly, there you go. Now hold it. Four seconds, with me, yes. Now breathe out. Take it slow. Repeat.”

He obeyed. Then he succumbed to tiredness.

---

He opened them again, not knowing how much time had passed. Ruka was in the distance, having a conversation with some of the guards. And there was an holograph there too.

Having noticed him, the Sith walked towards Law.

“We’re leaving.” he said, bluntly.

“Just that?” Aru questioned

“Yes, just that.” He wasn’t in the mood for talks.

“No ‘You owe me?’ or ‘you´re a karking idiot useless piece of scum?’ nothing?”

“No.” Ruka was back his usual controlled self. “We’re leaving.”

“Why’d you save me?”

“Shut it!” He too was questioning himself.

“I can’t get up…” Law said. His voice was weak and he had almost no strength at all.

With a sigh, the Mirialan picked him up and carried him away, back into the submarine.

“Is this how you carry Cora to bed?” Law still had the audacity of making jokes.

But he got no response.

“Thanks.” Aru finally said. None looked into each other.

The storm was inside him, an answer and echo born of every emotion, every feeling— the anger, fear, love, worry, desperation, self-hate, anxiety, and guilt. It all boiled up like towering clouds, vast as the horizon, winds strong enough to fling boulders and rip up trees, thunder booming, lightning raging, just under his skin.

He lifted both hands, threw them out, and just let it all go with a shout, like an exhale, like he could finally breathe.

Light lanced across the square towards the Human wobbling to his feet, exploding not into the man himself but into the ground below him. Tiny chips of sediment burst into the air and pitted the walls and street. Aru gave a gurgling scream of pain as miniature red rips streaked across his flesh, and even angry, the Mirialan cringed. His scars ached. He knew the agony of a shrapnel bomb a little too well.

This wasn't that, but he still hoped it franging hurt.

"It's Corazon," Ruka began in a slow snarl, enunciating each word, "and you're going to keep his name and mine out of your mouth, you pathetic puuja. You're never going to talk about my family again."

The Sith strode forward, watching as Aru stumbled back into the wall, blood blooming from oh-so-many shallow cuts. He bared his teeth at the smuggler while Law braced himself, convulsed, looked like he might vomit or faint. Ruka thought of Eilen's stories, her pinched shoulders and hunched pose bowing inward while she confessed to hiding in her room again because her Aedile had come onboard. He thought of Sven telling them about the missions, about the mockery and the way Law just disappeared when they started getting shot at. His fists clenched at his sides, shaking, the electricity in his veins quaking to be unleashed once more.

But Aru was already bloody, bent over, and gagging. Ruka swallowed, made himself stop, and spoke again.

"You're a danger to everyone around you and the fact that Lucine Vasano or anyone else has ever given you a single kriffing piece of power is an insult and a danger too. You know, my apprentice is on your crew, and so is my second son. I hear what you do. I know you're not just drunk this time here with me, you're drunk all the time. I know that you're a kriffing lech to women and don't even notice you make some of your people uncomfortable. I know you run off and you carry live weapons and explosives while you're drunk and you put people who you've been trusted with, TRUSTED WITH, for some reason I can't goddamn understand, in danger. Nevermind you impersonated me, and put my family in danger in turn. You're as bad as some of the slavers I've had to kill. Maybe I should be making that call. Maybe it'd be the real right thing to do. I don't kriffing know. But I do know you shouldn't be an Aedile, Law. You shouldn't be out on the streets. You oughta be rotting in some cell next to the other frangers who decide to hurt other people."

"...annns...nns...you s'd...ya said I talky muy too muchy," Aru wheezed, spitting bile and mucus. The Human tipped his head back, showing bloody, slimy teeth all in a wide grin, shorn hair stuck to his chin with the spittle. "Git kark'd."

Klaxons roared in Ruka's mind.

One heartbeat, and Aru's eyes went past him.

A second, and his hand lifted. Ruka's own came back up, his body pivoting.

On the third, the smuggler's discarded gunbelt flew into his palm, and he quick-drew one of the blasters and fired off the hip without even aiming, all in one motion.

Klaxons roared, and in four heartbeats, plasma passed under him as the Mirialan threw himself into the air. Even before he landed there were more bolts, and it was all he could do to leap again, twisting and touching down and flattening on the ground and then kicking back up.

Aru pushed off the building, both blasters in his hands now, stumbling and shooting. Ruka got his saber in hand and ignited the blue blade, retreating from the barrage and blocking what he couldn't side-step. The Human just kept shooting, even when one of his guns started to whine and pop, the power coils becoming overtaxed. It sputtered, if just for a second, and the Sith took the chance to lunge forward, slashing at Law to drive him back instead. Again and again, back across the square. A bolt skimmed Ruka's side. His saber glanced over Aru's arm. They both hissed as cloth burned to skin.

But Aru's other, bulkier blaster was doing just fine, and while the one rested as he let off the trigger, that one kept spitting. Ruka ducked, slid, leaving green skin and a trail of red speckling behind. Then, up again, pushing off the ground with a surge of supernatural strength to pinwheel over another salvo. Red plasma scorched across his shoulder pauldron, burning through to graze his bicep, a vicious hot sting. His lightsaber came a hair's breadth from taking Law's hand clean off, the motion only aborted because he wanted to, wanted to take away this man's ability to hurt his family, and that wasn't right.

"Give up," he snapped, batting away another bolt. For a long moment, Law paused and stared at Ruka, face twisting up tight, like he was conflicted.

But then Aru just sneered, swaying, and took another step back as he went to take another shot. That last step, however, put his back heel over the edge of nothing, and with a wobble and all of a yelp, the Aedile overbalanced and went over the ledge of the island, splashing down loudly into the water below.

"Oh, for Bogan's sake!" Ruka swore, darting over. The surface of the water where the Aedile had disappeared thrashed and bubbled, then went still. He narrowed his eyes, watching, waiting.

...and waiting.

Did he swim away? the Mirialan thought. Then, Can he NOT swim? Is he too drunk? Too hurt? Did he swim down?

He searched the water more frantically, but he couldn't see anything of Law. Not even a shadow, no movement, nothing.

"KARK!" Ruka exclaimed, tearing off his cloak and holsters, and dove in after him.

Everything went dark. The water was freezing cold, nearly forcing a gasp out of him that would've drowned him too. It filled his nostrils, his ears. His eyes burned, but he forced them to stay open, searching, searching, reaching.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing!

Could he really have gone that far? Sunk like a stone? How heavy was his gear? Kriff, kriff, kriff! Goddammit, Law!

His chest absolutely burned, and he was too frantic to stall his breathing. The Sith twisted and propelled himself back to the surface, gulping in another lungful of air when he broke it. Before he could dive back down, though, his senses screamed yet again.

Ruka wrenched aside, but the drag of the water slowed him just a fraction too much. Something hot burned into his right arm and he cried out, grasping that shoulder and thrashing his legs to keep his head above water when he dipped down. Spitting a brackish mouthful, the Mirialan swiveled in the direction from which the shot had come, and found himself staring up at Aru and down the barrel of a blaster.

"Made yousa looky," Aru drawled, completely and infuriatingly dry and not in danger of drowning. He waved the pistol at Ruka's face, touching the tip to the Sith's nose while he crouched at the lip of the ledge. "Climb...hurk...ooooh, that hurt my like, brain, ooh, might throw up on ya, hah, but you're already green. Ugh." The Human belched, the smell like bile, and swallowed. Waved his gun again. "Now do what I says or Alana gonna get ya! Get outta there and give yourself up to my amazingness! Lawbreaker! Hehe. But not Law-breaker. Get it? Cause— 'Cause you didn't break me. I beat, hic, you. I'm a master of illuuussshuns."

"You're a franger, is what you are," Ruka hissed.

"Tut ut ut! Muy badsa language, heh! Sshtay in there then for yousaaa."

Aru stood up, keeping the pistol on a bead with Ruka's head while he treaded water. He started rifling through the Mirialan's things, wiping off his bloody face on Ruka's cloak and even blowing his broken nose in it. Palmed the bacta kit. Tossed around his communicator and threw his holocam into the water to join him. Ruka nearly lunged at that one, but a warning shot exploding into steam an inch from his face tempered him again.

His teeth were starting to chatter, and the hole in his arm pulsed painfully. Aru finally got around to his weapons, twirling the sapphire blade clumsily in one hand.

"You know, I always bet these things were actually candy. Look at 'em! Nothing but candy gets that color. And you're all wah wah wah what about the kids and stuff. So you MUST be giving them candy. I have a bet with my Mistress — that's Alaisy, the new Herald, by the way, she's amazing — that they'll taste like candy. She told me to lick it and find out. If I'm right, I get to keep the latex maid outfit she got for Zig. Why's it for her, y'know? I was her student! And I liked wearing it while she had me clean up the office. 'Course if she's right she gets my soul or something but who cares, she already has it! So, let's see…" He snickered. And. Actually lifted the blade to his mouth.

There's no way this is happening, he's screwing with me, Ruka thought, only to watch it happen as Law actually stuck out his tongue and licked the sword. He screeched in pain almost immediately, blood dripping from his mouth as he dropped the weapon, recoiling.

"Tha's nuh bwooberry!"

"I hate you," the Mirialan told him, and meant it. Not for the stupidity on display, but for everything else. His shivering was getting worse. He kept his gaze between the gun on him and anything, anything that could help...

Aru picked the gladius back up. Ruka lifted his hand from his bleeding shoulder, eyes on the sapphire sword's hilt, and—

"Uh uh uh!" Aru slurred, twisting to hide the blade behind his back, breaking Ruka's line of sight, kriff. "Nug uh, y'don' get t'go magh'ic handin' thish back."

Something glinted, though, just there from Aru's robe pocket, revealed when he contorted. The lip of a bottle. Through all this, the Aedile had kept his damn flask on him. How kriffing fitting.

Ruka willed it out of that pocket and into the air and slammed it right into the Human's temple. Aru dropped like a sack. The blaster didn't go off.

The blaster didn't go off.

The Mirialan swore viciously, tension and relief and adrenaline snapping his ribs like twigs, making his heart hurt. His limbs felt so heavy as he swam the few feet forward and clawed his way back up onto the platform, dropping to hands and knees beside Aru's prone form and just leaning there for a second, just a second, just a second he was so tired couldn't he have that much?

No, he reminded himself, his old mantra, the same one he'd had since he was ten years old and holding a baby in his arms for the first time. Get up! Get up. Do it for them.

He needed to get up. To deal with Law. And the Gungans, and their guards. There were still the guards. It wasn't safe…

Ruka pushed himself off the ground, dripping a whole slew of water and squirting blood from the hole in his bicep. His muscles tried to lock, but he forced the Dark through them and made them move, made himself stand and gather up his things as quickly as he could. He only slowed at all when Aru started groaning, waking to what was probably a lot of pain and grabbing at his skull. The Mirialan stared down at him, considering— everything. The booze. The day. The fight. Every word and taunt and his broken temper. The hurt guards and the ruined mission and the threat to his family.

He thought about it all, and he picked up Aru's blasters too.

"You know," he began, trying to judge how well the Human was even listening. Seemed to be. The groan and glare helped, but his eyes were going different directions. "You know, people only name what's important to them, what that really mean something. You named your guns. Alana, you said? And this one, Queen? Whatever that is. So here's how this is gonna go. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't give a damn if I threatened you. Too kriffing full of yourself. But I can take away something you really care about. I could toss these in the ocean out there or out my airlock or into a damn volcano and you wouldn't be able to do no damn thing to stop me. I want you to remember that feeling, ay. Remember helpless and hurting. Cause that's what you do to your people when you're running around smashed on the job." He carefully looked for the safety like he'd been instructed a few times, made sure it was on each, and then tucked the weapons into his belt. "You can have these back when you retire, IF and WHEN you get your frang together on missions. I don't give one flying frack if you drink yourself to death on your own time. I'd really rather you did. But when it's active duty and you got the Qel-Dromans following you into hostile situations? You're sober. You hear me? On the job with my apprentices or my kid or anyone you're in charge of, you are kriffing sober, or these guns? They gone. They'll disappear. Got me? You being clear headed keeps them safe, and your people too, not that you give a damn about them."

It didn't feel like enough. It felt ridiculous. Taking away a toy, that was something he had done when Noga and Leda were four. Aru was a grown man, a criminal, unstable and ruthless and dangerous, even if he was an idiot.

He flexed his hands, felt the lightning beneath.

It didn't feel like enough, but it was going to have to be.

He'd get back to the surface and then contact Lucine, tell her everything that happened and see what she wanted him to do next. He wasn't a diplomat. Better people needed to figure this one out.

But in the meantime... He glanced at Law, looking at him with murder in his closing eyes, then turned away. In the meantime, Law could sober up and swell up under the care of a Gunganese jail cell. The Gungans didn't just execute people, right? He was fairly sure that wasn't a thing with them, so a couple hours should be safe.

And maybe then, when he was up on the surface, alone and secure and dry, maybe then he could just sit down and scream.