Unlike the Gungan’s submerged capital below Naboo, Jan-gwa rests partially underwater; the majority of the city remaining above the water’s surface. A waterfall runs along the cliffs behind Jan-gwa, creating a veil of mist around the base of the city’s rounded platforms. Nocturnally illuminated, domed structures encompass the center of each platform and are home to Jan-gwa’s Gungan inhabitants. Some of the these structures extend below the water’s surface, creating an anchor that keeps Jan-gwa from floating with the currents and provides shelter to hundreds of Gungans.

Etched into the cliff walls are several faces of unknown origin. Resembling a humanoid with unembellished features, these carvings are not reminiscent of the city’s Gungan inhabitants—perhaps an indication that some other civilization might have resided near the floating city.

"Wow."

A tiny, black-furred face pressed right up against the transparisteel of a port window.

"Wow!"

Glittering, bright eyes turned to the exposed, bronze-colored pipes running the length of the vessel far, far overhead, at greater heights than he could ever reach.

"Wow!"

Itty bitty paws scurried as the young man ran to a curiously squishy, fungi-like seat and jumped up, huffing with effort as his arms hooked over the edge. He dangled for a moment before pulling himself up with a grunt, and then stood on top for a look out a different portcullis at more of the dark, vast waters outside.

"Wow!"

Tyk was utterly enthralled. He had never been in such a device before, but the submersible was much like a ship in structure, at least on the surface. But the construction! And the variables! They were several leagues underwater! It was surrounded by pressure, instead of in a vacuum.

Amazing!

And so many things to see too! Plants waved in the water out there. Fish swam by. Bigger shapes too. One, dark and massive and lithe, passed right by the window. It surely brushed the submarine! Wow.

The Ewok was called back from his distraction by a ping on his datapad. He looked down at it, then remembered. Right. It was his turn. The person he was playing against had nudged him.

Impatient, aren't you? he thought, but that was alright. It had only been a few minutes! Probably. Surely! They'd been playing rapidly back and forth since his boss dropped him off here on Naboo for 'aquatic training,' but once he'd boarded the sightseeing vessel, he'd stopped.

Tyk had finally managed to beat his last game of a growing Hutt that got bigger and had to avoid eating its own tail. He'd switched to another, a word game, but it was cooperative and used the holonet. Work't wouldn't play with him, the grumpy old git, despite saying he needed to study.

The signal connectivity range was short; whoever he played was on Naboo too. And they were good.

The submarine wobbled as it breached the surface -- wow! -- and returned to the floating city of Jan-gwa. Tyk continued to ignore his datapad as he disembarked, taking in all the sights and asking questions of the pilot and engineers that the gigantic, towering Gungans didn't answer. Maybe because they didn't understand him. Oh well. As the little mechanic padded as fast as his little legs could carry him down the gangplank and onto the spongey ground, he gazed about at strange glowing lamps and strange round squishy buildings and floppy people tall as trees. Mostly it was Gungans, but as he watched, a creature emerged from the water. He gaped, and debated running over to view the thing, but thought better of it, in case it ate him.

It was MASSIVE. Horns and tentacles! All black except some spots and with red eyes and big teeth. Definitely a predator. Wow.

And then it stood up. Wow! A bipedal thing! Surely as big as a building.

And then it pulled out a datapad and started typing on it. Tyk noticed it was wearing soaked clothes, and had guns on the belt.

Oh, a person. Still cool!

His datapad pinged again.

The Ewok frowned, huffing a little to himself. He supposed he should take his turn, as it would only be polite before sightseeing.

Moving a little bit to the side of the dock, he found a spot to sit down and plopped there on his bum. Then he opened the game.

His opponent was a LOT of points ahead of him. They'd been staying close, but they'd pulled ahead, apparently.

What kind of word was QUINCUNX? And why was it so many points? No fair!

Tyk stared, considering his options. As his mind began to wonder, he let his eyes glance around for inspiration. They landed again on the mighty aquatic person, and watched them press on their datapad.

His own pinged again.

Huh.

Coincidence?

Standing, the Ewok approached on toddling legs, waving a paw.

"Excuse me!" he called in his thickly-accented basic that his boss insisted he practice speaking. "Excuse me, there! HI! I have a question for you."

The giant turned towards him. Its horns pierced the heavens. It turned its head down until great red orbs beamed down upon him.

Tyk waved.

The person didn't speak. It went back to its datapad.

"Um excuse me? I said hello! Just a minute of time!"

The behemoth turned the pad down towards him, showing the screen. Like a great holoboard, it displayed:

What do you want?

Then it pointed at its mouth, shook its head, then pointed at its ear area and back at the screen.

"Oh. I suppose typing works!"

Tyk opened his pad and did the same thing, holding it up with both arms outstretched as far as he could, standing on the tips of his paw pads. The creature crouched down to read, like an avalanche of rock down a mountain.

Hi. Do you happen to be user [afrakingliterateamphibian] on War of Words?

The metal-poked brows of the creature lifted. It looked between their two datapads, considering something, then narrowed eyes at the Ewok.

I can hear you. Typing unnecessary on your part. Confirm, that's me. Are you [tyk1111111111]?

"Oh, yes!" Tyk exclaimed. "Hey, cool! Oh. What kind of word is...keencoo-ex?"

A muscle in the other's face twitched, right by the eye. Maybe something got in it. They hadn't blinked once this whole time.

A sensible word. You're welcome for the expanded vocabulary. It is pronounced ˈkwinˌkəNG(k)s'. Like kwin-cuhnx. X makes kss sound. Means an arrangement of five objects with four at the corners of a rectangle and the fifth at its center. Imagine the pips of a sabacc die.

"Oh. Cool! That's neat." There were plenty of shapes like that in tools. Cool! "Well then...game on!"

His tongue stuck out the side of his mouth slightly as he thought furiously, staring at his own game screen. He arranged letters and then pressed play.

The other's datapad didn't make noise, but the creature did look at it. Brows rose again. Then it scowled at him, and began typing.

The hell word is that?

"It's Ewokese," Tyk said brightly. "You agreed to play with the dictionary! So you're welcome also for the vocabulary."

"Hrm," his opponent grunted, making actual noise. It stared extra hard at Tyk, narrowed eyes, then nodded in respect and bent over its pad.

Only seconds later, the game pinged.

The battle was on!

Tyk stared in confusion at another mess of Nautolan text, the weird red eyed tentacle thing (So cool!) having typed in another of their strange words. Tyk returned the Ewok word for a medical condition that caused itching of the armpit, causing a narrowing of the eyes from Foxen.

Two can play at that game It typed back, slamming in a word for an ancient style of dress involving frills for the head tentacles. Tyk put in a type of Ewok stew, which was a disappointing low point score. The game continued, word after word of obscure multilingual exchange.

Before he could come up with anything to help himself, the creature had chipped in a 241-232 lead and won the game.

“Alright! Good game!” He said, grinning. What fun! This…man? Woman? They were so talented! “But I have an even better idea now we’re together in person! C’mon.” He grabbed for Foxen’s hand. Foxen gave Tyk the look and he rethought that particular plan. Still, the giant followed him as he led them into the grand arcade near the dock.

Foxen would disagree it was grand, of course. But then those extra feet of height remove a lot of scale from things.

Tyk walked by many machines, the two being given a wide berth by the other shortlings in the arcade and their parents. Some machines bore fake blasters, one had a cage with a “lightsaber” made of cheap plastic and a dummy to hit with it. But the machine Work’t took them to had two sets of four large arrow pads with a circle for the user to stand in between each set. On the top was emblazoned; “Dance Dance Rebellion!”

Tyk looked up at the giant. The giant looked down at the Ewok. The Ewok seemed to be vibrating with excitement. Foxen considered refusing but…well. The kid looked enthusiastic. And he was decent at Scrabaak. They both stepped into their respective rings, onlookers beginning to circle.

The first song, “Sonareactive” wasn’t too hard. A upbeat chill song with a heavy reverb beat. It was marked as a medium song but being a machine for actual children, not fully mature if slightly immaturely behaved Ewok’s and more then fully grown Nautolans. The two both stuck in and slammed their feet in time to the band (Imagine Drakes) music and perfected the song.

The two turned to stare and each other and the challenge was evident in both eyes. The crowd thickened as the next song started up, “Mad about me”, an old hit from a far-off desert world. The crowd watched as the two again slammed their feet in time to the jazzy music, Tyk wildly with almost childish glee, Foxen with serious calculated strikes that resembled martial arts more then dancing. Once again, they both perfected the song. And again, the challenge was present.

Young Ewok, black fur shaking and starting to be dampened from sweat as they burst into the machines hard mode, a booming song known as “Duel of the Late Jedi” with grand sweeping burst of frantic energy punctuated by slower sections which annoyingly for Foxen, who could see the Ewok tiring faster then him, allow the Ewok to recover his stamina and keep up with him. Both glared in frustration at the end screen.

PERFECT!-PERFECT!

Tyk turned first, pulling another credit from his utility belt. Foxen met his determined gaze, his own just as hard. No words needed to be spoken. The war was only getting more heated, and one of them had to win!

The Nautolan creature turned and strode off the Dance Dance platform, which creaked as it stepped off. Tyk ran across and hopped down to follow.

They passed game after game, the tall-tentacle barely pausing at each one with a glance. Tyk ran to keep up, and upon looking back, his opponent slowed his strides, only taking one for every five of the Ewok's.

"Here!" Tyk said, pointing at a booth with balls and hoops and a Hutt face. The Nautolan looked to Tyk, looked up at the hoops, shook his head. They kept going.

"Here?" Tyk asked, this time at another game with two enormous plastic rifles. He thought surely this was right, since the Nautolan had pistols on their person. But again, he seemed to size up the game, then the Ewok, and shook his head. "But..." Tyk protested.

The Nautolan got down one of the guns and set it by the butt beside Tyk. It was his size.

"Wow. Okay, fine! What about that?"

He pointed at one with speeder bikes stuck to the ground. His opponent seemed to consider, but then the holoscreens flashed with images of racing through a jungle, running from rancors, and suddenly the Nautolan wasn't there anymore.

Tyk spun around, confused.

"Friend?" he called. Oh, they hadn't exchanged names. Huh! "A rude word literate amphibian?"

Being an absolute behemoth, thankfully the Nautolan stood out in the crowd. Tyk spotted him against the far wall, glowing black-on-black, and huffed and puffed as he ran over.

"Wow! You're fast! What's over here?"

He inspected the wall for a game, but it just seemed to be the Nautolan with his back plastered to it.

A moment passed where they just stood there, then the datapad came back out. He showed the screen.

No animal games.

"Oh. Okay!" The Ewok considered. "What about that one?"

Red eyes followed his pointing paw to a massive glowing table. Two small people played at it. One needed a chair to stand on.

The Nautolan grunted, made a gesture of touching his hand to his chin and then towards Tyk, then walked over. He stood there, waiting their turn, and stared. Tyk joined him. But very soon the humanoids, looking at the giant, fled with their game unfinished. His opponent huffed, then grabbed the little puck and dropped it into one goal until the counter reset. He gestured to the Ewok.

Tyk put his credit in the game, then toddled over to the chair and scrambled up. The table exuded streams of air that lifted his fur. He grabbed his stick with both paws and prepared himself.

Ping! went the puck from the Nautolan's side. It rocketed across the slippery surface and into the slot behind Tyk's arms. He frowned, then grabbed it and sent it back. It was blocked easily. The puck shot back with force like a gun.

Wow.

It was a brutal bloodbath. The Ewok didn't make a single shot. His opponent scored on him every single time. Wow!

They were done in maybe two minutes.

Wow.

"You really are good!" Tyk cried, and hopped down. It wasn't the competition he'd hoped, but that was fine. It had been fun. "Gee. That is lots of wins. Now what?"

The Nautolan tilted his head, pointed back outside. Tyk deflated.

"Oh, okay..." he said. He looked over towards the prize counter. Surely a cool glowing necklace like that, or that inflatable sword, would be good for 'aquatic training.'

The Nautolan followed his gaze, and grunted again. He typed on the pad.

Wait here. Start new Words game.

The instructions were simple, and why not? Tyk shrugged and took out his own datapad as his buddy prowled over towards the ball and hoop game. He started a new challenge with [afrakingliterateamphibian] and debated his word. The Nautolan went to the shooting game. Then another game. And another.

Tyk finally played his word, and then looked up as a world-eating shadow looked over him. He smiled up at the Nautolan blocking out the lights.

"Hey-- wow! That's a lot of tickets--!"

His opponent dropped the bundle of flimsiplast. It rained down over the Ewok like streamers, burying him. He flailed to dig his way out, head popping free as he finally emerged. When he looked around, the Nautolan was nowhere to be found.

"Huh..."

His datapad pinged.

Tyk opened the War of Words game again. His opponent had played back, and the word was simple this time, not made up or Nautlia like quincunx.

GOODBYE.

"Wow," Tyk whispered. Then he gathered up his pile of tickets twice his size and dragged them over to the counter. He would even get his boss a candy ring.

What a great day.

The battle was intense. The two sentients at a state of total war as they slammed foot and foot again into the pads. They blasted through four more songs, still grinding against each other’s perfect scores. The children gasped in amazement. The adults watched in mounting nervousness at what would happen to the loser of this battle’s mental state, intimidated by the ferocity of their actions.

They went to load the next song when the unthinkable happened. The machine cut out. Foxen looked down and saw the cracks formed in the cheap metals of the machine. They’d physically stomped the thing into oblivion.

“A draw?!” Tyk cried, horrified. “We can’t draw!” Foxen nodded with vigour. This was unacceptable. A small child, standing at around Tyk’s height, stepped toward the two, parent failing to grab the little Lek head before she could intervene in the conflict of these dancing gods. The two turned toward the interrupting Twi’lek.

“Yas any gwud at Stwormbwaster?” She said, gesturing happily toward a set of blaster rifle stands. The two turned toward each other.

“I’m not.” Tyk said happily. “Absolutely dreadful. And you look more like a punch then a shoot sort of person.”

I am fully capable of using firearms. Foxen typed to the Ewok.

“Sure, but can you shoot a blaster?”

Foxen thought on it. They’d never really trained with blasters, like at all. But how hard could it be? They were very good with slugthrowers after all. He nodded. They stepped over to the Stormblaster machines, going for the Rakghoul vs the 501st machine. “Zombies!” Tyk said as they both slipped in several coins. “So cool!” He gushed. The Nautolan barely resisted a smile. This thing was not cute. Not cute. Most certainly not cute.

The screen loaded, a split room deep in the heart of an Imperial Star Destroyer. The two watched a short cutscene of the legendary Darth Vader walking down the corridor. Then the lights died, Vader igniting his lightsaber just as the emergency lights came on. Both worked together to reveal a huge arm of rotting black flesh grab the villain and crushing him. The arm retracted as hordes of ghouls began rushing down the corridor. The HUD faded in as the two began blasting and both came to an immediate realisation.

They were terrible with blasters. Tyk kept forgetting he didn’t need to draw a string, jerking it erratically and overheating it regularly. Foxen for his part found the utter lack of recoil off putting, the light weight constantly causing him to over compensate. Both took a hit. They were getting better, but not fast. The rakghoul stormtroopers were coming in thick and fast, and they only had two lives left each.

Foxen took another hit, a stormcrawler hitting them from the ceiling as they missed a shot into the actual ceiling of the arcade. Thankfully the blasters were fake, so no damage was done. Tyk was overwhelmed by a larger wave.

Then the next wave came, a series of heavily armoured weakpoint enemies on Tyk’s side, weird Death troopers with glowing orange face plates. He began to panic, watching as the wave marched in. He couldn’t land precise hits fast enough. As he looked over, Foxen was having their own issues. The enemies were a wave of speedy crawlers, coming in from all sides. Foxen would go down first. Their creatures were faster. But…

Tyk growled, knowing that this wave would take him too. He wouldn’t win this duel because the tentacle giant got a faster wave. He turned and began blasting, taking out a good chunk of the enemies. His youthful speed allowed him to start clearing the wave. Foxen in turn faced the Ewok’s screen. How dare he taint his victory with kindness. He turned and applied his precision laser fire to the ranks of slow moving but narrow target enemies, easily slashing down the row. They didn’t have to compensate for the lightness or recoil if the fools walked in a line.

The wave ended. The crowd held their breath. The black fleshed creature dropped out the ceiling, Vader’s helmet rolling away from it. Both growled angrily, unwilling to be beaten. Tyk’s fire was imprecise, blasting along it’s flanks and doing minimal damage, but inflicting heavy stagger. For his part Foxen did huge damage by blowing out eyes, then limb joints. The creature was rapidly taken apart by the pair. The game flashed a screen before them.

The crowd cheered. The screen read; COOPERATIVE VICTORY COMPLETED!

Foxen looked down at Tyk, who had their hand raised for a high five. We drew again. Tyk pulled out his datapad and read that.

“And? That was so bubblin cool!” His hand was still raised.

Still.

Raised.

The crowd was silent. The eyes of a good sixteen or so people boring into them. Foxen looked around. Looked down. Shook their head, but sure enough…

SMACK