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.

What began as a midnight breaking and entering in attempts to assassinate his wife at their villa on Naboo led to a chase under Lake Paonga. Creon broke through the hydrostatic force-field of Otoh Gunga with his Basilisk, blasting music through the portal on the combatant's personal stereo. The target in pursuit stood across from the bubble at an elevated plateau.

"Only fire if you know it's going to hit. I don't want to bury us both," Creon told the AI in his helmet that relayed the message to the command prompt of the Basilisk War Droid.

Vincent probed Creon's mind with images of raping and killing his wife. The terror pulled to his rage. Though his rage did not overcome him, Creon's mind leaked the subtle conceptual telepathic sense of caution for the environment. Vincent concluded Creon felt nervous for the wall's fragility. To use this fear to his advantage, Vincent threw his thermal detonator between where the droid stood near the entrance and launched behind it an explosive net from the Sith's Lanvarok. This instantly ignited the thermal detonator. Creon took no damage as most of the shrapnel repelled off the armor of his droid and his own, and through a barrier mitigated the mounted impact's cause of whiplash. The bubble's entrance force-field, however, began to leak fast. Creon called for his mount to attack in the Mando'a tongue, and the droid leapt to the upper plateau. Its processor calibrated the relative distance to the target and timed an accurate rate of fire once within range. Precognitively sensing this, Creon and Vincent simultaneously moved. Vincent's higher initiative brought him first to dash to the side away from the mid-air droid's barrel. As he did so Creon used the Force in attempts to stun Vincent's movements by locking his joints. Regardless Vincent moved seemingly unhindered. He fired two shots with his blaster with his offhand whilst dashing and lept forward to lunge a critical blow between the armor performed by a Makashi kata. The bolts dissipated before a personal energy shield surrounding Creon's silouhoutte. Vincent's attack was evaded when Creon took flight from a short burst by his jetpack. As he rose the Mandalorian rained blaster bolts from his arm cannon and whistling birds from his vambrace. Vincent spun his lightsaber around to the stance of Djem So and used its defensive techniques to fan away the incoming projectiles. Creon lowered and fanned flames from the arm cannon's projector with simultaneous punches throwing telekinetic strikes and push in Vincent's direction from the same arm's repulsor field installed in his vambrace. This had the marauder zig zag under enhanced speed to avoid the flames. He avoided the strikes but was slowed by the repulsor. That allowed a combination telekinetic strike break through his defenses with what felt like a gut punch and then swept off his feet into the ground face first. Just before falling Vincent noticed Creon performing a motion familiar to a combination in Mandalorian Core, shouting what meant "Soaring Fist" in Mando'a. He learned just before his head met the floor that the martial arts gestures were linked to the distant telekinetic strikes.

The stereo played another song.

The bass line from the music radiated through Brujah's head almost as thoroughly as the wave of pain from hitting the ground. With a side eye he checked Creon's position. It appeared that the Mandalorian was preparing another volley of Whistling Birds. The Sith sneered. This mission was already off to a bad start, and the added soundtrack to the unexpected resistance was putting Brujah in a foul mood.

Before Creon could fire another round of Whistling Birds, the Sith kipped up to his feet, his lightsaber hilt flying to his right hand and he tucked away the DL-44 with his left. The surrounding area flashed crimson once more as Brujah activated the saber and swung out at the Mandalorian. Creon blocked the swing with his Beskar vambrace. The Sith's eyes seemed to light up with anger. Furiously he swung again, this time aiming for the neck, but again Creon blocked the swing with his Beskar.

The two danced in battle to the beat of the music. Each time the Sith swung, the Mandalorian batted away the blade with his armor. It was clear that Brujah was growing more and more furious with each swing. Every slice coming in harder and faster than the one before it. It was as though Creon knew every move the Sith was about to make. Try as he might, Brujah could not land a damaging swing.

The rage erupted from the Sith in the form of a shove from the Force aimed at Creon's feet. The Mandalorian's feet flung themselves backward sending Creon falling flat on his Beskar helmet. Before he could recover he sensed danger incoming and rolled out of the way as Brujah's lightsaber stabbed into the rocky ground of the plateau where his head had just been. The Sith raised his saber for another rage amplified strike, but a cone of flame from Creon's vambrace caused him to back away and guard himself with his cloak.

With a quick burst of his jet pack de Neverse was back on his feet. The song was coming to an end, but another would soon follow. The two circled each other briefly, each looking for holes in the form of the other. Brujah jumped first, with another wide arc from his saber, but suddenly he felt himself slowing. His movement was stalling as if the weight of the world itself had somehow increased.

"The droid..." the Battlemaster thought to himself, turning as quickly as his altered state would allow him. The sweat was dripping off of his forehead as he used his full concentration to fight the gravity. The droid raised an arm, taking aim at the Sith. With a screech a laser round fired towards Brujah.

Using every bit of his effort, Brujah swung his saber deflecting the blast back at the Basilisk War Droid. The head of the droid was pierced through as it toppled over the side of the plateau towards the ocean floor below. In an instant the whole world felt lighter to the Sith. He turned to Creon, who had pulled pistol. The song came to an end, and for a moment there was silence, but it was quickly interrupted by a chuckle from Brujah.

"Go ahead. Fire that thing at me and meet the same fate as your companion..." The Sith spat. "One way or another, that helmet of yours will be in a display case in my home before this day is over. Maybe I'll put some of your wife's hair in the case too, that way, even in death you two can be together."

The Mandalorian removed his helmet whilst still holding his pistol aimed towards the forehead of the Sith. He looked down to see the helmet roll towards his feet, and then his attention felt pulled back towards Creon. The smoldering orange-gold eyes of one who's given over to the Dark Side glowed over Creon's once hazel-colored pupils.

"Disarm, comply to detainment, and lead me to who sent you and we can both walk away from this ordeal alive and with income," Creon offered.

"Kark-off," Brujah replied.

"The alternative is carbonite. I can put you in warm, or I can put you in cold," Creon warned.

Within a split second Brujah extended his arm towards Creon to send a pushing wave by the Force. Creon reacted by firing a round by the pistol that pulled in energy from both combatants. With a Force speed amplified side-step and leaning himself back Brujah was able to predetermine the trajectory from barrel positioning and dodge the oncoming bolt at the moment it was fired. Both of their eyes were locked at one another. The push sent Creon back, but he held to his feet like a juggernaut. Creon used Force Speed in tandem with a short burst from his jetpack towards Brujah. With first forward Creon clotheslined Brujah back to the ground head first. The same arm droped to aim the vambrace just over his face. Creon fired a DV8-Repulsor Unit than caused a crushing push that cracked the ground behind Brujah's back. He then took a knee and slammed an open palm onto Brujach's sternum and detonated a small wave to telekinetic energy. The wave lacerated both kidneys, tore the cartilage along the ribs, cracked the ribs, and knocked the wind out of Brujah. Creon stood over and extended his fingers which trickled in electricity. He thought of the traumatic terror afflicted in his mind and channeled them emotionally into an arc of lightning that made Brujah scream and seizure. Both eyes were still locked.

"Do me a favor. If there be an afterlife, give me a sign. Haunt me with your attachment to vengeance from the life you had I will soon take from you. This will strengthen my power in the Dark Side. Or could you imagine the Force not granting such respite in death? Despite what's witnessed by its power in nature, the safest and most rational answer is that no more oxygen to the brain means the lack of experience of the body, no thoughts, no feelings, no you. This is for eternity, as there will never once again be another just like you. You've risked this possible Oblivion in attempts to bring it to my heart and home. You do not value being alive; you have no self-respect for it." Once the lightning surge stopped, Brujah writhed long enough for Creon to fire the lethal and stun bolts out the dual fire chamber of his arm cannon. The body didn't move after that. Creon unholstered his blaster rifle and looked through the scope in Infared to look for a heat signature. There was still some warmth in the core. Creon gave into the Dark Side and rapidly fired kill confirmation rounds from the blaster rifle. A cold chill had run down his spine.

While Brujah could not see through Creon's Beskar to read his response to the taunt, he could feel the anger radiating from him. Brujah thought that he heard another song start on the Savant's stereo, but any confirmation was quickly deemed impossible as the deafening roar of the Soulscorn pistol rang out. A grin cross Brujah's face as he raised his lightsaber and deflected the bolts into ocean floor. Still more shots rang out as the Mandalorian rushed the Sith.

"There you go!" the Battlemaster thought to himself. "Put that brain of yours away and rely on the firepower."

Brujah darted out of the way, deflecting some bolts and outright avoiding the others. Creon's anger had made him sloppy, and Vincent could feel the Beskar-clad maniac's desire for blood. As Creon's charge reached the Sith, he dropped the pistol and dove towards him in an attempt to take his legs and bring him to the ground, but Brujah leapt well over the Mandalorian and flipped, landing behind the stumbling ball of rage. The Savant lost his footing, but fired his jet pack to avoid hitting the ground. In an instant he was several meters above Brujah, who looked up at him with a renewed sense of confidence. The Sith stuck his arms out as his side while looking up at Creon, as if asking "What now?". The answer came before the question could even be asked. A full round of Whistling Birds were fired at once.

Brujah's senses screamed. He swatted away several of the projectiles, but was struck in the left shoulder while trying to duck away from the last few rounds. A scream escaped his lips as he did all he could to ignore the pain. The Mandalorian saw his opening and dove down at the Sith, driving the top of his helmet into Brujah's forehead. The Battlemaster dropped, and Creon quickly deactivated the jet pack and mounted him. Punches rained down on the face of Brujah as he dropped the hilt of his lightsaber, seemingly close to losing consciousness. Angrily, Creon yelled out at Brujah.

"YOU CHOSE THE WRONG MISSION!!" he screamed as he drove another hard punch down onto the bloodied face of the Sith. "YOU CHOSE THE WRONG MAN'S WIFE!"

Another punch rocked the Sith. Brujah's eyes were closed as blood began to rush from his nose. The fight appeared to be nearing its conclusion. The leather sheath on Brujah's belt began to shake wildly, but the Mandalorian was far too busy raining hell down on the Sith to notice. In an instant, Brujah's Sith dagger unsheathed itself and dug itself into the weak spot between the helmet and the chest on Creon's neck. The punches stopped. Again, Brujah thought he heard music, or was that the sound of blood gurgling in the Mandalorian's throat?

Creon backed up, trying to reach his feet. Instinctively he reached up and pulled the dagger out, tossing it to the ground with a clang. The world always looked a bit skewed under the waters of Naboo, but this spinning, it was more than the Mandalorian could take. Just when he was ready to lose hope, he saw his wife walking up to him slowly. She gently put her hands on the sides of his helmet.

"It's okay, Creon..." she said peacefully. "Let's just rest a while here..."

The Savant tried to speak back, but gargled nonsense was all that would escape his lips. Before he could realize that it was all an illusion brought on by the toxins in the dagger, the crimson blade of Brujah's lightsaber took of his head.

The Sith looked at the hole in his shoulder and spat the blood in his mouth down at the lifeless body of Savant Creon de Neverse. Taking a couple of steps, Brujah reached down and pulled the helmet off the ground, letting the lifeless head within it roll away as he turned and staggered away.