09-23-2023, 01:50 PM
As Danster drew near Lake Paonga, whose depths housed the famous Gungan city, he began to recognise more and more landmarks.
The Gungan thought to himself, "Damn you Tee-see, you didn't even land us the right side of the lake."
The air began to moisten further as he reached his destination which was like a balm after a long hyperjump in recycled air unfriendly to his amphibious skin. Upon reaching the shores of the lake, he inhaled a lungful of air and leapt into its cloudy water. As he swum downwards he pondered his route; should he swim over the bubbles and enter Otoh Gunga at his usual point, or go to the entrance immediately closest to him in the industrial sector of the bubble network. Having spent the last few months on Manaan, his keenness to get home and the fact that he'd done enough swimming there, prompted him to elect to swim directly to the relatively unused entry point.
Upon arrival, he pushed his way through the water-repelling membrane and planted his feet on solid ground. It wasn't long ago that such an entrance would have been impossible; Bongo Sub squadrons would constantly patrol the waters around the city and armed guards would maintain a round-the-clock posting at each entrance. But these were times of peace. A young security guard enquired as to his name and punched it into a datapad, but beyond that he was able to enter inhibited. As he patrolled through the next bubble towards the city's centre, he reminisced about times when no one here would need to ask his name. These days, it was rare for any Gungan in their 20s or younger to recognise him. He didn't miss the fame, that much was definite, but he was beginning to feel as though he missed the sense of usefulness that came with his service to both the Jedi, the people of Naboo and the rest of the universe.
The Gungan thought to himself, "Damn you Tee-see, you didn't even land us the right side of the lake."
The air began to moisten further as he reached his destination which was like a balm after a long hyperjump in recycled air unfriendly to his amphibious skin. Upon reaching the shores of the lake, he inhaled a lungful of air and leapt into its cloudy water. As he swum downwards he pondered his route; should he swim over the bubbles and enter Otoh Gunga at his usual point, or go to the entrance immediately closest to him in the industrial sector of the bubble network. Having spent the last few months on Manaan, his keenness to get home and the fact that he'd done enough swimming there, prompted him to elect to swim directly to the relatively unused entry point.
Upon arrival, he pushed his way through the water-repelling membrane and planted his feet on solid ground. It wasn't long ago that such an entrance would have been impossible; Bongo Sub squadrons would constantly patrol the waters around the city and armed guards would maintain a round-the-clock posting at each entrance. But these were times of peace. A young security guard enquired as to his name and punched it into a datapad, but beyond that he was able to enter inhibited. As he patrolled through the next bubble towards the city's centre, he reminisced about times when no one here would need to ask his name. These days, it was rare for any Gungan in their 20s or younger to recognise him. He didn't miss the fame, that much was definite, but he was beginning to feel as though he missed the sense of usefulness that came with his service to both the Jedi, the people of Naboo and the rest of the universe.