Star Wars - Episode I Adventures 010 - Festival of Warriors Page 2
Several events were scheduled for the first day, but most Gungans had come to the arena to see the Big Nasty Free-For-All. The legendary competition would begin with a sprawling game of gulliball — better known as a gulli-brawl — and the winners would then proceed to the marathon. The marathon led from the arena to the swamps surrounding Lake Umberbool, then to the high cliffs that rose above the north side of the lake. At the cliffs the entrants would be required to compete in a diving event before they returned to the arena. Each entrant was permitted to carry two weapons, although it was understood that weapons could be used only to stun an opponent.
The four hundred and thirty-six Gungans who were entered to compete in the Big Nasty Free-For-All were assembled in the center of the immense arena. Every one of the entrants wore a padded helmet for protection and a green uniform with yellow identification numbers on the chest and back. Many of them waved to the crowd, who watched on large liquid-crystal monitors or through farseeins, powerful binoculars with oil magnifier lenses.
Captain Tarpals was among the entrants on the crowded field doing his warm-up exercises. He stretched from side to side, then did a series of quick squats, pumping the muscles in his powerful legs. Tarpals was feeling pretty limber when he heard someone say, “Good day, Captain Tarpals.”
Tarpals turned to see the speaker was Major Fassa. “Good day, Major Fassa,” Tarpals replied, surprised that she knew his name. Granted, they’d both been in the presence of Boss Nass before, but Tarpals couldn’t recall whether Boss Nass had ever officially introduced them.
After Fassa tightened her helmet’s chin strap, she began jogging in place, bringing her knees up high with each step and keeping her elbows close to her sides. Tarpals dropped to the ground and began doing push-ups. “Isa dis yousa firstest time ina Big Nasty?” Fassa asked.
“No,” Tarpals answered.
“My hearen isa tough marathon,” Fassa commented. “Yousa ever finish-ed?”
“Yes.” Tarpals continued his push-ups. Actually, Tarpals had finished in the top ten for the past six festivals, but since he wasn’t a braggart, he didn’t mention it. Tarpals felt uncomfortable talking with Major Fassa. After all, her uncle was the most powerful Gungan in Otoh Gunga. But Tarpals suspected Fassa was just trying to be friendly, so he asked, “What made yousa wanten to enter da Big Nasty?”
Without breaking her jogging pace, Fassa answered, “Dat’s been simple. Mesa wanten to win.”
Before Tarpals could respond, two large, sandaled feet stepped in front of his face. Tarpals quickly pushed himself up from the ground and found himself facing Boss Nass himself. Major Fassa had stopped jogging and was already standing at attention. Tarpals followed suit.
“At ease, yousa two,” Boss Nass said, pointing to his supremely tailored green uniform. “Today, mesa just anutter contestant.” As it was something of a tradition, Boss Nass always entered the Big Nasty Free-For-All. In his youth, he’d won the competition three years in a row. He was still a good swimmer, and routinely finished the Big Nasty in the top fifty.
“Heyo-dalee, Boss!” shouted a familiar voice over the crowd. It was Jar Jar Binks. His helmet was slightly too large and it wobbled back and forth on top of his head as he walked forward. Not surprisingly, Jar Jar strolled through the crowd with relative ease. Jar Jar was always amazed at how other Gungans seemed to jump out of his way and clear a path whenever he approached. When he saw Captain Tarpals, he offered a friendly salute and said, “Un heyo-dalee to yousa, Cap’n Tarpals!”
“Good day, Jar Jar.” Boss Nass beamed, for he imagined Jar Jar wouldn’t last long in the Big Nasty. “Guess yousa decide-ed yousa no just a spectator, huh?”
“Dat’s right, Boss,” Jar Jar said as he tried to secure his helmet. “Yousa just watch! My been determined to win dis Big Nasty un den —” Jar Jar stopped talking as soon as his eyes fell on Major Fassa. He hadn’t recognized her at first in her helmet. Jar Jar gulped, then stammered, “Huh... hello, Major Fassa.”
“Greetings, Jar Jar Binks,” Fassa replied with a smile.
“Soooooh...” Jar Jar said, trying to sound casual. “Yousa also competen inda Big Nasty?”
“Oh, yes,” Fassa answered.
Once again, Jar Jar found himself wondering what he should say. He’d hoped to try as hard as he could to win the Big Nasty Free-For-All to show everyone that he was a real hero, but he hadn’t expected that he might be competing against Fassa. Along with Major Fassa, both Boss Nass and Captain Tarpals stared at Jar Jar, waiting for him to respond.
“Good luck den!” Jar Jar laughed. “Da more da merrier, my always say. Isa just a lettal competition, dat’s all.”
A loud horn signalled all the competitors to get ready to begin the Big Nasty Free-For-All. The twenty-thousand Gungan spectators roared their approval as the four hundred and thirty-six entrants assembled behind the Big Nasty starting line.
Suddenly, a figure wearing a gray hood and a brown robe broke through the front ranks of the competitors. It was Rep Teers, and he carried a yellow flag to show that there was a time-out in effect. “Boss Nass!” Rep Teers called as he pushed his way past Jar Jar. “Boss Nass! Wesa gotta big problem.”
“Better be maxibig problem, Rep Teers,” Boss Nass said. “Mesa about to run da Big Nasty.”
“Yousa might wanna tink again,” Rep Teers cautioned. “Mesa just got word from da Shore Patrol. Dey found strange tracks on Lake Umberbool beach.”
“What kinda tracks?” Boss Nass asked.
“Lookie like mackineeks, dey said,” Rep Teers answered. “Da tracks lead from da beach inta da water.”
Boss Nass’s eyes went wide with alarm and anger. Gungans respected nature, and they didn't trust mechanical beings. “Mackineeks?! Mesa no liken mackineeks inda Gungan regions.”
“Where dese mackineeks come from?” Major Fassa asked.
“Da patrol no know for certain, boot dey no from Naboo,” Rep Teers replied. “Da mackineeks musta be brought hair by outlaunders.”
Jar Jar stuck his nose forward and said, “So, Boss, yousa tink wesa should evacuate da arena?”
Boss Nass clamped one of his large hands over Jar Jar’s mouth. “Yousa wanten cause-a panic?” Boss Nass snapped. “Da spectators isa safe if dey stay inda arena.”
“Boot what about if dese mackineeks isa hostile-heads?” Jar Jar asked. Because his mouth was still covered by Boss Nass’s hand, his question sounded like Boowhub-boudif-deef mafannifs iffoffl e-ebbs?
Boss Nass removed his hand from Jar Jar’s face. “If dares any hostile-headed mackineeks on Naboo, wesa gonna find dem un disable dem. Spread da message toda otter Big Nasty contestants. Tell dem tabe careful, boot anybody dat finds un disables a mackineek scores extra points. Anybody dat bring a mackineek back to da arena gets extra-extra points.”
“Extra-extra points?” Jar Jar asked. “Isa dat in da rule books?”
“Rule books no matter much inda Big Nasty,” Boss Nass said with a shrug. “Besides, mesa da ruler of Otoh Gunga, so mesa change da rules.”
Within minutes, all the Big Nasty entrants were aware of the situation. Boss Nass knew the unsuspecting spectators were growing restless, so he signaled Rep Teers to raise a green flag. The time-out was officially over.
“Let da Big Nasty begin!” Boss Nass shouted at the top of his lungs. The audience went wild.
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High above the athletes’ heads, a large balloon carried a basket filled with two hundred and eighteen gullipuds — small, squishy herbivores that puffed up like inflated balls when they got excited. More than anything, gullipuds enjoyed being tossed and batted through the air, and Gungans had long used the creatures in games of
gulli-ball.
At the sound of the bawoonka, the basket would release the gullipuds. The creatures would inflate, then fall down to the arena’s central grass-covered playing field. The starting trumpet would also signal the Big Nasty entrants to run out onto the playing field to catch the gullipuds. Since gullipuds were good bouncers, catching one wasn’t always easy.
Captain Tarpals stood away from Boss Nass, Major Fassa, and Jar Jar. Tarpals knew the Big Nasty could get pretty rough, and he didn’t want to find himself competing against Boss Nass or his niece. As for Jar Jar, Tarpals always made it a rule to keep his distance from the accident-prone Gungan. Tarpals quickly checked his two weapons. He had a spear slung across his back and a slingshot secured to his belt. Although he was something of an expert with both weapons, he hoped he wouldn’t have to use them during the competition. From experience, he knew that fighting often delayed his finish. If Tarpals had to fight, he’d do it fast.
Tarpals watched the bawoonka player, who stood on a high platform near the starting line. She raised her musical instrument to her face, pressed her lips to the mouthpiece, then squeezed the gasbag.
BA-WOOOOOONKAAAAAAA!
The elevated basket released the gullipuds, and the contestants dashed for the playing field. Tarpals was a good jumper, and he bounded over the heads of the other Big Nasty entrants. He was careful not to land on anyone, and reached the center of the playing field in seconds. The roar of the spectators was deafening.
The gullipuds had nearly reached the ground, and the contestants were positioning themselves, getting ready to grab one of the plummeting creatures. There were only half as many gullipuds as there were entrants in the Big Nasty Free-For-All. Unless Tarpals could get hold of a gullipud, he would be disqualified.
Some Gungans removed their helmets and turned them upside down to catch the gullipuds, which could sometimes be slippery. Tarpals kept his helmet on his head and clapped his hands, making sure they were dry.
A big, broad-shouldered Gungan stepped directly in front of Tarpals. The competitor was looking up at the gullipuds and did not realize he had blocked Tarpals’ position. At first, Tarpals was annoyed that the fellow would get in his way, but then he realized he could take advantage of the situation. Tarpals jumped off the ground, landed with his feet on the other entrant’s shoulders, then pushed off, leaping even higher over the playing field. Tarpals plucked a gullipud from the air, did a somersault, and landed on both feet.
As more gullipuds reached the playing field, dozens of skirmishes erupted among the competitors. Within seconds, Tarpals was completely surrounded by brawling Gungans. Although Tarpals had succeeded in catching a gullipud, the broad-shouldered Gungan he’d jumped on was not so fortunate.
“Hey!” he shouted at Tarpals. “Yousa stole mesa gullipud!”
The broad-shouldered Gungan charged, and Tarpals aimed the gullipud’s mouth at his opponent and squeezed its inflated body. Sptttth! The gullipud reflexively sprayed saliva at the attacker.
“Eeeeyuck!” cried the spit-covered player. The broad-shouldered Gungan was so grossed out that he didn’t notice as Tarpals leaped off the playing field. Tarpals had succeeded in catching and keeping a gullipud, but the Big Nasty was far from over.
BA-WOOOOOONKAAAAAAA!
The sound of the bawoonka signaled all gulllpud-bearing Gungans to get in line for the next competition: the gulli-throw. Two hundred and eighteen Gungans were required to take turns throwing their gullipuds into an open-bottomed net that was mounted at the top of a high wooden pole. The task seemed easy enough, but Tarpals knew the wooden pole was very flexible, its top swaying back and forth each time it was hit. Those who failed to send a gullipud through the net would be eliminated from the Big Nasty Free-For-All. Most Gungans would attempt to throw the gullipuds into the net, but Tarpals was confident he could jump up and dunk the gullipud. On the ground around the pole, Gungan youngsters stood ready to catch the thrown gullipuds.
Tarpals’s turn came soon enough. He dribbled the gullipud against the grass court, then jumped up at the net and tried to dunk the creature. Unfortunately, the gullipud had inflated so much that it got stuck in the net, and Tarpals was already falling back to the court. His only chance to stay in the competition was to make an immediate rebound jump. The moment his feet hit the grass court, he sprang back up and pushed the stuck gullipud out of the net, then gave it a mid-air squeeze to deflate it. Just as it passed through the net, the gullipud inflated again. Both Tarpals and the gullipud hit the court at the same time, and the inflated creature bounced back into Tarpals’s hands. The gullipud was obviously delighted with the game, for it opened its mouth, extended its tongue, and licked the side of Tarpals’s face.
The spectators and the other competitors erupted in great laughter at the sight of Tarpals getting licked by the gullipud. Tarpals handed the happy creature to a Gungan youngster near the seaweed net’s pole.
“Congratulations on yousa rebound jump, sir,” said the Gungan child.
“Tanks,” replied Tarpals as he wiped his face off with the back of his hand.
Of the two hundred and eighteen Gungans who competed in the gulli-throw, eighty-six failed to put their gullipuds through the net. Behind the pole that supported the net, Tarpals fell into position with the other one hundred and thirty-one Big Nasty finalists. He glanced around, and was pleased to note that both Boss Nass and Major Fassa were still in the competition. Miraculously, so was Jar Jar Binks. Tarpals suspected it was more luck than skill that had kept Jar Jar in the Big Nasty, but Tarpals didn’t wish him any ill will. Tarpals simply hoped Jar Jar would stay out of trouble.
The athletes’ next goal was to reach the exit to the lake. The exit was a portal zone located at one of the utanode assembly braces that framed the immense bubble, just above the highest bleacher seats at the north end of the arena. A Gungan engineer pulled a lever, and dozens of long vines uncoiled from a bar that extended from the high utanode assembly brace. These vines would allow the Big Nasty finalists to try to climb up to the portal zone.
While the vines were lowered, Tarpals noticed Jar Jar examining the pole that supported the seaweed net. Jar Jar leaned against the pole and watched it sway back and forth. Tarpals rolled his eyes. He didn’t know what was going through Jar Jar’s mind, and he didn’t want to know either.
As the vines reached the arena’s playing field, the bawoonka player raised her instrument and the spectators shouted in anticipation of the next contest.
BA-WOOOOOONKAAAAAAA!
Tarpals jumped for a vine and hauled himself up its length as fast as he could. He was the first one on the vine, and other Gungans were right behind him. On the neighboring vines, more Gungans were scurrying hand-over-hand toward the bubble’s utanode assembly brace. Tarpals was about halfway up the vine when he heard a rubbery sproing sound, and turned his head just in time to see Jar Jar hurtling away from the flexible pole and up through the air. Jar Jar had bent the pole back and launched himself at the high portal zone.
“Yaaaaaaaagh!” Jar Jar cried as he soared over the playing field. The audience gasped. Tarpals didn’t know whether Jar Jar should be applauded for his ingenuity or condemned for his recklessness. But as Jar Jar began to arc downwards, it was apparent to all onlookers that he wasn’t going to land at the portal zone. Instead, he fell toward one of the neighboring vines, and snagged it with his hands.
Jar Jar coiled his body around the vine and waved at Tarpals. “Hidoe, Cap’n Tarpals!” he cried. “Hey, mesa higher dan yous!”
It was true. Jar Jar was closer to the portal zone than Captain Tarpals. Tarpals overcame his initial surprise and resumed climbing. When he reached the top of the vine, he swung his legs onto the utanode brace and pulled himself up below the portal zone. He stood on a narrow beam under the immense domed ceiling of the arena. The height was dizzying, but the portal zone was only a step away. Below his position, other Gungans were still scrambling up the long vines in their effort to reach the portal zone. A
s the attentive audience broke out in enthusiastic cheers and applause, Tarpals thought he had the lead. But when he turned to enter the portal zone, he bumped into Major Fassa.
Tarpals was so surprised to see Major Fassa standing on the beam that he blurted, “How yous get up hair so fast?!”
Major Fassa aimed a thumb at the open hatch of a nearby maintenance tube lift, built into the side of the bubble’s utanode brace. Tarpals was surprised that Major Fassa had resorted to such an easy method to travel to the portal zone, but the rules of the Big Nasty did not say entrants had to climb the vines to reach the portal.
“Yousa forgoten sumptin, Captain Tarpals,” Fassa said.
“What's dat?” Tarpals asked.
“Dis is da Big Nasty!” Fassa replied and she pushed Tarpals aside as she leaped through the portal zone, exiting the the arena bubble and entering Lake Umberbool. Tarpals tumbled back against the narrow beam, then extended his arms to regain his balance. By the time he recovered and sprang for the portal zone, he was very aware of the fact that he wasn’t in the lead anymore.
Of one more thing, Tarpals was certain. Major Fassa was a very tough competitor.
Major Fassa swam away from the arena and headed for the first check point, a small outpost bubble located between the arena and Lake Umberbool’s northern swamps. As she swam, she thought of the startled look on Captain Tarpals’s face, and she had to fight back the urge to laugh. She hadn’t pushed him very hard — just enough to ensure that she could get through the portal first — but his expression had been priceless. Tarpals always seemed so grim and serious, and Fassa took some delight in having caught him off guard.
Fassa was suddenly distracted by an approaching school of faynaa fish. Faynaa were fast-moving, medium-sized carnivores, and there were thirty fish in all. If they were hungry, Fassa knew she could be in trouble. Hoping to show she wasn’t a threat, she stopped swimming and hung motionless in the water. But when the faynaa continued to head straight for her, Fassa threw back her head and shouted as loud as she could, sending a rush of air bubbles from her mouth. Her shout frightened the faynaa, and they scattered in all directions.