The suns scorched the Tusken Raider's back as it walked along the dune. Even under layers of loose wrappings, it could still feel the heat.

The Tusken reached for its water canteen, pulling it up to its face. But before it could undo the mask, it shook the canteen. There was no promising splash of water from inside.

The Tusken sighed and hooked the canteen back to its belt, continuing the long walk towards the Krayt Dragon's nest. Just a bit further. . .

It shook its feet when it felt sand piling in one of its shoes. Soon, it thought, it would have a bantha of its own, and would no longer have to walk on the sand.

But before it could obtain a bantha, it had to slaughter a Krayt Dragon, as a coming-of-age test. One of many, slaughtering the beast was the final.

No simple feat. The Krayt Dragon was long and squat and muscular. One swat of its forearm would send a Raider flying. If one was encountered in the rocks, a Raider could attempt escape. If it found you on the empty dunes. . . The Tusken knew of Raiders who met Krayts on the dunes and were heard, but never seen again.

It was not a fate the Tusken wished upon itself. But still, the nest of a known Dragon was close, and thus Tusken would soon hold the pearl from its stomach, the victor of the fight.

The Tusken stopped at a low dip in the sand. Looking down, it spotted the brown-gray mass that was its prey.

This Dragon was huge. Probably a female, from the size, and the way it curled around the center of the nest. . . This would not be easy if the beast were awake.

Just the Tusken's luck. The Krayt was asleep. It might be simpler than it figured.

Then something flickered at the edge of its vision, a Tusken, like himself. Only. . .the metal horns on the head were different.

The other Tusken was from another tribe, and was no doubt after this same dragon for its coming-of-age trial.

Oh, no you don't, the Tusken thought. The other Tusken lowered its head and raised its weapon, challenging it to come forth and fight it for the right to kill the Krayt Dragon.

Who invited you? The Tusken thought, but it raised its own weapon and prepared to charge around the nest.

Perhaps this would not be as easy as it thought. . .