The egg-shaped incubator floated behind the Mandalorian as they traversed the muddy, rugged canyon. Inside, the little green creature stared with wide eyes, curiously watching the lizards scurrying across the ground. The Mandalorian’s instincts told him something was amiss. Sure enough, three Trandoshans leaped out from their hiding spots. The Mandalorian wrested an electro-blade from one, swiftly cutting down two of them. He then raised his pulse rifle, aiming at the third Trandoshan who was charging toward the incubator. A gunshot later, the Trandoshan dissolved into a pile of ash. Among the ashes lay a tracker, making the Mandalorian wonder just how many bounty hunters had gotten their hands on the little green creature’s tracking device.
Finally returning to the landing site of the Razor Crest, he found a group of Jawas had already dismantled the ship into scattered parts. The Mandalorian fired, taking out a few of the pesky scavengers, but he couldn’t stop most of the components from being hauled into their desert crawler. The crawler was like a moving castle. The Mandalorian quickened his pace, leaped onto it, and clung to the body—barely keeping up with the incubator trailing closely behind.
The Jawas tossed out scrap metal and parts from small windows, clattering against his helmet and armor. With great effort, the Mandalorian climbed to the top of the crawler, only to be met by several blaster muzzles aimed at him. A burst of electrifying sparks later, he felt his entire body go numb before tumbling off the crawler.
By the time the Mandalorian regained consciousness, the desert crawler was long gone, leaving only two wide tread marks stretching into the distance. He glanced at the little green creature’s blinking big eyes—there was nothing he could do. The instruments in the Razor Crest had been stripped bare, and even the armory was empty. Unable to leave the planet and with no weapons to assault the Jawas’ fortress, there was only one place left to go: Kuiil’s moisture farm.
Kuiil wasn’t surprised that the Mandalorian had returned alive—the legendary Mandalorians were not to be underestimated. He just never expected that the thing so many had died for would be a little being who couldn’t even speak. Fortunately, Kuiil knew the Jawas well: they only stole and didn’t cause destruction. As long as they found them and retrieved all the parts, they could reassemble the Razor Crest. Then the Mandalorian could deliver the little green creature alive to the client and claim his reward.
Kuiil rode his blurrg, towing the landship. The Mandalorian and the little green creature sat in the vehicle, traveling through the night, following the tread marks in search of the mobile fortress. At daybreak, they finally found the Jawas’ camp. To get the parts back, the Mandalorian had to lay down his weapons and sit on the ground to negotiate with these meter-tall diminutive beings. His Mandalorian armor was non-negotiable, and the little green creature in the vehicle was off the table too. With Kuiil mediating, the Jawas proposed an egg exchange for the parts. Upon hearing this, Kuiil slapped his forehead in regret.
The Mandalorian sat cross-legged in the crawler’s cockpit, his head barely fitting upright. After a bumpy ride, they arrived deep in the valley. At the bottom was a cave dug out of the mud—the nest of the mudhorn, as Kuiil had called it. The Mandalorian pulled out his disruptor gun, turned on his helmet flashlight, and stepped into the pitch-black cave. Groping his way forward, he reached a large pile of rotten straw at the end of the cave. Just as he was about to search for eggs in the straw, an eye emerged from within.
It wasn’t straw—it was the mudhorn’s fur. The Mandalorian fired two shots, but they barely scratched the creature. Instead, he was flung out of the cave. He landed flat on his back, his chest plate dented and twisted, and his pulse rifle fell into the mud, rendered useless. The mudhorn, as large as a hill, charged out of the cave with its sharp horn, knocking the Mandalorian down again as he tried to get up. It then turned toward the incubator at the cave entrance, threatening to sweep everything aside. The Mandalorian quickly fired his wrist cable to pull the incubator to safety. Flames shot from his right wrist, aimed at the enraged beast, but it was like trying to topple a tree with a mere push. The mudhorn tossed him around effortlessly, leaving him defenseless.
Without the egg, he would be stranded on Arvala-7 forever. To get back, he had to kill this giant beast. Exhausted and facing the charging mudhorn, the Mandalorian could only weakly raise his vibro-blade for one last futile effort. The ground-shaking rumble suddenly ceased. The little green creature in the incubator raised its small hand, and the mudhorn was lifted off the ground by an unseen force, writhing wildly in the air. Seizing the opportunity, the Mandalorian thrust his blade into the mudhorn’s eye. The beast crashed to the ground, and the little green creature collapsed inside the incubator, unconscious.
The Jawas got their wish—a furry mudhorn egg. They cracked it open and feasted on the delicious yolk. Kuiil spent the next few days helping the Mandalorian repair the Razor Crest. On the journey back, the Mandalorian watched the still-sleeping little green creature, his mind filled with swirling thoughts.