The rhythmic sound against the roof caused his eyes to open. The pattern started slow then proceeded into a rapid succession. A smile crept across his face.

Rain.

Finally, the rainy season had begun and with it a short time of peace.

?They don?t come in the rain?. The thought comforted him as he stared at the ceiling of his adobe. The last rainy season cost him most of his belongings and his house. From then forward he knew how to identify the flash flooding of a wadi.

He setup slowly and went to the makeshift mirror he made out of the side of a metal ammunition box. The time was catching up to him. Deep lines have started to form around his eyes.

?The running?s going to end some time?. Etan had been on the ?run? for over three years now. Once he was part of a family, but that part of his life is over. His concern now was staying one step ahead of them, but with the rain he was going nowhere. The pieced together speeder wouldn?t last long fighting the rain. The speeder was a recent acquisition that was turning out to be more trouble than benefit.

?Someone?s here!? The momentum of the thought caused a flurry of practiced movement. He leaned against a wall looking out the window. The carbine?s weight seemed to be an extension of his body. He felt balanced.

No sound or movement gave away the intruder?s presence. Etan just knew. He felt the person coming. That is how he survived for so long. The Tusken raiders have hunted him for a long time. They tried to attack him from great distances using snipers. They tried full assaults and even sent rabid banthas snarling after him. Etan always managed to evade, but not without leaving a stream of death following him.

But this was different. ?It feels different? This isn?t a Tusken coming for him. The presence of this intruder inked into existence. Etan shifted his weight to gain a better vantage out of the window.

?Nothing.? Nothing was out there. No speeder. No tracks. Nothing.

The rain continued its grand symphony of percussion on the roof of the adobe. The feeling wouldn?t escape him, but was it just his nerves. Three years of dealing with constant attack would start to take its toll, but Etan refused to believe that was what was happening right now. The muscles in his forearm started to tight and muscle memory took over when the intruder appeared only 5 feet from his door.

The carbine snapped up, sights leveled, breathing stopped to gain a steady aim. The shot was clean, but the target disappeared as soon as the carbine?s sights identified it.

Panic. Panic that something or someone could move that fast. He?d seen a mort make a womprat disappear with a flash of his tongue, but this was an unnatural speed.

Etan began to position himself back into a concealed corner of the adobe near the doorway. His slow creep was interrupted by a shadow now falling over his shoulder. Spinning around and dropping to a knee to avoid any blows the figure was now directly upon him.

Weightlessness was the only way to describe what happened next. His entire body became a feather drifting to the floor. His hope vanished when the carbine disappeared from his grip.

The impact with the floor was mild. He stared in disbelief as the figure held his carbine in midair. The weathered brown cloak covered his features.