Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars. I own Jon though.

Thanks for all the reviews though the number is small, It's still nice to know that people are reading my story. I couldn't be happier lol!!!

Jon was off on another quest, this time it was one of great importance, the whole Sand People culture rested on his shoulders. If he failed it could mean the Extinction of the race of the Sand People. He could save millions of lives but at what cost? The lives of thousands of Tusken men? Was it really worth it? Should he have taken Luke's advice and tried to find a peaceful solution to the matter?

"No, never!" Jon said to himself the light that was being filtered through his eyepieces in his mask was blinding him; he must be facing directly towards the twin suns. He tried to put his hand over his eyepieces so they'd filter the light better but it just made it worse. He knew it was going to take time if he waited for the suns to pass over him, time that he wasn't willing to waste for his people.

He suddenly felt a strange chill run through him, but it was like two hundred degrees out here how could he possibly have a chill? Then he thought his senses were trying to tell him something he reached out with them to try to grasp what was bothering him.

And he found it; a full-grown rancor was closing in on him and his Bantha. He immediately stepped off his Bantha preparing to fight the abomination to the death if he had to! But even when he stepped off the Bantha the angle that he was at now didn't help him regain his sight one bit. He then had an idea to take off his mask but he soon discovered that that was an even worse decision.

"Oh god my eyes, ugh!!" he exclaimed with pain, all he saw was bright white light now. The Rancor was coming closer he began to hear it. He activated his light saber letting the pure white blade shine with all its glory and wonder. His senses gave him a fix on where the creature was. He ran toward it hearing its footsteps pick up the pace; it spotted Jon. Jon prepared to give his lightsaber a mighty swing, but the rancor had one of it's own to give.

Jon was tossed along the ground and dropped his lightsaber in the process. He tried to feel for it but it was too far away for him to get it. Jon felt like he was upside down all of a sudden, he tried to get out of the Rancor's grip but it was too strong for him.

He then gathered his energy and force pushed the vile creature twenty feet away from him. He then extended his hand and reclaimed his lightsaber he sensed the Rancor was still on its back. He now had the advantage, running as fast as he could he jumped really high and landed on the creature's stomach and plunged his lightsaber into it, smelling the putrid burning flesh that was coming from the smoke. He made a few more slashes then plunged the saber into the creature's head. The Rancor immediately went limp.

"Good riddance!" Jon said as he turned off the lightsaber. He felt a sharp pain coming from his ribs as he breathed in. He must've hurt them after the Rancor took his first swing at him but he felt he did something more than just cracked them. He clutched his left side as he staggered back to his Bantha who was waiting patiently for his return. He found his mask and put it back on, he still couldn't see but it was better with the eyepiece filter. He mounted his Bantha and continued on his journey.

His expedititon has taken several weeks, he had to leave his Bantha behind and scale the high cliffs, by the third week he felt somebody was following him, his chest pain was excruciating, he had to use Force Healing techniques to keep himself away from not breathing which grew very strenuous.

Once he was out of the mountains he was back on the dunes. His portable Vaporator was empty, and his lips were dry. He saw a black speck in the distance, he used his force techniques to locate the Forbidden City. But that was enough strain on his body that it shut down and Jon collapsed in the sand. some might've thought jon was dead and left him there, but only those that did not know the way of the dunes.

.Scuff marks in the sand were coming close to Jon's body. Four Tuskens uncloaked themselves and stood over him and talked to one another.

"should we save him?" one asked.

"I think we should he fought bravely against the Rancor, and despite injury he braved the high cliffs." Another one said.

"I think we should let him rot in the sun!" one of them laughed.

"No the Master Chieftain would want to speak with him. We must hurry he is dehydrated and needs healing, quickly we must not wait!"

They picked up Jon's body and hurriedly carried him to the Forbidden City, hopefully all is not lost...