Star Wars - Kenobi

was nearly an adult when she came to live with A’Yark’s family. A’Yark, still a child, was granted the privilege—too often, a chore—of bestowing on K’Sheek the ways and words of the Tuskens.
    In so doing, A’Yark learned some of the soulless breathings the settlers called words. She remembered them well, evidently, as the one called Ben had understood her today. K’Sheek had spoken many human words, most of them sad. Over time, A’Yark realized her new sister had been living as a slave of the humans. Life with the Tuskens was not freedom, because the Tuskens were not free—bound and cursed, as they were, to inhabit the blasted lands. To K’Sheek, pale and miserable, it was almost more horrible than death. A’Yark often expected her to vanish into the wind.
    But as a long chain of Tusken torturers had found, where humans were concerned, fragile bodies often contained durable spirits. Yark allowed both A’Yark and K’Sheek to learn the ways of the warriors. He had assumed, correctly, that K’Sheek would learn their ways faster—and had defended his daughters against all criticism. There will come a day when all must fight, he had told the elders. We are too few.
    While K’Sheek learned the Tusken words, both sisters learned combat. A’Yark saw that humans had great potential, as K’Sheek’s talent continually amazed. But something more startling was to come over the horizon from the cities and into the Tusken camp.
    A volunteer.
    Sharad Hett had ventured willingly into the wastes, bent on suicide—or, rather, on joining the Tuskens, which was much the same thing. A settler taken by force could enter the tribe, as K’Sheek had; but there was an important difference. The Tuskens had chosen K’Sheek. Sharad Hett had presumed much, and had to be broken.
    A’Yark’s people certainly tried.
    But Sharad had survived the punishments and emerged stronger. The elders whispered he had been part of some ancient and foreign army, suffused with powers from angry spirits. And Sharad carried a great and magical weapon, something no common settler carried. A shining green blade of energy.
    In time, Sharad earned the garb and gaderffii of a Tusken, showing his face to the sky for the last time. He took fellow human K’Sheek as his mate—a match not of convenience, but affection—and together, they had a son, A’Sharad. But K’Sheek had not lived to see their child grow. Might against the enemy was one thing, but Tatooine posed threats of its own. Not long after her son’s birth, K’Sheek disappeared into a sandstorm.
    Vanished into the wind—but A’Yark had not grieved over the loss of her sister. The presence of the child had bound Sharad to the Tuskens for life. Freely using the terrible powers and weapon at his disposal, Sharad became a war leader, training his son alongside him.
    A’Yark saw little of the humans in those times. With her permissive father dead, her lot became that of any other female in the tribe. She took a spouse; she bore children. The group swelled as survivors of other clans joined, and for a time the Tuskens were strong. Under Sharad, structure had replaced chaos. Leadership, something every Tusken defied on principle, seeped into practice as Sharad could have his sway on any issue.
    They feared him, yes. But they also followed. Sharad had never believed the Tuskens were a cursed people. With such a warrior—a wizard, really—the Tuskens could escape their curse and become mighty indeed.
    But that, too, was presumption. For other forces existed on Tatooine, more powerful than any single warrior. The greatest of the Hutts, Jabba, had for some reason manipulated Tusken tribes across the Jundland into an all-out war with the settlers—a fight that had claimed the life of A’Yark’s oldest son, just six cycles old. An answer had to be given, and Sharad had led her clan and others into battle against the Hutts. But Jabba brought many thralls to battle that day, and countless Tusken warriors died, including her spouse, Deen. Sharad had died, too. Even Sharad’s son vanished, although no Tusken ever found the body.
    A bad omen, and it told true. The makeshift Tusken alliance forged by Sharad collapsed, with the surviving clans melting away into the hillsides. A’Yark, a mother holding two little children, found herself forced to hold together what remained of her tribe. The few warriors that had survived were damaged, physically and spiritually; able to hold gaderffii,