The harsh klaxon woke her in the chill darkness before suns-rise next morning, calling the slaves to their labor. In her hazy half-wakefulness it was difficult to distinguish dream from reality, and for a desolate moment she was sure none of it had been real. But the shock of her warm bare feet hitting the cold floor drove the last mists of sleep from her mind. She pulled on her leggings and boots, and belted her day tunic and apron over the shift that served for both sleep and undertunic. Then she paused, though she knew she must hurry if she were to have time to grab the slice of stale bread and cup of weak caf that were all the breakfast the slaves were provided. Her hand drifted to her lips, and touched the echo of his kiss that lingered there. That had been real.
She jumped up, unable to contain the wild energy that filled her. She whirled and snatched her comb, dragged it through her hair, and threw it down. She raced to join the long line of bleary-eyed, grouchy women waiting to use the refresher. She quieted then, holding her excitement close within her. She wished there were someone she could tell, another women she could whisper and giggle with, but the poison Darna had sown had lingered long past her departure, and she had still been unable to find a friend among the other slaves.
Her time working in the kitchens that morning crept more slowly than ever before. As the cold desert dawn gave way to the ever-increasing heat of the day, her excited anticipation flagged, replaced by nervous apprehension. When finally the head cook dismissed them to their own meals with an impatient wave of his hand and an admonition to not be a millisecond late returning or he'd take it out of their hides – with a glare at Shmi, who yesterday had slipped in, sweaty and out of breath, several minutes after the rest of the slaves had resumed their work – she was torn between the urge to hurry to meet Kern and a strange reluctance to face him again. How would things have changed between them? Would their comfortable camaraderie be replaced by awkwardness, embarrassment?
He was already there when she arrived at the dining hall, saving her a place near the head of the line as usual. Their eyes met, and understanding flowed between them. All her tension evaporated as she took her place beside him. His arm encircled her waist and pulled her close to him, and she rested her head on his shoulder a moment before drawing back just a little. "So, Kern, how was your morning?" Their conversation was as easy and light as ever. She hoped no one watching would be able to sense the difference, the sparking tingle of energy that played between and around them, transforming their familiar friendly interactions into a dance.
Just being with him was wonderful, even under the stares of so many watching eyes. She glowed with the joy of it. All her senses seemed heightened; colors shone brighter, the stew smelled delicious and delighted her tongue with rich flavors, the babble of voices around them was rhythmic and musical. Though a distant part of her mind was aware how quickly their meager moments of togetherness were slipping past, most of her consciousness was focused firmly in the present, savoring the time they were given.
Relaxed, unhurried, they disposed of their dishes and made their way through the kitchen and out into the courtyard. Then, as the door closed behind them they turned toward each other, and she was once again where she belonged, in his arms, his kiss sweet on her lips, more glorious even than she had remembered.
She drew him to the farthest corner of the courtyard, behind the garbage pile, even its familiar stench of decay less offensive today than usual. "So," she said, seating herself on a rock, "tell me everything. How are we getting out of here?" She had perfect faith, today, that his plan would work. In the blessed glow of their love for each other, nothing could ever possibly go wrong.
He sat down beside her, catching her enthusiasm. "It will have to be at night. I've been making friends with the guards, asking questions here and there. From midnight to dawn there's only a light watch. We'd have to get past the guard at the entrance to the slave quarters, but the compound should be deserted between there and the garage. Then it would just be getting past the perimeter patrol. The key operates one of the little two-man guard speeders. It's fast; it could take us to Mos Eisley before suns-rise. There were rumors, when I was growing up there, of people who would help runaway slaves. I learned a few of the signs and signals, though I don't know if they'd still be using the same ones. If we're lucky, we could find passage on a ship and be off-world before we're even missed here." He shrugged, diffident. "It's a long shot, I know. But if we could get to Naboo or Alderaan or one of the other Republic planets where slavery is illegal, we could claim asylum, and they wouldn't send us back."
"I think it's a good plan." Shmi spoke confidently, but her heart quailed at the dangers entailed.
"If we're going to do it, it will have to be fairly soon. They've got those new explosive implants now. Jabba doesn't think they're stable enough yet – I heard Gardulla lost three slaves the first week after she had them put in when they triggered spontaneously – but as soon as they come out with an improved model Jabba's sure to have us all fitted with them. I bet within a year or two every slave on Tatooine will have one."
Shmi nodded. She had heard rumors of the new devices, implanted deep within a slave's body, programmed to explode if the slave ventured outside their permitted area. She shuddered. Once Jabba adopted the new technology, escape would be essentially impossible.
"What can I do to help?" She doubted there was much she could do, but she had to try.
"The trickiest part will be getting past the guards. I've found out as much about them as I could. The usual night guard for the slave quarters is Irneeto." Shmi nodded. She'd seen the tall, indigo-furred, three-armed alien before. "He's a Mordantian. They're nocturnal, so they're good at night jobs. I've been stopping by his post most nights, chatting with him, getting to know him. I think he'd be open to a bribe, if it was the right thing. Not money; Jabba pays him well and he's not the type to crave more. But something."
"I'll start talking to him when I can," Shmi promised. "Maybe he'll let something slip. What else?"
"Well, all the perimeter guards are Gamorreans, Ketrell and his gang. They're a tight group. Gamorreans don't trust other species, especially humans. I haven't had any luck with any of them."
"I think I know the ones you're talking about. They eat in the servant's dining hall; I serve them every day. I'll watch them."
Kern nodded. "I think that's all we can do now, watch and wait, look for opportunities, and keep making plans." He stared pensively into the distance. She scooted over and leaned against him, and his arm wrapped around her and drew her close. He smiled at her, and their lips met, and for a long lovely time they explored the delightful intimacy of kissing.
Eventually she drew back with a sigh, and grinned at him. "Come on. The head cook is going to be furious if I'm late again." Hand in hand they hurried into the kitchen and through the corridors, parting with a lingering touch where their paths diverged.
As she served the employees their evening meal that night, she watched for the guards Kern had told her about. There were the Gamorreans, tusks protruding from their long snouts, laughing and joking among themselves, demanding huge portions of food, always remaining in a tight, insular cluster.
Irneeto couldn't have been more of a contrast, as he shuffled in alone just before they stopped serving. He took only a small portion. The bright smile Shmi aimed at the large golden eyes set deep in his furry blue face was completely ignored. He sat alone, downed his meager meal quickly, and was off before Shmi could muster an excuse to venture near his table.
Watching his retreating form, she thoughtfully tucked a few more of the fruits he had chosen into her pocket.
Late that evening, well after suns-set, when she would normally have been crawling into bed in preparation for another early morning and long day, she slipped out to the main entrance to the slave quarters. The heavy metal grate was closed and locked, and Irneeto leaned idly against the wall next to it, eyes wandering back and forth between the right corridor, which led to the women's rooms, and the left corridor, which led to the men's.
He spotted her well before she drew near, his eyes glowing at her with the concentrated reflection of the single dim light that burned beside the gate. She approached him nervously. "Excuse me, sir."
"You should be in your quarters, slave." His voice was bored.
She tried to keep her voice from squeaking. "I know, sir. It's just… you took so little, at supper, that I thought you might get hungry, so I brought you this." Her hand only trembled a little as she extended a fruit for his inspection.
His lazy posture didn't change, but the center of his three arms reached quickly for it. Eyes fixed on her, he sniffed it, then polished it on his fur before sinking his long, sharp teeth into it. He chewed, and swallowed. Only then did a small smile soften his stern features.
"I suppose you want me to let one of the men by, so he can come to your bed. Very well, which one shall it be?"
"Oh, no." Shmi felt herself blushing hotly. Would he really let Kern pass, if I asked him? "That's not it at all. I just wanted to do something nice for you…"
The blue alien made a disbelieving noise, and eyed her sardonically. She looked down, pulled another fruit from her pocket, and held it out to him.
He sighed, exasperated but with a touch of humor, and took the fruit. "Your ploy is transparent, but at least you're observant. If I want to eat at all, I have to get up ridiculously early, and join all those sun-lovers stuffing themselves, when I can barely stomach a few bites. Then at full dark, when I would welcome a hearty meal, there's no food to be had, so I go hungry all the night long, until finally when I can barely keep awake the kitchens are serving again. You chose your bribe well, offering me food. Next time, make it a nice hot bantha steak, and I'll be quite blind when your lover goes by."
"I'll remember that." She backed away, bobbing a curtsy and nodding. When she felt she was far enough away she turned and fled down the corridor, his barking laughter echoing after her.