Author's Note: musicis4ever, thanks! Sorry for the mistakes, English is not my and Darth Corsa's spoken language, and we have no Beta-reader now.
Obi-Wan put the sharp knife aside and shook his tired hands. He had been working in the kitchen for already almost two hours, but the large amount of crumpled mushrooms seemed to remain the same. Shmi was doing something in the living room. All the rest of the day she had been making Kenobi help her with housework; however, it was a chance for him to think much about the situation alone.
Could the Jedi consider themselves safe?
On the one hand, Shmi really helped Qui-Gon and robustly sheltered Obi-Wan (he even knew where to hide, if someone came). If she had not wanted to save the Jedi, she would only have to pass them by in the street. Contrary, Obi-Wan sensed her concern with their safety. For now, at least.
Indeed, should Kenobi fully trust her? It was an option for Shmi to leave the house at night and to betray both the visitors to Hutts. Or even worse: all this sudden rescue could be enemy's show from the very beginning. That meant, the house would appear to be their prison and Shmi's care about Obi-Wan's safety only had the purpose to keep him inside. At last, even if Shmi was clear, they could miss shadowing from distance while they had been carrying Qui-Gon.
Kenobi took the knife back and continued scrubbing mushrooms.
Shmi's last words about him worried Obi-Wan. She learned that Padawan's comlink was broken and said it had played into her hand… What did she mean? Was she satisfied that the Jedi was cut off from the Order or was there something which Shmi herself was afraid of, related to this?
Besides, she somehow knew that they two were the Jedi. Which way could Shmi learn this? Kenobi could swear that she had not seen him with ignited lightsaber, and his masking was perfect. Obi-Wan had never met Shmi before and he was sure that if Qui-Gon had had, he would definitely notify his Padawan about the ally if the worst came to the worst. The Padawan really had no idea about how could they be revealed…
Hey! There it was. The gangsters had discovered the Jedi expectantly, too. What if Shmi was acknowledged about the enemies' plan, but betrayed her… masters and decided to save the Jedi? This theory explained much: Shmi now had an information source on them, and, of course, she was interested in hiding her guests best. Comlink transmission was dangerous because it could be intercepted, or the rescue team could draw undesired gangsters attention to Shmi. Now it was not a problem anymore, which, indeed, "played into Shmi's hand". So, she had a plan of some kind—their chance to survive. For both the Padawan and his Master.
Kenobi wanted to believe in this so much that he tripled the speed of scrubbing because of enthusiasm and even slightly cut his finger. The pain made Obi-Wan calm down his mind. The last option looked very attractive, but it required being checked. And as far as it was almost the only positive one, he had to recheck it twice, then. There was the only way to do so—to talk to Shmi.
Not too soon, but the time came. Kenobi thought that Shmi came with another task when she suddenly invited him to sit down to the supper table. The meal was simple, but surprisingly various—from bakeries and fruit to mushrooms and soup—and quite delicious. The Padawan was tired and hungry, so that he tucked away the food; at last, he himself helped prepare it. He also secretly put a few pieces to the pockets on his utility belt—for the future, just in case.
They did not speak while eating. However, when the plates got nearly empty, Kenobi decided to start the conversation—neutrally and carefully.
"You see, I didn't expect any local to help us," he tried tried to sound casual.
"That's the biggest problem here: no one helps anybody," Shmi answered seriously, frowning. "Tatooine changes everyone."
"And you've been here not for so long, have you?" Obi-Wan made his first attempt to learn more about her.
"Well… Long enough to be able to hide you from gangsters, but rather short to leave you dying." She answered indirectly and gave Kenobi a precise look: "You haven't named yourself yet."
Obi-Wan hesitated whether to tell the truth or not. Even if they were revealed to be the Jedi, nobody knew Kenobi and his Master's names; Shmi did not need it too.
"I'm Ben," he answered. "And the one you've saved is Sharhick. I hope, he'll be fine?" Kenobi could not help asking anxiously.
Suddenly, Shmi hemmed.
"As far as I know, a Padawan must not tell lies!" She looked sideways to the door of the room where Qui-Gon was. "We met before —me and him. Jedi Knight Qui-Gon Jinn."
Obi-Wan had to regain all his self-control to suppress any confusion on his face and to make his voice serious instead:
"Master Qui-Gon Jinn already," he said not without a bit of proud. "You see, we're on a secret mission here—we use pseudonyms and disguise. Actually, I'm Obi-Wan, but you can call me Ben, just as some of my friends do."
"OK, Ben," Shmi nodded slowly, showing—or pretending so—that Kenobi's words made sense. "Perhaps, it's useless and even dangerous to ask more about your mission. Then, listen carefully: in three or four days Qui-Gon will get well enough to move out of here. Until that time I'll have been able to hide you. Do you have a space transport?"
"Actually, I don't know," Obi-Wan confessed sadly. "We had one at the platform, but since we're attacked, nobody can claim it's still there, without a trap and ready for flight. If only I contacted the Coruscant!" He noticed. "Is it possible to find a transmitter?"
"Oh, yes, it's Tatooine," Shmi sighed. "Let's hope your ship's there and it's intact, even if they've left some guardians near it. And again, it's Tatooine, so that the slaves can't own communication devices—"
"Slaves? You said—slaves? What do you mean?" Obi-Wan interrupted her with dull questions, though he understood it at once.
That was just because he was not prepared to hear such a thing. The Padawan spent nearly all his life in the Core Worlds, where nobody ever thought about slavery. However, it even proved his theory further more: it was a chance for a slave to get freedom, helping the Jedi, perhaps. It was Tatooine, indeed: everyone looked for profit here.
"Yes, slaves. I'm a slave." Shmi answered strictly. "Amused? Or disappointed, maybe?"
"Oh, no… Never mind… Oh, sorry! I mean—" Kenobi objected actively, confused.
"And I did so," she stopped the Padawan's flow of excuses. "Yes, I was amused, when it suddenly became my brutal reality. However, you don't need to know much about me, do you?" Shmi completely made shocked Kenobi just sit and listen to her. "Practically, it means I can't leave Mos Eisley and a sensor shows my location to the master." She caught Obi-Wan's silent question. "To Gordulla the Hutt."
It all fits. Gordulla was sure his controlled property would always be loyal to him.
"By the way, it's about the life stories," Shmi suddenly said, using Obi-Wan's confuse. "How long have you been a Padawan to Qui-Gon? You're not his first Apprentice, right?"
"Em… Yes, my Master is experienced: I'm his second Padawan already. His first one was Xanatos, but then—" Kenobi stopped. He thought it would be wrong to tell Shmi about Xanatos' betrayal: it could damage Jinn's reputation.
"What did you say?" She interrupted him at the same moment.
Obi-Wan began to fidget: "Well, I don't know exactly, but he's not in the Order now. As for me," he hurried to change the subject: "Master Jinn had been refusing taking Padawans for a long time, and I myself had been already packing my things for the Agricorps when he accepted me at last. It happened about two weeks ago."
Shmi was listening to him, sitting in some kind of stupor.
"And how do you like him?" She asked abruptly.
"You see, Qui-Gon's known as a great Jedi for his age…" Shmi moved her lips nervously, but said nothing. "…but I expected something other. I thought, the Master would become more than my best friend and a reliable example. However, he acts much free than most of other Jedi, but he requires unassisted decisions from me, too, and he's strict when I fail," Kenobi complained. "It's on the way to building our training bond, I think."
"The Jedi Knight must be able to decide independently and with no right to make a mistake, doesn't he?" Shmi asked Obi-Wan seriously.
"Yes, of course, but sometimes…" The Padawan sighed. "And how did you become a slave?" He could not help asking, although he was not sure in this decision.
And he made a mistake.
"Stop that! It's not of your concern." Shmi blurted out rudely. "If your own Master doesn't allow you any extras, don't expect this from me." Then, she continued softer: "OK, from your words I recognize Qui-Gon I remembered. As for transmitter… I repair broken electronics and, maybe, the Force will send something suitable."
"I'll help you," Kenobi suggested vividly. "I'm good at fixing things; not as good as Qui-Gon though, he's a natural master—"
"Jinn's master of something?" Shmi raised her brow skeptically. "Anyway, the Council will start looking for you soon, won't they? At least, do the Masters know you're here?"
"Yes, they do, but… The Council won't worry for a month or so, the plan— I meant, it was one of the possible ways. The bandits will definitely start first."
"They already have," She corrected him. "Well, in fact, you're here alone. At least, have you finished your business on Tatooine?"
"We did all we could," Kenobi growled. "Perhaps, we'll need to come back once… or someone other will come. By all means!"
Shmi did not answer, being deep in her thoughts. Obi-Wan collected the dishes without request to wash them. He knew that the conversation was only the first step on the hard way to the Temple, but it was done, and he did it well.
Kenobi was already entering his room, when Shmi called him:
"Leave here the food you took. I don't need breadcrumbs all over the house."