Title: Grains of Sand Will Wear Away Stone
Fandom: Star Wars (Disclaimer)
Categories: Gen, G
Word Count: 404
Summary: Shmi's place is on Tatooine... because she has work to do.
Shmi took the basket from Jira, checking to make sure the cloth covering the pallies was secure. "These smell fresh," she said, counting out wupiupi into Jira's palm.
"Straight from the underground farms," Jira replied. "I wouldn't send less to the Sandrunners."
"They do need fresh fruit."
In the Sandrunner home that evening, all nine children crowded around her, clapping their hands as Shmi uncovered the basket. She handed out the pallies, and they sat cross-legged on the floor, savoring the first fresh fruit they had had in months. Their mother and half the adults in the neighborhood (as well as many of the children) squeezed themselves into the room wherever they could.
Beneath the pallies lay the flimsiplast inscribed with the latest edition of Sandstorm, the slaves' secret newsletter. Even Shmi did not know where it was produced, though she was one of its main contributors.
"All right, who wants to read the first article?" she asked. "It's about how to start a community fund to save for our freedom together, and how to keep it secret."
"Me! Me!" cried Amina, at nine years old reminding Shmi painfully of Anakin. "Guess what, Auntie Shmi? I read a map for an outworlder who didn't know Huttese last week and he gave me a whole peggat!"
"That's wonderful, Amina! Here, let us see how well you read now."
They took turns reading, learning how to make a salve that soothed lightwhip burns better than anything, tips for keeping old generators running, how the new Mos Eisley chapter was faring, who had been sold and to whom.
Who had been freed.
Anakin had been their best hope for discovering how to disable their slave implants. Yet Shmi was glad he was gone, away from this life, though she knew it was wrong to rejoice that the burden had fallen to someone else's child.
She stayed up late into the night clearing old memory units she had scrounged, readying them for sale. She would rather be with Anakin--but her place was here. Even if free, she would stay on Tatooine, close enough to carry on with her work. Her part was small enough... but whenever she despaired, she repeated the Sandstorm's motto to herself: "A grain of sand is small, but a million grains of sand will wear away stone." She may not see it, but someday, this evil would crumble.