"Ah, well," he chuckles, nervously, "you can't always trust a droid?"

"And I can trust you?" says Qui-Gon, turning to leave. "I think we can find another dealer with more... principles."

"No! Wait!" shouts Watto. "Perhaps we can, ah, go back to the deal you proposed, yes? The ship against the drive and the two slaves, I pay the fee and I get the prize if she wins?"

Qui-Gon gives Watto an icy stare, but eventually nods.

Relief.  Kina had a plan for "I can only get my mom out", but she sure didn't want to test it.  R2-D2 gets a thankful grin.

"Perfect! Then we will meet again at the race, and we will, ah, see who comes out on top!"

"I'll want to speak with the girl, plan things out," says Qui-Gon. And find a podracer, somehow. "I give you my word you'll get her back if she loses, which I doubt she will."

"Your word?" laughs Watto. "Oh, sure. And if you don't, well, I have... safety protocols, yes?" He pats the transmitter on his belt, and watches Kina flinch.

Qui-Gon turns around and strides out of the shop and into the street, yanking Jar Jar away from a can of motor oil and beckoning Padmé, Artoo, and Kina.

Behind them, a probe droid watches, and then scurries away.

Kina grimaces at that reminder of her potential mortality, but doesn't hesitate to scamper off with the rest of them.

...What was that sound?  She doesn't like it.

A few blocks pass in relative silence, save for a warble of <Gratitude> to Artoo, but when she's far enough away, she gets in closer to Qui-Gon and pitches her voice just so in the way of conspiring children making sure their voice doesn't carry, and asks, "...how did you know I have a podracer?"

Well, that would certainly explain it. "Actually, I didn't. I was told that I should act like I had a podracer, by, ah..." He pauses. "Is there anywhere more private we could go to talk?"

"Our house is this way."

Well, at least they have a house. He follows.

When they arrive at Kina's house, Shmi is waiting there, outside the door. "Kina!" she calls, and pulls her into a hug. She looks up at the rest of the group. "Hello? Kina, what's happening?"

"We're going to be Skywalkers for real, after the Classic's done."  Kina hugs her mom tight, still not quite believing it herself.  "...Watto was convinced by the nice lady and this fellow and this wonderful droid to bet the two of us and a hyperdrive against their broken ship that needs a hyperdrive, in a podrace.  I was wondering why I didn't hear long-term danger about wrecking Watto's...Think I just found out."

"A - hyperdrive? Podrace? Wait, bet us?" Instinctively, she starts to back away.

"Not as slaves," Qui-Gon says. "Your freedom."

"I - " She can't even begin to comprehend it, the only thing she says is "Why?"

"Why wouldn't we?" Padmé says. "I didn't even know there still was slavery in the galaxy, but I'm not going to just let Watto abuse you like that."

"I - thank you, but - "

"Actually, ma'am," says Qui-Gon, "I'm afraid I do have a bit of a personal request for you. Could we talk for a moment?"

"Of course," says Shmi. "Come in, come in. Kina, do you want to show them what you've been working on in your room?" She's polite, but clearly means that this conversation isn't intended for Kina.

Padmé and R2-D2 follow Kina into her room. Meanwhile, Jar Jar inspects a bowl of food, and slurps pieces one by one with his tongue.

Sure, mom, you'll get your privacy.  She's reasonably confident that this guy is going to tell her about whatever-it-is anyway, especially if she asks.  It's probably related to the way he knew-without-knowing that she had a podracer, and she was told she really should meet them in the first place.

To her room!  With Padmé!  Huh, there's a droid in the corner, with all the wires and stuff exposed.  There's kind of a whole warren of wires and mechanisms, actually.  "I'm told that it's 'uncouth in certain segments of Core society to invite a lady into your room without a fleshy chaperone', and I hope you don't mind," she says, affecting an accent befitting of protocol droids set to maximum stuffiness, "but frankly I trust Artoodeetoo here to keep whatever they're hiding behind the euphemism," she pronounces with only a bit of hesitation, "of 'virtue' safe more than I trust Jar-Jar.  He's too easily distracted, and if we weren't going to be leaving soon, I'd be yanking his tongue out of the food bowl right now.  But you, you noticed, and you acted, and, I had a plan I could use but it would've been even more dangerous, and, thank you."  And R2-D2 gets a hug!