Threepio watched, interested, as Luke worked. "There’s a lot of strange carbon scoring here of a seen a lot of action out of the ordinary." "Indeed, sir," Threepio admitted, forgetting to drop the honorific. This time Luke was too absorbed elsewhere to correct him. "Sometimes I’m amazed we’re in as good shape as we are." He added as an afterthought, while still shying away from the thrust of Luke’s question, "What with the rebellion and all." Despite his caution, it seemed to Threepio that he must have given something away, for an almost jawa-like blaze appeared in Luke’s eyes. "You know about the rebellion against the Empire?" he demanded.
" W* ?+ S' K6 W* C" K "In a way," Threepio confessed reluctantly. "The rebellion was responsible for our coming into your service. We are refugees, you se." He did not add from where.1 p% g6 @6 t0 {
Not that Luke appeared to care. "Refugees!" Then I did see a space battle!" He rambled on rapidly, excited. "Tell me where you’ve been—in how many encounters. How is the rebellion going? Does the Empire take it seriously? Have you seen many ships destroyed?" "A bit slower, please, sir," Threepio pleaded. "You misinterpret our status.9 }3 Z! H+ V5 ^% Y, h" J4 X
We were innocent bystanders. Our involvement with the rebellion was of the most marginal nature.% k" f. N. C! ^$ G$ C
"As to battles, we were in several, I think. It is difficult to tell when one is not directly in contact with the actual battle machinery." He shrugged neatly. "Beyond that, there is not much to say. Remember, sir, I am little more than a cosmeticized interpreter and not very good at telling stories or relating histories, and even less proficient at embellishing them. I am a very literal machine." Luke turned away, disappointed, and returned to his cleaning of Artoo Detoo.
_+ {1 S. S0 c0 O5 x Additional scraping turned up something puzzling enough to demand his full attention.1 a2 g: x/ \: a) f( a; A1 F
A small metal fragment was tightly lodged between two bar conduits that would normally form a linkage. Setting down the delicate pick, Luke switched to a larger instrument.* h1 g' j" T/ f- E- u
"Well, my little friend," he murmured, "you’ve got something jammed in here real good." As he pushed and pried Luke directed half his attention to Threepio.
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"Were you on a star freighter or was it—" metal gave way with a powerful crack, and the recoil sent Luke tumbling head over heels. Getting to his feet, he started to curse—then froze, motionless.
% ^% G( G' ~7 W$ H. I( ^+ J The front of the Artoo unit had begun to glow, exuding a three-dimensional image less than one-third of a meter square but precisely defined. The portrait formed within the box was so exquisite that in a couple of minutes Luke discovered he was out of breath—because he had forgotten to breath.5 b+ r' p6 W% `& ]. g8 Z2 M
Despite a superficial sharpness, the image flickered and jiggled unsteadily, as if the recording had been made and installed with haste. Luke stared at the foreign colors being projected into the prosaic atmosphere of the garage and started to form a question. But it was never finished. The lips on the figure moved, and the girl spoke—or rather, seemed to speak. Luke knew the aural accompaniment was generated somewhere within Artoo Detoo’s squat torso.6 ]8 G/ ^4 G+ y' y
"Obi-wan Kenobi," the voice implored huskily, "help me! You’re my only remaining hope." A burst of static dissolved the face momentarily. Then it coalesced again, and once more the voice repeated, "Obi-wan Kenobi, you’re my only remaining hope." With a raspy hum the hologram continued. Luke sat perfectly still for a long moment, considering what he was seeing, then he blinked and directed his words to the Artoo unit.
& d& L/ i! w7 K `- _ "What’s this all about, Artoo Detoo?" the stubby ’droid shifted slightly, the cubish portrait shifting with him, and beeped what sounded vaguely like a sheepish reply.8 [6 w2 v/ K6 I; C, S
Threepio appeared as mystified as Luke. "What is that?" he inquired sharply, gesturing at the speaking portrait and then at Luke. "You were asked a question.+ k+ ^0 x+ k. E. }3 G, _8 `- [
What and who is that, and how are you originating it—and why?" The Artoo unit generated a beep of surprise, for all the world as if just noticing the hologram. This was followed by a whistling stream of information. |