Star Wars Trilogy

by Ryder Windham

  Luke looked at C-3PO, and the sight of the wide-eyed droid made a bit of his anger drain. He said, “Well, not unless you can alter time, speed up the harvest, or teleport me off this rock!”

  “I don’t think so, sir,” C-3PO said. “I’m only a droid and not very knowledgeable about such things. Not on this planet, anyway. As a matter of fact, I’m not even sure which planet I’m on.”

  “Well, if there’s a bright center to the universe, you’re on the planet that it’s farthest from.”

  “I see, sir,” C-3PO said, sounding disappointed.

  “Uh, you can call me Luke.”

  “I see, Sir Luke.”

  Luke grinned. “Just Luke.” He knelt beside R2-D2 and began cleaning him.

  “Oh!” C-3PO said, realizing the time had come for introductions. As he rose from the oil bath, he said, “And I am See-Threepio, Human Cyborg Relations, and this is my counterpart, Artoo-Detoo.”

  “Hello,” Luke said to R2-D2.

  R2-D2 beeped.

  Luke was using a chrome pick to scrape several connectors on R2-D2’s head. Examining it more closely, Luke said, “You got a lot of carbon scorching here. It looks like you boys have seen a lot of action.”

  Stepping out of the tub, C-3PO said, “With all we’ve been through, sometimes I’m amazed we’re in as good condition as we are, what with the Rebellion and all.”

  At the mention of the Rebellion, Luke jumped up and whirled at C-3PO. “You know of the Rebellion against the Empire?”

  “That’s how we came to be in your service, if you take my meaning, sir.”

  Luke thought, This is incredible! He said, “Have you been in many battles?”

  “Several, I think,” C-3PO said. “Actually, there’s not much to tell. I’m not much more than an interpreter, and not very good at telling stories. Well, not at making them interesting, anyway.”

  Luke’s shoulders sagged. Even if this droid were a good storyteller, I’m sick and tired of hearing stories about far-off worlds…stories that just make me want to leave Tatooine that much sooner.

  Luke hunkered down and went back to work on R2-D2. He felt a small metal fragment stuck in the upper corner of the data slot below the droid’s head rotation ring, so he reached for a larger pick. “Well, my little friend,” Luke said as he dug into R2-D2’s data slot, “you’ve got something jammed in here real good. Were you on a starcruiser or—”

  The fragment broke loose with a snap, causing Luke to fall back to the garage floor. He sat up to see a flickering three-dimensional hologram of a young woman being projected from a lens on R2-D2’s dome. Speaking via R2-D2’s loudspeaker, the hologram said, “Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.”

  Luke said, “What’s this?”

  R2-D2 beeped quizzically.

  “What is what?!?” C-3PO translated with annoyance. “He asked you a question…What is that?”

  The hologram repeated itself. The woman was dressed in white. She held her arms out, pleading, and said, “Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.” She glanced back over her right shoulder, then returned her gaze forward and bent her knees, extending her right arm like she was touching something. Luke thought, Maybe she’s switching off the holorecorder? Then the hologram looped back to where it started: “Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.”

  R2-D2 whistled in surprise.

  “Oh, he says it’s nothing, sir,” C-3PO informed Luke. “Merely a malfunction. Old data. Pay it no mind.”

  “Who is she?” Luke said in awe. “She’s beautiful.”

  C-3PO said, “I’m afraid I’m not quite sure, sir.” In fact, both C-3PO and R2-D2 did recognize the hologram as Princess Leia Organa. But because Captain Antilles had commanded them to protect her identity and presence onboard the Tantive IV, the protocol droid could not reveal her name.

  Luke couldn’t take his eyes off the flickering image of the woman. The loop continued: “Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope…”

  “I think she was a passenger on our last voyage,” C-3PO allowed. “A person of some importance, sir—I believe. Our captain was attached to—”

  “Is there more to this recording?” Luke interrupted.

  R2-D2 let out several squeaks.

  “Behave yourself, Artoo,” C-3PO scolded. “You’re going to get us into trouble. It’s all right, you can trust him. He’s our new master.”

  R2-D2 whistled and beeped a long message to C-3PO.

  C-3PO looked at Luke. “He says that he’s the property of Obi-Wan Kenobi, a resident of these parts. And it’s a private message for him. Quite frankly, sir, I don’t know what he’s talking about. Our last master was Captain Antilles, but with all we’ve been through, this little Artoo unit has become a bit eccentric.”

  “Obi-Wan Kenobi?” Luke mused. “I wonder if he means old Ben Kenobi?”

  “I beg your pardon, sir, but do you know what he’s talking about?”

  “Well, I don’t know anyone named Obi-Wan, but old Ben lives out beyond the Dune Sea. He’s kind of a strange old hermit.”

  Luke hadn’t seen Ben in five seasons, since the time Luke and his friend Windy had ridden a dewback into the Jundland Wastes, a rocky region that consisted of a mesa and a canyon. The dewback had thrown them into a canyon and ran off. By nightfall, the boys were bruised and tired and lost. Then they’d heard a voice calling Luke’s name. Incredibly, it had been Ben. He’d somehow found them, then guided them back to the Lars homestead. I still don’t know how he knew we were lost, or how he knew my name. But if Ben hadn’t helped us…

  Luke gazed at the hologram again. “I wonder who she is. It sounds like she’s in trouble. I’d better play back the whole thing.”

  R2-D2 beeped a short message to C-3PO.

  “He says the restraining bolt has short-circuited his recording system,” C-3PO translated. “He suggests that if you remove the bolt, he might be able to play back the entire recording.”

  “Hm?” Luke said, so captivated by the hologram that he wasn’t entirely listening. Remove the restraining bolt? “Oh, yeah, well, I guess you’re too small to run away on me if I take this off. Okay.” He reached for a wedged tool and popped the restraining bolt off R2-D2’s side. “There you go.”

  The hologram immediately disappeared.

  “Hey, wait a minute,” Luke said. “Where’d she go? Bring her back! Play back the entire message.”

  R2-D2 beeped innocently.

  “‘What message?’” C-3PO translated with disbelief. He raised a hand and whacked R2-D2’s dome. “The one you’ve just been playing! The one you’re carrying inside your rusty innards!”

  Before Luke or C-3PO could further question R2-D2, Luke’s aunt called from outside the garage. “Luke? Luke!”

  Dinnertime already? “All right,” Luke answered, “I’ll be right there, Aunt Beru.”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” C-3PO said, “but he appears to have picked up a slight flutter.”

  Luke handed the restraining bolt to C-3PO and said, “Here, see what you can do with him. I’ll be right back.”

  As Luke headed out of the garage, C-3PO faced R2-D2 and snapped, “Just you reconsider playing that message for him.”

  R2-D2 beeped.

  “No, I don’t think he likes you at all,” C-3PO answered, turning away.

  R2-D2 beeped again.

  “No, I don’t like you either.”

  R2-D2 let out a sad, whimpering beep.

  Luke left the garage and crossed the courtyard floor to the dining alcove, a cozy arched-ceiling excavation in the courtyard’s wall. His aunt had just put some food in the bowl that was set before his uncle at the head of the table, and she seated herself as Luke walked in.

  Luke sat down at the table and said, “You know, I think that Artoo unit we bought might have been stolen.”

  Owen glowered. “What makes you think that?”

  “Well, I stumbled across a recording while I was cleaning him,” Luke said, helping hi
mself to the neatly prepared dinner. “He says he belongs to someone called Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

  Hearing this name, Owen and Beru exchanged a nervous glance, which went unseen by Luke. Chewing his food thoughtfully, he said, “I thought he might have meant old Ben.” Looking to his uncle, he asked, “Do you know what he’s talking about?”

  “Nmm-mm,” Owen mumbled, keeping his eyes on the food in his bowl.

  “Well, I wonder if he’s related to Ben.”

  “That wizard’s just a crazy old man,” Owen said.

  Luke knew his uncle didn’t like Ben, but had no idea why. The night that Ben had found Luke and Windy in the Jundland Wastes and brought them back to the moisture farm, Owen had become furious. Not at Luke, but at Ben. Owen had told Ben to get off the farm and never come back. I thought Uncle Owen would’ve been grateful to Ben for rescuing me. What does my uncle have against him?

  Owen continued, “Tomorrow I want you to take that Artoo unit into Anchorhead and have its memory erased. That’ll be the end of it. It belongs to us now.”

  “But what if this Obi-Wan comes looking for him?”

  “He won’t,” Owen said flatly. “I don’t think he exists anymore. He died about the same time as your father.”

  Luke brightened. “He knew my father?”

  “I told you to forget it,” Owen snapped. “Your only concern is to prepare those two new droids for tomorrow. In the morning I want them up there on the south ridge working on those condensers.”

  “Yes, sir,” Luke muttered. Why is Uncle Owen so determined to keep me on the farm? Knowing better than to argue with his uncle, Luke took a deep breath. “I think those new droids are going to work out fine,” he said, doing his best to sound casual. Pushing the food around in his bowl, he continued, “In fact, I, uh, was also thinking about our agreement, about me staying on another season. And if these new droids do work out, I want to transmit my application to the Academy this year.”

  Owen’s eyebrows raised, forming creases across his weather-worn forehead. “You mean the next semester before harvest?”

  “Sure,” Luke said. “There’s more than enough droids.”

  “Harvest is when I need you the most,” Owen said. “It’s only one season more. This year we’ll make enough on the harvest that I’ll be able to hire some more hands. And then you can go to the Academy next year. You must understand I need you here, Luke.”

  “But it’s a whole ’nother year.”

  “Look, it’s only one more season.”

  “Yeah,” Luke said, rising from the table, “that’s what you said last year when Biggs and Tank left.”

  “Where are you going?” Beru asked, concerned.

  “It looks like I’m going nowhere,” Luke replied bitterly, stalking past his seated uncle and out of the alcove. “I have to go finish cleaning those droids.”

  As Luke headed out of the courtyard, Beru looked to her husband. “Owen, he can’t stay here forever. Most of his friends have gone. It means so much to him.”

  “I’ll make it up to him next year,” Owen said. “I promise.”

  “Luke’s just not a farmer, Owen,” Beru said with a sad smile. “He has too much of his father in him.”

  Owen stared hard at Beru and said, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Luke stepped out of the homestead’s entrance dome and kicked at the sand. It’s just not fair!

  He couldn’t stop thinking about Biggs Darklighter, his best friend. He’d seen Biggs just the day before, at the Anchorhead settlement power station. Biggs had returned to Tatooine to tell Luke he’d graduated from the Academy and received an assignment as first mate on a space freighter. He’d also confided that he intended to jump ship and join the Rebel Alliance. That was yesterday, and Biggs was already gone.

  I wish I could have left this morning with Biggs. What was it he called Tatooine? “A big hunk of nothing.” Boy, was he ever right. And I’m stuck on it.

  Luke stopped to watch Tatooine’s giant twin suns set over a distant dune range. The hot wind tugged at his tunic.

  There’s no future here. Not for me. But something is out there.…

  The suns sank and vanished beyond the horizon. Luke returned through the entrance dome and proceeded to the garage. It was dark inside and the droids were nowhere in sight. Luke took the droid caller from his utility belt and pressed a button that made a buzzing sound.

  “Aah!” C-3PO cried in response to the caller’s transmitted shock as he jumped out from his hiding place behind the Lars family landspeeder.

  Luke grinned. “What are you doing hiding back there?”

  “It wasn’t my fault, sir,” C-3PO said, his voice trembling. “Please don’t deactivate me. I told him not to go, but he’s faulty, malfunctioning, kept babbling on about his mission.”

  “Oh, no!” Luke said, his grin gone. He raced out of the garage.

  The sky was already dark and filled with stars when Luke rushed out of the domed entrance. He took his macrobinoculars from his belt and raised them to his eyes, scanning the area for R2-D2.

  C-3PO followed Luke onto the salt flat and said, “That Artoo unit has always been a problem. These astrodroids are getting quite out of hand. Even I can’t understand their logic at times.”

  “How could I be so stupid?” Luke said, lowering the macrobinoculars. “He’s nowhere in sight. Blast it!”

  “Pardon me, sir, but couldn’t we go after him?”

  “It’s too dangerous with all the Sand People around. We’ll have to wait until morning.”

  Just then, Owen’s voice called out, “Luke, I’m shutting the power down.”

  Luke turned and answered, “All right, I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He turned back for a final glance across the horizon, then muttered, “Boy, am I gonna get it!” Looking to C-3PO, he said, “You know, that little droid is going to cause me a lot of trouble.”

  Without hesitation, C-3PO replied, “Oh, he excels at that, sir.”

  Owen woke up early and went looking for Luke. After calling for him several times from the courtyard, Owen stepped into the kitchen, where Beru was preparing breakfast.

  “Have you seen Luke this morning?” Owen asked gruffly.

  “He said he had some things to do before he started today, so he left early.”

  “Uh?” Owen said, watching Beru insert food into a cooking unit. “Did he take those two new droids with him?”

  “I think so,” Beru said.

  Owen looked out the doorway, then grumbled, “Well, he better have those units in the south range repaired by midday or there’ll be hell to pay!”

  Luke’s sand-blasted landspeeder raced over the desert. In the vehicle’s open cockpit, C-3PO was behind the controls and Luke sat to his left in the single passenger seat. The landspeeder traveled through the air a mere meter above ground level, and had a top speed of about 250 kilometers per hour. C-3PO didn’t think they were traveling nearly that fast, but when he glanced at the speedometer, he wished he hadn’t. He’d forgotten how much he disliked high speeds. The sight of low-flying bugs splattered against the speeder’s duraplex windshield wasn’t pleasant either.

  But it hadn’t been Luke’s idea to put C-3PO in the driver’s seat. Since piloting ground-effect vehicles was one of C-3PO’s secondary programs, he had offered to take the controls so Luke would be free to scan for R2-D2’s tracks. Luke had agreed.

  After listening to C-3PO’s account of R2-D2 heading for a rock mesa after landing the escape pod in the desert, Luke was fairly certain that the droids had landed in the Dune Sea, and that R2-D2 had been bound for the Jundland Wastes. Luke directed C-3PO to the Wastes, and when they failed to find R2-D2 anywhere on the rock mesa, they steered down into the canyon.

  Luke checked the autoscan on the dashboard’s scopes. “Look,” he said, “there’s a droid on the scanner. Dead ahead. Might be our little Artoo unit. Hit the accelerator.”

  C-3PO hit the accelerator, increasing thrust from the landspeeder�
�s three turbine engines. As expected, the landspeeder went even faster.

  Unfortunately, the landspeeder’s autoscan failed to detect the presence of Sand People.

  Luke and C-3PO found R2-D2 trudging along on the floor of the massive canyon. C-3PO brought the landspeeder to a stop, then he and Luke left the vehicle and hurried over to R2-D2.

  “Hey, whoa,” Luke said, “just where do you think you’re going?”

  R2-D2 stopped and offered some feeble beeps.

  “Master Luke is your rightful owner now,” said C-3PO, angered by R2-D2’s response. “We’ll have no more of this Obi-Wan Kenobi gibberish…and don’t talk to me of your mission either. You’re fortunate he doesn’t blast you into a million pieces right here.”

  “No, it’s all right,” Luke said. “But I think we better go.”

  Suddenly, R2-D2 emitted a flurry of frantic whistles and screams.

  Luke looked to C-3PO and asked, “What’s wrong with him now?”

  C-3PO translated, “There are several creatures approaching from the southeast.”

  “Sand People!” Luke gasped. “Or worse!” He went to his landspeeder and fetched a laser rifle he’d brought along for the ride. “Come on, let’s go have a look.”

  C-3PO could not remember ever hearing about Sand People. He would not have remembered the fierce nomads by their other name—Tusken Raiders—either. In any event, the golden droid was apprehensive.

  Luke repeated, “Come on.” The way he said it, he made it sound like there was nothing to worry about.

  While R2-D2 remained near the landspeeder, C-3PO followed Luke to climb up behind some nearby boulders that were atop a ridge that overlooked the canyon. Luke propped his laser rifle against the boulder that he rested upon, then whipped out his macrobinoculars and peered through them to scan the canyon floor.

  Almost immediately, he spotted two banthas: large, thick-furred quadrupeds, the beasts of burden to the Tusken Raiders.

  “Well, there are two banthas down there,” Luke told C-3PO, “but I don’t see any…wait a second.”

  There was a slight movement near the legs of one bantha, then a humanoid figure came into view. The figure was clothed in a gauzy robe, and his head was masked by bandages, distinctive eye-protection lenses, and a metal-plated breath filter.