being selected.
âTake them down to the garage, Luke,â his uncle instructed him. âI want you to have both of them cleaned up by suppertime.â
Luke looked askance at his uncle. âBut I was going into Tosche station to pick up some new power converters and â¦â
âDonât lie to me, Luke,â his uncle warned him sternly. âI donât mind you wasting time with your idle friends, but only after youâve finished your chores. Now hop to itâand before supper, mind.â
Downcast, Luke directed his words irritably to Threepio and the small agricultural robot. He knew better than to argue with his uncle.
âFollow me, you two.â They started for the garage as Owen entered into price negotiations with the jawa.
Other jawas were leading the three remaining machines back into the sandcrawler when something let out an almost pathetic beep. Luke turned to see an Artoo unit breaking formation and starting toward him. It was immediately restrained by a jawa wielding a control device that activated the disk sealed on the machineâs front plate.
Luke studied the rebellious âdroid curiously. Threepio started to say something, considered the circumstancesand thought better of it. Instead, he remained silent, staring straight ahead.
A minute later, something pinged sharply nearby. Glancing down, Luke saw that a head plate had popped off the top of the agricultural âdroid. A grinding noise was coming from within. A second later the machine was throwing internal components all over the sandy ground.
Leaning close, Luke peered inside the expectorating mechanical. He called out, âUncle Owen! The servomotor-central on this cultivator unit is shot. Look â¦â He reached in, tried to adjust the device, and pulled away hurriedly when it began a wild sparking. The odor of crisped insulation and corroded circuitry filled the clear desert air with a pungency redolent of mechanized death.
Owen Lars glared down at the nervous jawa. âWhat kind of junk are you trying to push on us?â
The jawa responded loudly, indignantly, while simultaneously taking a couple of precautionary steps away from the big human. He was distressed that the man was between him and the soothing safety of the sandcrawler.
Meanwhile, Artoo Detoo had scuttled out of the group of machines being led back toward the mobile fortress. Doing so turned out to be simple enough, since all the jawas had their attention focused on the argument between their leader and Lukeâs uncle.
Lacking sufficient armature for wild gesticulation, the Artoo unit suddenly let out a high whistle, then broke it off when it was apparent he had gained Threepioâs attention.
Tapping Luke gently on the shoulder, the tall âdroid whispered conspiratorially into his ear. âIf I might say so,young sir, that Artoo unit is a real bargain. In top condition. I donât believe these creatures have any idea what good shape heâs really in. Donât let all the sand and dust deceive you.â
Luke was in the habit of making instant decisionsâfor good or badâanyway. âUncle Owen!â he called.
Breaking off the argument without taking his attention from the jawa, his uncle glanced quickly at him. Luke gestured toward Artoo Detoo. âWe donât want any trouble. What about swapping thisââ he indicated the burned-out agricultural âdroidââfor that one?â
The older man studied the Artoo unit professionally, then considered the jawas. Though inherently cowards, the tiny desert scavengers
could
be pushed too far. The sandcrawler could flatten the homesteadâat the risk of inciting the human community to lethal vengeance.
Faced with a no-win situation for either side if he pressed too hard, Owen resumed the argument for showâs sake before gruffly assenting. The head jawa consented reluctantly to the trade, and both sides breathed a
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