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The garage is cluttered and worn, but a friendly peaceful atmosphere permeates the low grey chamber. Threepio lowers himself into a large tub filled with warm oil. Near the battered Landspeeder little Artoo rests on a large battery with a cord to his face.
THREEPIO: Thank the maker! This oil bath is going to feel so good. I've got such a bad case of dust contamination, I can barely move!
Artoo beeps a muffled reply. Luke seems to be lost in thought as he runs his hand over the damaged fin of a small two-man Skyhopper spaceship resting in a low hangar off the garage. Finally Luke's frustrations get the better of him and he slams a wrench across the workbench.
LUKE: It just isn't fair. Oh, Biggs is right. I'm never gonna get out of here!
THREEPIO: Is there anything I might do to help?
Luke glances at the battered robot. A bit of his anger drains and a tiny smile creeps across his face.
LUKE: Well, not unless you can alter time, speed up the harvest, or teleport me off this rock!
THREEPIO: I don't think so, sir. I'm only a droid and not very knowledgeable about such things. Not on this planet, anyways. As a matter of fact, I'm not even sure which planet I'm on.
LUKE: Well, if there's a bright center to the universe, you're on the planet that it's farthest from.
THREEPIO: I see, sir.
LUKE: Uh, you can call me Luke.
THREEPIO: I see, sir Luke.
LUKE: (laughing) Just Luke.
THREEPIO: And I am See-Threepio, human-cyborg relations, and this is my counterpart, Artoo-Detoo.
LUKE: Hello.
Artoo beeps in response. Luke unplugs Artoo and begins to scrape several connectors on the robot's head with a chrome pick. Threepio climbs out of the oil tub and begins wiping oil from his bronze body.
LUKE: You got a lot of carbon scoring here. It looks like you boys have seen a lot of action.
THREEPIO: 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.
LUKE: You know of the Rebellion against the Empire?
THREEPIO: That's how we came to be in your service, if you take my meaning, sir.
LUKE: Have you been in many battles?
THREEPIO: Several, I think. 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, anyways.
Luke struggles to remove a small metal fragment from Artoo's neck joint. He uses a larger pick.
LUKE: Well, my little friend, you've got something jammed in here real good. Were you on a cruiser or...
The fragment breaks loose with a snap, sending Luke tumbling head over heels. He sits up and sees a twelve-inch three-dimensional hologram of Leia Organa, the Rebel senator, being projected from the face of little Artoo. The image is a rainbow of colors as it flickers and jiggles in the dimly lit garage. Luke's mouth hangs open in awe.
LEIA: Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope.
LUKE: What's this?
Artoo looks around and sheepishly beeps an answer for Threepio to translate. Leia continues to repeat the sentence fragment over and over.
THREEPIO: What is what?!? He asked you a question...(pointing to Leia) What is that?
Artoo whistles his surprise as he pretends to just notice the hologram. He looks around and sheepishly beeps an answer for Threepio to translate. Leia continues to repeat the sentence fragment over and over.
LEIA: Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope. Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope.
THREEPIO: Oh, he says it's nothing, sir. Merely a malfunction. Old data. Pay it no mind.
Luke becomes intrigued by the beautiful girl.
LUKE: Who is she? She's beautiful.
THREEPIO: I'm afraid I'm not quite sure, sir.
LEIA: Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi...
THREEPIO: I think she was a passenger on our last voyage. A person of some importance, sir -- I believe. Our captain was attached to...
LUKE: Is there more to this recording?
Luke reaches out for Artoo but he lets out several frantic squeaks and a whistle.
THREEPIO: Behave yourself, Artoo. You're going to get us in trouble. It's all right, you can trust him. He's our new master.
Artoo whistles and beeps a long message to Threepio.
THREEPIO: He says 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 what we've been through, this little R2 unit has become a bit eccentric.
LUKE: Obi-Wan Kenobi? I wonder if he means old Ben Kenobi?
THREEPIO: I beg your pardon, sir, but do you know what he's talking about?
LUKE: 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's gazes at the beautiful young princess for a few moments.
LUKE: I wonder who she is. It sounds like she's in trouble. I'd better play back the whole thing.
Artoo beeps something to Threepio.
THREEPIO: He says the restraining bolt has short circuited his recording system. He suggests that if you remove the bolt, he might be able to play back the entire recording.
Luke looks longingly at the lovely, little princess and hasn't really heard what Threepio has been saying.
LUKE: H'm? Oh, yeah, well, I guess you're too small to run away on me if I take this off! Okay.
Luke takes a wedged bar and pops the restraining bolt off Artoo's side.
LUKE: There you go.
The princess immediately disappears...
LUKE: Well, wait a minute. Where'd she go? Bring her back! Play back the entire message.
Artoo beeps an innocent reply as Threepio sits up in embarrassment.
THREEPIO: What message? The one you're carrying inside your rusty innards!
A women's voice calls out from another room.
AUNT BERU: Luke? Luke! Come to dinner!
Luke stands up and shakes his head at the malfunctioning robot.
LUKE: All right, I'll be right there, Aunt Beru.
THREEPIO: I'm sorry, sir, but he appears to have picked up a slight flutter.
Luke tosses Artoo's restraining bolt on the workbench and hurries out of the room.
LUKE: Well, see what you can do with him. I'll be right back.
THREEPIO: (to Artoo) Just you reconsider playing that message for him.
Artoo beeps in response.
THREEPIO: No, I don't think he likes you at all.
THREEPIO: No, I don't like you either.
INTERIOR: LARS HOMESTEAD -- DINING AREA.
Luke's Aunt Beru, a warm, motherly woman, fills a pitcher
with blue fluid from a refrigerated container in the well-used
kitchen. She puts the pitcher on a tray with some bowls of
food and starts for the dining area.
Luke sits with his Uncle Owen before a table covered with
steaming bowls of food as Aunt Beru carries in a bowl of red
grain.
LUKE: You know, I think that R2 unit we bought might have been stolen.
OWEN: What makes you think that?
LUKE: Well, I stumbled across a recording while I was cleaning him. He says he belongs to someone called Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Owen is greatly alarmed at the mention of his name, but manages to control himself.
LUKE: I thought he might have meant old Ben. Do you know what he's talking about? Well, I wonder if he's related to Ben.
Owen breaks loose with a fit of uncontrolled anger.
OWEN: That old man's just a crazy old wizard. Tomorrow I want you to take that R2 unit into Anchorhead and have its memory flushed. That'll be the end of it. It belongs to us now.
LUKE: But what if this Obi-Wan comes looking for him?
OWEN: He won't, I don't think he exists any more. He died about the same time as your father.
LUKE: He knew my father?
OWEN: I told you to forget it. Your only concern is to prepare the new droids for tomorrow. In the morning I want them on the south ridge working out those condensers.
LUKE: Yes, sir. I think those new droids are going to work out fine. In fact, I, uh, was also thinking about our agreement about my 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 face becomes a scowl, although he tries to suppress it.
OWEN: You mean the next semester before harvest?
LUKE: Sure, there're more than enough droids.
OWEN: Harvest is when I need you the most. Only one more season. This year we'll make enough on the harvest so I'll be able to hire some more hands. And then you can go to the Academy next year.
Luke continues to toy with his food, not looking at his uncle.
OWEN: You must understand I need you here, Luke.
LUKE: But it's a whole 'nother year.
OWEN: Look, it's only one more season.
Luke pushes his half-eaten plate of food aside and stands.
LUKE: Yeah, that's what you said last year when Biggs and Tank left.
AUNT BERU: Where are you going?
LUKE: It looks like I'm going nowhere. I have to finish cleaning those droids.
Resigned to his fate, Luke paddles out of the room. Owen mechanically finishes his dinner.
AUNT BERU: Owen, he can't stay here forever. Most of his friends have gone. It means so much to him.
OWEN: I'll make it up to him next year. I promise.
AUNT BERU: Luke's just not a farmer, Owen. He has too much of his father in him.
OWEN: That's what I'm afraid of.
EXTERIOR: TATOOINE -- LARS HOMESTEAD.
The giant twin suns of Tatooine slowly disappear behind a distant dune range. Luke stands watching them for a few moments, then reluctantly enters the doomed entrance to the homestead.
INTERIOR: LARS HOMESTEAD -- GARAGE.
Luke enters the garage to discover the robots nowhere in sight. He takes a small control box from his utility belt similar to the one the Jawas were carrying. He activates the box, which creates a low hum, and Threepio, letting out a short yell, pops up from behind the Skyhopper spaceship.
LUKE: What are you doing hiding there?
Threepio stumbles forward, but Artoo is still nowhere in sight.
THREEPIO: It wasn't my fault, sir. Please don't deactivate me. I told him not to go, but he's faulty, malfunctioning; kept babbling on about his mission.
LUKE: Oh, no!
Luke races out of the garage followed by Threepio.
EXTERIOR: TATOOINE -- LARS HOMESTEAD.
Luke rushes out of the small doomed entry to the homestead and searches the darkening horizon for the small triped astro- robot. Threepio struggles out of the homestead and on the salt flat as Luke scans the landscape with his electrobinoculars.
THREEPIO: That R2 unit has always been a problem. These astro-droids are getting quite out of hand. Even I can't understand their logic at times.
LUKE: How could I be so stupid? He's nowhere in sight. Blast it!
THREEPIO: Pardon me, sir, but couldn't we go after him?
LUKE: It's too dangerous with all the Sandpeople around. We'll have to wait until morning.
Owen yells up from the homestead plaza.
OWEN: Luke, I'm shutting the power down for the night.
LUKE: All right, I'll be there in a few minutes. Boy, am I gonna get it.
He takes one final look across the dim horizon.
LUKE: You know that little droid is going to cause me a lot of trouble.
THREEPIO: Oh, he excels at that, sir.
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