Uh, I’m quite sure you’ll be very pleased with that one, sir. He really is in first-class condition. I’ve worked with him before. Here he comes. Okay, let’s go. Now, don’t you forget this! Why I should stick my neck out for you is quite beyond my capacity! 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! It just isn’t fair. Oh, Biggs is right. I’m never gonna get out of here! Is there anything I might do to help? Well, not unless you can alter time, speed up the harvest, or teleport me off this rock! 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.
It looks like Sandpeople did this, all right. Look, here are Gaffi sticks, Bantha tracks. It’s just…I never heard of them hitting anything this big before. They didn’t. But we are meant to think they did. These tracks are side by side. Sandpeople always ride single file to hide there numbers. These are the same Jawas that sold us Artoo and Threepio. And these blast points, too accurate for Sandpeople. Only Imperial stormtroopers are so precise. Why would Imperial troops want to slaughter Jawas? If they traced the robots here, they may have learned who they sold them to. And that would lead them home! Wait, Luke! It’s too dangerous. Uncle Owen! Aunt Beru! Uncle Owen!