A New Hope Read Free Page B

up to Artoo and embraces him. EXTERIOR TATOOINE —ROCK CANYON —SANDCRAWLER —SUNSET. The enormous Sandcrawler lumbers off toward the magnificent twin suns, which are slowly setting over a distant mountain ridge.
    EXTERIOR TATOOINE —DESERT —DAY.
    Four Imperial stormtroopers mill about in front of the halfburied lifepod that brought Artoo and Threepio to Tatooine. A trooper yells to an officer some distance away. FIRST TROOPER Someone was in the pod. The tracks go off in this direction.
    A second trooper picks a small bit of metal out of the sand and gives it to the first trooper.
    SECOND TROOPER Look, sir —droids.
    EXTERIOR TATOOINE —DUNES.
    The Sandcrawler moves slowly down a great sand dune. INTERIOR SANDCRAWLER.
    Threepio and Artoo noisily bounce along inside the cramped prison chamber. Artoo appears to be shut off.
    THREEPIO Wake up! Wake up!
    Suddenly the shaking and bouncing of the Sandcrawler stops, creating quite a commotion among the mechanical men. Threepio’s fist bangs the head of Artoo whose computer lights pop on as he begins beeping. At the far end of the long chamber a hatch opens, filling the chamber with blinding white light. a dozen or so Jawas make their way through the odd assortment of robots.
    THREEPIO We’re doomed.
    A Jawa starts moving toward them.
    THREEPIO Do you think they’ll melt us down?
    Artoo responds, making beeping sounds.
    THREEPIO Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! Will this never end? EXTERIOR TATOOINE —DESERT —LARS HOMESTEAD —AFTERNOON. The Jawas mutter gibberish as they busily line up their battered captives, including Artoo and Threepio, in front of the enormous Sandcrawler, which is parked beside a small homestead consisting of three large holes in the ground surrounded by several tall moisture vaporators and one small adobe block house.
    The Jawas scurry around fussing over the robots, straightening them up or brushing some dust from a dented metallic elbow. The shrouded little creatures smell horribly, attracting small insects to the dark areas when their mouths and nostrils should be.
    Out of the shadows of a dingy side-building limps Owen Lars, a large burly man in his mid-fifties. His reddish eyes are sunken in a dust-covered face. As the farmer carefully inspects each robot, he is closely followed by his slumpshouldered nephew, Luke Skywa lker. One of the vile little Jawas walks ahead of the farmer spouting an animated sales pitch in a queer, unintelligible language.
    A voice calls out from one of the huge holes that form the homestead. Luke goes over to the edge and sees his Aunt Beru standing in the main courtyard.
    BERU Luke, tell Owen that if he gets a translator to be sure it speaks Bocce.
    LUKE It looks like we don’t have much of a choice but I’ll remind him.
    Luke returns to his uncle as they look over the equipment for sale with the Jawa leader.
    OWEN I have no need for a protocol droid.
    THREEPIO (quickly) Sir —not in an environment such as this -that’s why I’ve also been programmed for over thirty secondary functions that…
    OWEN What I really need is a droid that understands the binary language of moisture vaporators.
    THREEPIO Vaporators! Sir —My first job was programming binary load lifter…very similar to your vaporators. You could say… OWEN Do you speak Bocce?
    THREEPIO Of course I can, sir. It’s like a second language for me…I’m as fluent in Bocce…
    OWEN All right shut up! (turning to Jawa) I’ll take this one. THREEPIO Shutting up, sir.
    OWEN Luke, take these two over to the garage, will you? I want you to have both of them cleaned up before dinner.
    LUKE But I was going into Toshi Station to pick up some power converters…
    OWEN You can waste time with your friends when your chores are done. Now come on, get to it!
    LUKE All right, come on! And the red one, come on. Well, come on, Red, let’s go.
    As the Jawas start to lead the three remaining robots back into the Sandcrawler, Artoo lets out a pathetic little beep and