A snippet from Chapter One.
Because I'm a tease, here's an excerpt from the opening chapter:
Muttering Huttese curses beneath his breath, [Anakin] rocked forward onto his feet and slunk from the cockpit with a pathetic swish of his robes. Obi-Wan glanced at him but chose not to comment.
Anakin kept straight on, passing the small crew quarters to either side of him, along with the ‘fresher, and quickly wound up in the tiny galley where the food processing unit was stored.
Artoo beeped and whirred at him from next to the diminutive table, the droid plugged into a convenient outlet to recharge after the latest mission.
“Hi, Artoo,” Anakin said, patting the droid on the top of his dome. And just like that, his bad mood evaporated. “Almost done charging?”
The silver and blue droid gave a long series of beeps and whistles, only a fourth of which Anakin could translate. More or less.
“Look, I know you think there’s something wrong with this ship, but I swear I’ve been over, in, and around ever centimeter of her. And I can’t find anything the matter. Maybe you’ve been seeing too much of Threepio. I think you’re getting paranoid.”
He resisted the urge to throw his hands over his ears when Artoo squealed something he didn’t need a translation, just a point of reference, for then spun his dome around indignantly and blew a mechanical raspberry at him for good measure.
“What are you doing to that droid?” Obi-Wan called out from the cockpit, sounding annoyed.
“Nothing, Master!” Anakin yelled back, before gently prodding Artoo with his boot. “You behave, Artoo. I’m only saying that I couldn’t find a problem and neither could you. So I think that means that we’ve got nothing to worry about, right?”
Artoo beeped and chattered, apparently unconvinced.
Anakin rolled his eyes. “Fine. Find me the cause of your worries, and we’ll talk.”
There came a snippy be-whoop, and the droid settled back into his power-conserving mode, his lights dimming.
Muttering Huttese curses beneath his breath, [Anakin] rocked forward onto his feet and slunk from the cockpit with a pathetic swish of his robes. Obi-Wan glanced at him but chose not to comment.
Anakin kept straight on, passing the small crew quarters to either side of him, along with the ‘fresher, and quickly wound up in the tiny galley where the food processing unit was stored.
Artoo beeped and whirred at him from next to the diminutive table, the droid plugged into a convenient outlet to recharge after the latest mission.
“Hi, Artoo,” Anakin said, patting the droid on the top of his dome. And just like that, his bad mood evaporated. “Almost done charging?”
The silver and blue droid gave a long series of beeps and whistles, only a fourth of which Anakin could translate. More or less.
“Look, I know you think there’s something wrong with this ship, but I swear I’ve been over, in, and around ever centimeter of her. And I can’t find anything the matter. Maybe you’ve been seeing too much of Threepio. I think you’re getting paranoid.”
He resisted the urge to throw his hands over his ears when Artoo squealed something he didn’t need a translation, just a point of reference, for then spun his dome around indignantly and blew a mechanical raspberry at him for good measure.
“What are you doing to that droid?” Obi-Wan called out from the cockpit, sounding annoyed.
“Nothing, Master!” Anakin yelled back, before gently prodding Artoo with his boot. “You behave, Artoo. I’m only saying that I couldn’t find a problem and neither could you. So I think that means that we’ve got nothing to worry about, right?”
Artoo beeped and chattered, apparently unconvinced.
Anakin rolled his eyes. “Fine. Find me the cause of your worries, and we’ll talk.”
There came a snippy be-whoop, and the droid settled back into his power-conserving mode, his lights dimming.