"Before breakfast?" Owen frowned worriedly. "That’s not like him. Did he take the new ’droids with him?" "I think so. I am sure I saw at least one of them with him." "Well," Owen mused, uncomfortable but with nothing to really hang imprecations on, "he’d better have those ridge units repaired by midday or there’ll be hell to pay." An unseen face shielded by smooth white metal emerged from the half-buried life pod that now formed the backbone of a dune slightly higher than its neighbors. The voice sounded efficient, but tired. "Nothing," the inspecting trooper muttered to his several companions. "No tapes, and no sign of habitation." Powerful handguns lowered at the information that the pod was deserted. One of the armored men turned, calling out to an officer standing some distance away. "This is definitely the pod that cleared the rebel ship, sir, but there’s nothing on board." "Yet it set down intact," the officer was murmuring to himself. "It could have done so on automatics, but if it was a true malfunction, then they shouldn’t have been engaged." Something didn’t make sense. "Here’s why there’s nothing on board and no hint of life, sir," a voice declared. The officer turned and strode several paces to where another trooper was kneeling in the sand. He held up an object for the officer’s inspection. It shone in the sun. "Droid plating," the officer observed after a quick glance at the metal fragment. Superior and underling exchanged a significant glance. Then their eyes turned simultaneously to the high mesas off to the north. Gravel and fine sand formed a gritty fog beneath the landspeeder as it slid across the rippling wasteland of Tatooine on humming repulsors. Occasionally the craft would jog slightly as it encountered a dip or slight rise, to return to its smooth passage as its pilot compensated for the change in terrain. Luke leaned back in the seat, luxuriating in unaccustomed relaxation as Threepio skillfully directed the powerful landcraft around dunes and rocky outcrops. "You handle a landspeeder pretty well, for a machine," he noted admiringly. "Thank you, sir," a gratified Threepio responded, his eyes never moving from the landscape ahead. "I was not lying to your uncle when I claimed versatility as my middle name. In fact, on occasion I have been called upon to perform unexpected functions in circumstances which would have appalled my designers." Something pinged behind them, then pinged again. Luke frowned and popped the speeder canopy. A few moments of digging in the motor casing eliminated the metallic bark. "How’s that?" he yelled forward.