Evil plans!
With the Jedi Council
focused on the w*r effort,
criminal minds are left unchecked
to spread fear and corruption.
Galactic gangster Jabba the Hutt
has sent bounty hunter Cad Bane
on a nefarious mission which shall strike
at the heart of the Republic.
Meanwhile, the unsuspecting citizens
of Coruscant go about their daily lives.
Wait, no.
The tendrils belong on the main table
between Anakin and Senator Aang.
- Mistress.
- Not that one.
The red one,
Senator Aang's favorite color is red.
Very well.
You need to take a breath.
This party will work out.
It has to.
Senator Aang holds the deciding vote
on the m*llitary Oversight Committee.
You know how particular the Roonan are.
I need everything to be perfect.
You have nothing to worry about.
Perfect!
For the most important
state banquet of the season,
they send us waiter droids
with malfunctioning digits.
It will be okay.
Those are much too large.
Have you seen the size of Roonan teeth?
Tiny. Tiny!
- Right away.
- Sir?
That won't do at all.
This is a social gathering
for the communal taking of sustenance.
Your effort evokes the terror of younglings
fleeing a flesh-eating monster.
Okay, then.
Oh, my! The garnish!
Artoo! I ask you to oversee one thing
and you allow this?
Threepio, is there a problem?
I am sorry, my lady, but it appears
the dessert is missing its jogan fruit.
So go get one.
I could not possibly leave now.
- Threepio...
- Fine, send Artoo, then.
I'm afraid that may not be
the most appropriate idea.
It was R2-D2 who put us
in this predicament,
quite inadvertently, I'm sure.
Please handle this.
Um...
Okay. Threepio, look,
I'm sending you on a mission.
A mission? Oh, my!
Yes, and Artoo is going along with you.
Oh, my.
This should be more than enough credits
if you don't get swindled.
Swindled? Me?
Yes, you. Go there, come back.
Don't get lost, and don't get distracted.
Of course, Master Anakin.
Come along, Artoo.
Lost! Distracted! I cannot imagine
where Master Anakin gets these ideas.
You are the one who gets distracted.
You most certainly do.
You wander off like a drunken nuna.
I have half a mind to recalibrate
your focusing capacitors.
There they are. The gold one is the target.
Now, get down there and do your job.
At your service, Mr. Bane.
Here we are. Now, listen and learn.
Excuse me, fine sir,
but do you by any chance have jogan fruit?
Do I have jogan?
Can a Jedi use the Force?
I shall take that as a yes.
How much would four cost?
How much you got, my friend?
Artoo, make sure you watch our credits.
My grandpa always told me, "Don't
watch your credits, watch your health."
So while I was watching my health,
someone stole my credits.
My grandpa!
A cautionary tale, indeed.
Might I please purchase four jogan?
Your lucky day.
Only ones left on the planet. Four credits.
Four, that seems fair.
Each.
I don't need you to tell me
what galactic robbery is!
But what choice do we have?
Very well, we will take them.
- Sixteen credits.
- I meant, 32!
You said four each! Four times four is 16!
Thirty-two's the best deal we got today.
Hard times.
Very well, 32, but not one credit more!
You drive a hard bargain.
They're leaving.
Todo, move into position.
I have them marked.
As if you could have done any better.
Anyway, we still have eight credits left.
Which is all you need
to revitalize the you inside.
Excuse me, but were you speaking to us?
No, I'm talking to the you you used to be,
that droid fresh off the assembly line.
Once so nimble before joints squeaked
and wiring frayed.
You remember that sparkling fellow?
I am afraid that was a long time ago,
and my friend and I...
Could use a makeover, could you?
Well... No.
No, our master was most insistent
that we shouldn't deviate from our task,
so this is no time for self-indulgence.
Come along, Artoo.
I said, come along, Artoo!
He's right. You should hear me out.
We have no time for this, Artoo.
But a trip to a maintenance bar
would take no time at all.
A maintenance bar for droids?
After all, why should organics be
the only ones who get pampered?
They should not.
That is why right across the street
there is an oasis of pleasure
designed to put you back in touch
with the original assembly-line you.
R2-D2, where are you going?
We must get back
to the banquet preparation.
As head of protocol, it is vital...
Oh...
Hello and welcome to Droid Spa.
No need for an appointment.
Right this way.
Please, come inside.
Enjoy yourself.
Oh...
The indignity!
Pardon me, sir, but there appears
to have been a terrible mistake.
I don't think so.
Oh, no, I'm quite right.
Why are you putting that there?
To find out what's inside.
Inside?
Just the usual capacitors, nothing special.
It doesn't get more soothing than that,
does it?
Oh, my!
Just sit back, we'll take care of you.
Ready for your decarbonizing buff?
I don't want this gibberish!
I want the plans for the Senate building!
I don't know
what you're talking about.
You're Senator Amidala's personal droid.
I am a protocol droid.
Human-cyborg relations.
I can translate and instruct
on appropriate etiquette,
which in your case, sir,
if you don't mind me saying,
is sorely lacking.
That is exactly the sort of behavior
I am talking about.
According to the analyzer, he is not lying.
His head's totally empty of any information
useful to us.
Empty? I protest. I am fluent in over
six million forms of communication.
I have extensive programming
in the correct...
Ain't that great! A brainless droid.
Worthless.
My lack of knowledge
is not an impediment at all.
Floor plans, blueprints
are not in my programming.
That was always Artoo's specialty.
Artoo? The astromech.
Go fetch me his little pal.
Oh, no! What have I done?
I do not know where your buddy is.
How about taking a look at these items?
Top-drawer titanium,
guaranteed to last longer
than your circuit boards.
Hey, if price is the issue,
then I'll knock six credits off.
You're coming with us.
Hey! Hey, what are you doing?
Hey, what's with the suction thing
on the cart?
Hey, now. No!
Stop him!
That's the wrong droid!
m*rder*r! m*rder*r!
Swindled, me? Might I remind you, sir,
I was once protocol droid
to the chief negotiator
for the entire Manakron system.
Wait a minute, you're not Master Ani.
No. I'm your worst nightmare, pal.
You certainly are.
It's all coming back to me now.
Thanks to you, the only thing coming back
is your little friend.
Oh, no!
This is a nightmare!
He is not here.
Bane will not be pleased
if we come back empty-handed.
If the gold one cannot provide
the information in his current state,
then I shall personally dismantle
every circuit in his plated little body
to get those answers!
That will destroy him.
Noble, yes. Wise? I think not.
Talk to me.
Connections complete.
Ready for download.
Your friend Goldenrod
turned out to be a huge waste of my time.
Something my clients don't have a lot of.
You know what's good for you,
you'll give me what I want.
I can't bear to watch.
Download that data
onto the memory drive.
I will deliver it immediately.
And prepare my ship.
What should we do with these two?
Wipe their memory
and dump them back in the street.
They'll find their way back home.
We can't have
anything looking out of place, can we?
It's so good to see you, Senator Aang.
How good it is to see you,
Senator Amidala.
Where can Threepio be?
I have no idea.
Thanks for the memories.
There you are!
I've been looking all over for you.
I'm certain we're late.
We'll be deactivated for sure.
As you requested,
the floor plans of the Senate.
I'll be needing my full payment now.
Something funny?
The almighty Jabba
requires further assistance.
You saying there's still more moves
to this dance?
Name your price.
I suppose I could rearrange
my busy schedule.
But I'll need details.
And an advance on my services
while we negotiate new terms.
And the advance?
First, the great Jabba
must receive the Council's approval.
The new assignment must be serious.
Jabba wants everyone out
except you, Cad Bane.
Well, well. If it isn't the heads
of the five Hutt families.
Droid, my ancient Huttese is a little rusty.
Tell me what they say.
Jabba and Arok are debating
how important Ziro's release is.
Apparently, Ziro holds in his possession
some dangerous information.
Dangerous to the Hutt Council.
Oruba feels the Council will be safer
with Ziro under their protection.
They want to know who shall take on
this very dangerous task.
That would be me.
Cad Bane, at your service.
I'll take on any job
for the right price.
What are we going to do?
Artoo and C-3PO have not returned
with the jogan fruit for the cake.
I knew this was going to happen,
that's why I sent Artoo.
To the signing of the treaty.
And to my favorite dessert,
jogan fruitcake, yes.
Oh, no.
I'm never going to hear the end of this one.
Threepio, where were you?
You almost missed the whole party!
We encountered some complications, sir.
What kind of complications?
Actually, I have no recollection of my day.
I cannot really explain where I have been.
Thank you.
One, two, three, four.
You're going to have to do
better than that, Threepio,
because if Padm?'s dinner is a disaster,
then you're not the only one
she's going to be mad at.
Anakin, stop worrying.
The cake is right here.
You should really lighten up on these two.
Threepio, you've done a magnificent job.
Oh, my. A magnificent job?
A magnificent job! A magnificent job.
A magnificent job.
A magnificent job.
Well, we're gonna hear about this
one for a while, buddy.
A magnificent job!
A magnificent job. A magnificent job!
A magnificent job.