Heirs of the Force

15

It took Em Teedee several moments to recalibrate his sensors after he dropped from Lowbacca’s fiber-belt. He had fallen, bouncing, crashing, and bonking through the canopy until he finally came to rest on a dense mat of leafy vines that tied together the lower branches.

“Master Lowbacca, come back!” he said, amplifying his voice circuits to their maximum volume levels. “Don’t leave me! Oh, dear. I knew that was a bad idea.”

He adjusted his optical sensors so he could see better in the dim light of the lower levels. He was surrounded by thickets that were nearly inaccessible to anyone as large as even a young Wookiee.

“Help! Help me!” Em Teedee shouted again. He decided it would be most effective to continue shouting every forty-five seconds, because he calculated that was the minimum amount of time necessary for anyone nearby to come within earshot.

Unable to move and scout out his location, Em Teedee’s best guess was that he was still twenty meters above the ground. He hoped that no slight jarring of the branches would cause him to break free and tumble down again. If he fell that far to the ground, he might strike one of the rough lava outcroppings and split open his outer casing. With his circuits spilled across the jungle floor, no one would ever be able to put him back together again in the proper fashion. His circuits buzzed at the thought.

Forty-five seconds had passed. He called out again for help, then waited. He shouted repeatedly for the next hour and eleven minutes, hoping desperately to attract some sort of attention, someone to come rescue him.

But when he finally did attract a curious investigator, Em Teedee wished he had kept his vocal circuits switched off.

A large pack of chattering woolamanders scurried through the lower canopy, stirring up leaves and cracking twigs in their hectic passage. The arboreal creatures were loud and agile, able to clamber from thin branches to thick ones and back again without losing their balance. They seemed to be engaged in a contest to see who could yowl and chatter the loudest in the jungle silence as twilight deepened.

Somehow, over all the ruckus, they managed to hear Em Teedee’s cries for help.

Em Teedee knew from his limited database of Yavin 4 that woolamanders were curious, social creatures. Now that they had heard him, they began to search. In only moments, with their sharp, slit-eyed vision, they had spotted the translator droid’s shiny outer casing in the jungle shadows. The pack of colorful, hairy creatures swarmed toward him.

“Oh, no,” Em Teedee cried. “Not you. Please—I was hoping for someone else to rescue me.”

The woolamanders came closer, rattling branches, rustling leaves. Their bright purple fur bristled with suspicion and delight.

“Go away! Shoo!” Em Teedee said.

The woolamanders let out a loud, shrieking celebration of their discovery. A large male snatched Em Teedee from his resting place in the vines.

“Put me down,” Em Teedee said. “I insist that you let go of me at once.”

The large male tossed Em Teedee to his mate, who caught the translator droid and turned him over and around, poking at the shiny circles. She dug her grimy finger into the gold circle of his optical sensors.

“That’s my eye—get your finger away from it! Now I’m upside down. Straighten me out … put me down!”

The female shook and rattled him to see if he would make other noises. When she went to a thick branch and made ready to smash him down on it, as she would crack open a large fruit, Em Teedee set off his automatic alarm sirens, shrieking and whooping at such volume and at such a painful pitch that the female dropped him. He bounced on another leafy branch, then came precariously to rest.

“Help!” Em Teedee wailed.

One of the smaller woolamanders rushed in to snatch him from his resting place. With loud chattering and squeals of delight, the young woolamander dashed along the lower branches, holding his prize high as Em Teedee continued to howl for assistance. The other young woolamanders chased after the youngster, clamoring for the prize.

Em Teedee, in such a panic that he could no longer stand it without overloading his circuits, shut down so he wouldn’t have to see what was about to happen to him.

Sometime late in. the night he powered back on again to find that he could see nothing: his optical sensors were covered with thick fur.

He detected a gentle motion… breathing, snoring. Then the young woolamander stirred in its sleep. It shifted, allowing Em Teedee to discover that the small creature now lay sleeping in the crotch of a tree branch, contentedly hugging his new toy to his fur-covered chest.

Around them, the other family members of the large arboreal group sighed and dozed, resting peacefully. Em Teedee had an im pulse to cry out again for help, still hoping that someone might come to rescue him.

All the noisy woolamanders were finally asleep, though, and Em Teedee decided to treasure this moment of peace. He could only hope for something better to happen the next day.