- [first lines]
- C-3PO: What a perilous chain of events. We're lost in a game of chance to a new master, who turns out to be a smuggler. Then we're tossed overboard with the stolen goods whilst he gets himself arrested. Now this wretched salt storm...
- Thall Joben: Threepio, what are the chances of getting the Witch through the service tubes, picking up Jord and getting back without being detected?
- C-3PO: I'm afraid about seven hundred thousand to one, sir.
- Thall Joben: Ah, could be worse.
- Kea Moll: Not much worse...
- Tig Fromm: I think it's time for a long vacation. I understand the swamps of Borga are almost habitable this time of year...
- C-3PO: Artoo Detoo? Oh no! You've been eaten. Consumed by this corrosive acid salt. Farewell Artoo, you were a miracle of modern technology. A, a true prince among droids. Dear, dear friend.
- [R2-D2 bleeps]
- C-3PO: Artoo Detoo?
- [R2 pops up from beneath a hill of sand]
- C-3PO: Miracle of modern technology? I said no such thing.
- [R2 whistles]
- C-3PO: Prince of the scrap pile, if you don't get moving!
- [more whistles from R2 until he trips and falls over]
- C-3PO: Don't think you're just going to rust away and leave me out here alone.