Original subtitles

Evil plans!

With the Jedi Council focused on the war 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 Military 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!

R2! I ask you to oversee one thing and you allow this?

3PO, 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 R2, 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. 3PO, look, I'm sending you on a mission.

A mission? Oh, my!

Yes, and R2 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, R2.

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?

R2, 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, R2.

I said, come along, R2!

He's right. You should hear me out.

We have no time for this, R2.

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 R2's specialty.

R2? 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!

Murderer! Murderer!

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 3PO 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?

R2 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 R2.

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.

3PO, 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, 3PO,

because if Padmé'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.

3PO, 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.