"...and that red R2 unit." The R5 unit was instantly alert at these words. He had often been mistaken for an R2 unit before, but there was an odd feeling, telling him not to go. He didn't know what to do – obey the young man buying him and the golden protocol droid, or listen to his instincts and not go.
"Come on!" the young man said, a little crossly. Reluctantly, Arfive began heading towards the man, knowing that he shouldn't be going with him. As he began whizzing away with the golden protocol droid, Threepio, he heard a frantic beeping behind him. The blue R2 unit that had been friends with Threepio was doing it's best to follow after them, despite the restraining bolt. One of the Jawas walked towards it and snapped at it in its own language, and Artoo stopped moving, but continued beeping frantically.
Arfive also noticed that its friend had also hesitated, and was looking back towards Artoo. Turning its head to look back at Artoo, and then at Threepio, Arfive felt his metaphorical heart clench. However, that was not the only thing he felt.
Deep inside him, as if the oil powering him was alive, he heard whispering, "The Artoo must be bought by them... it must be... or there is no hope..." No one else heard the whispering.
Now, the Arfive unit was rather smart, and well-running for its age. It could go another several years. It had served in the Clone Wars, and its master had been a Jedi. The Jedi had talked to it, as if it had been its friend, and once, the Jedi had cut itself refilling Arfive's oil, causing some of his blood to get mixed in. Not long afterwards, the two had been on a mission on Tatooine with some clonetroopers, and then the Emperor had issued Order 66. The Jedi had been killed, but Arfive had escaped. He had run into Jawas, and had been with them since.
However, since Arfive had been infused with the blood of a Jedi (albeit accidentally), he knew things that many others didn't. Such as the young man that had bought them. He practically glowed with a Force-presence, not dissimilar to Anakin Skywalker's, and that he was necessary to save the galaxy from the Empire. Or that the Artoo unit he had seen with the Jawas was actually vital to the survival and return of the Jedi. If Artoo was captured by the Empire, then all hope was lost.
Arfive knew what he had to do. He had to influence the two men to purchase Artoo, for the sake of the galaxy – and to keep Artoo and Threepio together. However, they appeared not to want to buy it, and it seemed that they didn't realize Artoo's importance. So, with little hesitation, he did the one thing that could have persuaded them to buy it instead of him.
He blew his motivator.
As his photo receptors dimmed, he noticed the young man call out to the other, "Uncle Owen! This red R2 unit has a bad motivator!" The next part was blurred together; Owen was shouting angrily at the Jawas, and Threepio had seized his chance and was trying to convince the younger man to buy Artoo instead. But he couldn't hear or see too well, as blowing his motivator had damaged his audio and photo receptors.
Briefly, he heard the men agree to buy Artoo, and then he was pulled away buy the Jawas, presumably to be repaired or scrapped. Arfive didn't care; the Force had been with him.
This is the second Star Wars fic that I wrote. I seem to like analyzing what happens in the movies, don't I? Hmm... since Star Wars is not my normal fandom (Mega Man is), how am I doing?