the night watch by rembrandt

the night watch by rembrandt
the Night Watch
The Nut Gatherers
The Painter's Honeymoon
"Where have you been?" Threepio finally asked. "Hiding, I suppose." Hedecided not to mention the maybe-human. If it had been a hallucination, he wasn'tgoing to give Artoo the satisfaction of knowing how badly recent events had unsettledhis logic circuits. "They'll be coming back this way," he went on, nodding down the corridor andnot giving the small automation a chance to reply, "looking for human survivors.What are we going to do now? They won't trust the word of rebel-owned machinesthat we don't know anything of value. We'll be sent to the spice mines of Kessel ortaken apart for spare components for other, less deserving robots. That's if theydon't consider us potential program traps and blow us apart on sight. If we don't…"But Artoo had already turned and was ambling quickly back down the passageway. "Wait, where are you going? Haven't you been listening to me?" Utteringcurses in several languages, some purely mechanical, Threepio raced fluidly after hisfriend. The Artoo unit, he thought to himself, could be downright close-circuitedwhen it wanted to. Outside the galactic cruiser's control center the corridor was crowded with sullenprisoners gathered by Imperial troops. Some lay wounded, some dying. Severalofficers had been separated from the enlisted ranks and stood in a small group bythemselves, bestowing belligerent looks and threats on the silent knot of troopsholding them at bay.