Two people holding hands, each with a realistic Star Wars tattoo on the forearm: grey and blue R2-D2 on one arm and gold C-3PO on the other.

R2-D2 and C-3PO forearm tattoos

Realism · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

Two forearms are shown with hands clasped, one bearing a grey and blue R2-D2 droid and the other a gold and yellow C-3PO droid, both standing upright and rendered in detailed shading. The droids are drawn in a realistic style with fine tonal gradations on their metal bodies. The background is softly blurred pale cream, with a green tattooed sleeve visible on the upper arm of the left-hand person.

Realism Forearm R2-d2 Star wars Droid Robot Hand

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The odds of us reaching the Haldane Pass before the snow closed it were, by my reckoning, four hundred and twelve to one against, and I informed him of this at every bend. Behind me the little dome-headed unit replied with a rising whistle and a clipped chirp that I have long since stopped translating for the sake of my own composure. We had been walking since the lower refuelling hut, my joints complaining at every step, his treads grinding through the slush like a kettle left on the hob.

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By noon the path narrowed to a shelf of blue ice above a drop I could not see the bottom of. The cargo crate on his back shifted. He beeped that the crossing was perfectly safe. I told him the probability was fourteen percent, and then he extended the one arm he had left and waited, the way he has waited for me through forty years of ruined cities and bad bargains.

I stepped out. The ice sang under my weight. Halfway over, my foot went, the shelf tilted, and his grip closed around my wrist with a clank I felt in my teeth. He hauled. I hauled back. Neither of us said anything elegant, and a good deal of the crate's contents ended up in the abyss.

On the far side I sat down in the snow, arm still linked to his, and waited for my servos to stop trembling. He projected a single thin line of blue light across the drifts, which I am told is the droid equivalent of a sigh. Four hundred and twelve to one, I said, and it was still ridiculous. He chirped agreement. We went on down the other side together, which was, I suppose, the only calculation that had ever mattered.