The clanking of the droids is metronomic, even, regulated.
His steps, too, are steady and balanced, though out of time with theirs, slower.
This is not going to be a fair fight.
The clanking halts.
Silence echoes.
One, two, three more steps, and then he, too, stops.
He feels the familiar pull and click as his lightsaber comes into his hand. His feet fall into his usual blade stance, his arms come up, muscles remembering the motions as easily as walking.
The deadly buzzing hum of his lightsaber fills his ear, and he smirks.
Not a fair fight at all.
