Cold rain patters against his armor, yet he pays no mind. He raises his rifle. Eyes of a hawk glare into the scope. One droid, two droids, Crosshair counts. He scoffs to himself, a grin making his way onto his face through his helmet. Is this the best they could do? How pathetic. One shot. Two shots. Both droids tumble to the floor. Crosshair pulls back, glancing over at the door behind himself.

"What is taking them so long...?"