Sertmor: "Weak mortal, you better start re-evaluating the situation, me and my brother, Vertmor, are thousands of years old, you think we will be as frail as those fledglings out there? Bah!"
*Vertmor grins. Sertmor runs towards Flax, at a speed barely faster then the best force runner could ever, with little effort. He grabs Flax's saber handle and begins to twist flax's arm.*
Sertmor: "Your powers are weak and slow compared to thousands of years of personal evolution."