Kenobi had made of himself a deliberate target, was standing in
the open between the door and the nearest wing of the command console
array, willfully drawing fire from two of the droids and all three
of the men. His lightsaber was a blue blur, whipping so fast, deflecting
the barrage of blaster bolts into the floor, the ceiling, back toward
the droids and the humans, his defensive offense seemingly effortless,
his face in profile a mask of severe concentration. No fear. No doubt.
Instead, a supreme confidence. Curving his lips, the merest hint of a
smile.