Rogue's A Friendly Tussle

Stumbling into a ravine choked with thick prehistoric ferns, I heard the distinct grinding whine of metal joints. Right in front of an ancient stone vault stood a heavy bronze-plated sentinel droid, eyes glowing crimson as its pistons hissed with steam. 'Well now, aren't you a sturdy hunk of scrap metal?' I called out, closing the distance before it could even raise its arm cannon. I ducked clean under its clumsy swinging sweep, drove my shoulder straight into its chassis, and grabbed its armored hydraulic arm with both hands. With a sharp twist, I locked its gear plate against a mossy boulder, grinning right into its glowing visor while sparks popped from its strained manifold.