Dron hated waiting.
He could fight. He could command. He could put his body between danger and the people he cared about without a second thought. Those were things he understood. Even pain was something he understood. He could take it, push through it, and return it tenfold if that was what needed to be done. This was different. There was nothing for him to hit, nothing for him to threaten, and no enemy standing in front of him that he could kill. All he could do was stand there and wait while someone else fought a battle happening inside their own body.
