"Well, if you're tired, I can find someone else to beat on for a spell," Baze says, matching that smile. He steps onto the mat, light despite his bulk--and his distress about Chirrut. He knows he can't hide that from his friend's mysterious senses, but he can try to do Chirrut a favor and give him a decent sparring match.

Baze settles his bare feet on the mat. He clicks his tongue, and charges in.