Reibe held against his blade for a moment, nodding her head in approval. "Not bad," she said. Abruptly, she slid her right hand down the length of her hilt and dug a fingernail into a narrow groove at the hilt's center. The saber split in two and Reibe shoved the kid's lightsaber away from her own, smoothly lifting both halves of her saber and slashing at the kid diagonally. But even one of her youngest students could have seen that one coming once the staff had split in two. But now, she began to use her own form of saber combat, or rather two of them.
In all her years of fighting, Reibe had learned that it was better to take your opponent by surprise than to repeat the same movements until your opponent discovered a weakness. It was for this reason that her lightsaber was designed to come apart as it did. Now in her fighting, she alternated between the dual sabers and the saber staff, connecting and separating the two halves of the staff and switching fighting forms, graceful and effortless, in the blink of an eye.
"You seem to have captured all of Strider's form and none of his character," she observed. "The form is all cut and dried to you." She shook her head. "The only way you would be able to prevail with that bore is if someone slipped up and let you."
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
For a moment, neither woman moved. Then, Andra let out a yelp of surprise. "Don't use the Force on me!" she exclaimed. "If it is to be a fair fight, you have to fight on my level."
Jena grimaced. "I didn't do anything," she protested. Andra shot her a withering glare.
"You were going to," she shot back. Jena held up her hands in surrender.
"Alright!" she sighed. "No Force."
At that moment, she charged, lighting her saber as she swung it downward toward Andra's head. Casually, Andra deflected the blow with Tritch's sword. Then, she spun rapidly, bringing the sword around toward Jena's left side. Jena blocked the blow and began a rapid series of strikes which Andra dodged and blocked with what seemed like relative ease.
"Suppose it helps to know exactly where a blow's going to land before it gets there," Jena observed. "Tell me, Andra... how does it work?"
"I can't tell you how many times during this fight you've injured me," Andra answered. "Every strike, a hit. That's what I see, what I feel... what I prevent by taking action." She blocked another blow. "You lopped off my right arm there... but hearing this, you're loosing your nerve. Your blows aren't coming as hard. Singed my ribs there... ooh, gotcha!"
Jena was puzzled at this last comment until Andra brought the flat of her blade down hard on the Force adept's hands. With a startled yelp, Jena dropped her lightsaber and its ice-blue blade winked out. Andra grinned.
"You let yourself focus too much on who you were fighting," she told her old friend. "Shall we try again? Limited Force power this time. Don't want you flying blind against someone who can get under your skin like that." She winked. Jena nodded and her lightsaber flew up into her hand once more, ice-blue blade flickering on.
"Come at me!" she challenged. With a grin, Andra met her challenge.