Gagnante tumbled forward, a searing bolt of agony tearing through her skull. The Cathar Jedi, with her Force-imbued kick (which was far stronger than her own had been), had connected to her tibia and caused it to fracture.
Dropping her vibroblades so abruptly that all they did was clatter uselessly upon the ground, the Sith could do nothing except kneel on all fours.
Fighting back tears of pain and humiliation, Gagnante gritted her teeth.
For about two minutes, she shut her eyes and tried to heal herself through the Force. She had strength and will the likes of which her Master had rarely seen. If she could knit the bone back together, at least temporarily, then she could keep fighting. If not--she was no longer worthy of her name. It meant "winner", after all. If she surrendered...
Her tibia was unresponsive to her deep meditation. Gagnante decided to try a different strategy. Sometimes opponents were beaten not by brute force, but by stealth and trickery, as in the games of dejarik that she loved to play in her scarce free time.
"You may call me Gagnante," she said, pronouncing it ga-nyahn-tuh. "I wish to know your name before I decide to live or die. You are strong--strong enough in the Force to arouse the attention of my Master, and astonish me."
She dared not reach for the vibroblades. It was too much of a gambit.