Pokere's yellow blades flashed and spat, moving fast as they sought their target but yielding gently before the hissing blade of her opponent. She drove forward, her weapons moving in a delicate yet viciously fast dance assisted by the footwork she'd been working on non-stop since she'd been taken on as an apprentice. In, out, up and down. Always fixated on the body of her opponent rather than the weapons. Makashi was precision and grace, designed to win through accuracy and the natural qualities of the lightsaber. If used correctly, it was nigh unstoppable. Or so she'd been led to believe...
That theory went untested as her left hand weapon was neatly clipped out of her hand. After that it was an exercise in holding off the inevitable as she reverted instantly to Shii-Cho in an attempt to defend herself from a Form V practitioner with decades of experience on the Jedi Apprentice. Jedi Nuhok's mother put on a clinic in wearing your opponent's defenses down before finishing the job. Pokere felt she did well enough, her dancing steps extended that effort out much longer than she would have lasted just two weeks before by allowing her to avoid the full brunt of the driving attacks, but it was inevitable. The elder Togruta's blade flashed just an inch or two short of her shoulder and Pokere sighed as she deactivated her own blade to signal her realization of defeat.
"You win, Lady Nuhok. I thought... I was doing so well." She sighed.
"You did do well. I've been doing this a long time and you had me on the retreat this last round until you over-extended on a bad angle. You are an excellent student."
"But I barely lasted thirty seconds..."
"You have been his apprentice for how long now? A week? You already implement his lessons, reflect the training he has put you in, and, however briefly, managed to put a much more experienced opponent on the defensive. That takes a great pupil."
"Or maybe he's just a truly great teacher."