103
Dance
"Lightsaber combat is like a ballroom dance," Jedi Master Dooku explained, his emerald green saber lit and held at his side in the traditional Makashi en garde. "There can be a single partner or several and all which must know the steps or fall trying to stay with the flow of the music."
"Then just get up," commented a youngling who looked like he was about to be on his last year before he would be sent to the Service Corps. He shrank underneath the scowl the older Jedi gave him and cast his green eyes down.
"Unlike a ballroom dance there are rarely chances for you to get back up," Dooku warned and twirled his lightsaber once at his side before motioning to a younger Knight nearby. He ignited his own green bladed weapon and stood ready in an Ataru stance. "Qui-Gon here will help me demonstrate exactly how fluid dueling is and how one misstep can cost you the fight."
"Just go easy on me, Master," asked the younger man. "I don't think my pride will be able to handle a good trouncing by you in front of these younglings."
Dooku chuckled and saluted his former Padawan. "I make no promises, Padawan." He wasted not another word as he caught Qui-Gon by surprise with an airborne somersault forward and the two Jedi dueled across the salon in front of the younglings.
"I thought you hated lightsaber theatrics," hissed Qui-Gon as he fought Dooku for dominance in the saber lock. The older Jedi merely smirked back at him and pulled away with a push against his opponent and a spin.
Emerald green slashed around when he completed the three-sixty turn and met the lighter green of Qui-Gon. "I do, but that doesn't mean I won't use it to my advantage, my old apprentice."
"Old? Look who's talking old man," quipped Qui. He flipped over his master and spun around to catch the strike at his back before spinning again to try and cleave his Master's legs. Dooku leapt over the blade and brought his downward in which Qui-Gon blocked and pushed back.
"You're letting me win," Qui-Gon said after a moment of forcing his master back with a series of powerful swings.
"Well you did ask me to go easy on you." Qui-Gon rolled his eyes at his master. Dooku forced another saber lock and pushed back against him. "I could up the ante a bit if you like?"
Qui scowled at the mocking tone and did something unexpected and unbecoming of a Jedi, but something Dooku would later admit was completely in Qui-Gon's character to do so. He relaxed on the lock, letting his Master's momentum carry him forward just as his right hand left the saber hilt and hooked his master in the jaw.
Dooku stumbled back and into the benches behind him, completely stunned by the dirty trick. He groaned as he gripped the bench to haul himself upright and stared up at a humming, green blade in his face.
"That was downright dirty and dishonorable, Qui-Gon," chided the master. He glared at the cheeky grin he got in return.
"Sometimes, master, lightsaber combat isn't always a fluid dance but a down right dirty, cantina brawl."
"Brat."
The younglings snickered.