"Why am I surprised that you actually own a lightsaber?" Maris had her own pair of guard shotos gripped firmly, the red crystals activated and the blades extended. "You are a Jedi and everything... it just seems out-of-place."
"Used it in quite some time, I have not," the green man responded thoughtfully, rolling the small silvery hilt around in his tiny, taloned hands. "No need for it, have I found. Not for many years." His wise green eyes seemed distant for just a moment, as if remembering something from long ago. A battle that had not gone as planned. A battle that had led to his presence on the swamp planet.
Maris Brood paused for a long moment, running her tongue along front of her teeth as she waited through Yoda's moment of introspection. "So, do I come at you, or...?"
Her words were abruptly cut off as Yoda sprung forward. The vibrant emerald blade of his lightsaber extended and slammed into Maris' own, with the zabrak backpedaling just in time to defend from the attack. Yoda was fast – amazingly fast. His hunched, doddering posture, she now realized, was an act. It had always been an act.
Yoda continued his advances, sliding and flipping back and forth, above and behind the apprenticed girl. With each movement his blade swung in a rapid arc, spinning and whirling at speeds that the zabrak could barely see, much less defend against. Her guard shotos whirled reactively, barely deflecting the tiny man's strikes. She could barely move against the onslaught, and she couldn't hope to attack or even aggressively defend – it was all she could do to survive the green man's attack.
The dance continued. Sped up. Yoda, she noticed, was holding back. He was able to control his pace, like the settings on a speeder, and with every few moments of passing combat he would increase the intensity, his little blade an imperceptible blur, an omnipresent blossom of green energy. Maris began to flag out after only two of these increases, sweat slicking her pale, hairless skin. Her eyes darted back and forth, trying to keep track of the tiny man, though eventually that became impossible. Her eyes drifted closed, and she felt something she had not felt since beginning her training with Master Ti – the Force swelling up in her, clean and focused, and directing her. It was easier to sense Yoda's trajectories than watch his movements, and as she concentrated the Force within her, she began to deflect the strikes more solidly, even as her new master increased his speed.
It was over as soon as it began. The attacks stopped, and Maris slowly opened her eyes, panting hard. A thick sheen of sweat caused the zabrak girl to glisten and glow, the Force within her seeming to radiate out.
"Focused within you, the Force has," Yoda said calmly, showing no outward exhaustion from their sparring. "Proven my concerns, this has."
"Concerns?" Maris panted, too tired to inquire more specifically.
"Strong in the Force, you were, after the fall of the Jedi. Great duress, great conflict. Then, against Vader's young apprentice, even stronger you became. You lost focus when you lost conflict." Yoda tucked his saber hilt away and summoned his cane from the front of his hut, leaning against it gently. "Even after all of my training, it was not until you were attacked that blossomed in you, the Force did."
"What are you saying? That I'm some sort of thrill-seeker? Addicted to violence?"
Yoda nodded slowly, though his expression remained pensive. "Something like that." He paused again, then continued. "Taught you some of Vapaad, I have. But to advance, require conflict you will. Adventure. Leave Dagobah, you must."
"But I have nowhere to go," Maris protested.
"Then so begins your first adventure."