Soph draws her own crimson saber, and takes up a makashi guard, extending it before her in one hand like a fencer.

Her footwork is good: her posture is textbook. She strikes with technical flawlessness and utter predictability. 

Occlus swats her blade aside easily.

"Again."

She recovers admirably from the swat, but there was an opening there for riposte. Not a large one, but enough for someone like Occlus.

She advances again, more cautiously this time. She makes a probing attack - then strikes for the head. She wastes no movement, spends no unnecessary effort. She would make an ideal model for a student practicing basic forms. 

Occlus ducks her attack and sweeps Soph's feet out from under her in the same motion.

Soph knows how to fall: she rolls and kips up, flicking her saber off so as not to burn herself. When she stands again, she has her blaster drawn in her off-hand. 

As soon as Soph realizes she's holding the gun, she sheepishly puts it back in her shoulder holster. This is not about whether she can shoot through Occlus' guard.

"A good reflex, but yes, that is not the point of this exercise. Again."

Soph returns to her attacks. Despite her strong fundamentals, every strike showcases her lack of flexibility and flow. She could perhaps overwhelm some apprentices with technical strength... but anyone who had seen actual combat would put holes in her quickly.

Occlus begins to follow up her blocks and parries. Most of the time with a strike that would have been lethally or permanently incapacitating had she not stopped short. After each, she steps back and commands another round.

Soph's technical expertise serves her better on the defensive: even off-balance from a parry, she manages to raise her guard in time to stop some of Occlus' counterstrikes. Not all of them, but some. 

Eventually, Occlus does not call another round after she knocks Soph over.

"I have seen enough. Your grasp of theory is acceptable, but you lack practice reacting to an opponent."

She nods. "I've never faced someone with lightsaber combat experience until now."

"You never sparred with your master?"

"I've sparred with Vincoria, yes. But while she was trained by Diabolus and has used her lightsaber against real opponents, she's not 'experienced' at this form of combat."

"Well enough. I have nothing further for you at this time."

Occlus returns to the common area and begins writing something on her datapad.

Vincoria looks up from her own datapad and quirks an eyebrow. "I see your session with Soph went quickly. I suppose it will be my turn soon?"

Soph returns with Occlus, and looks over at her master. 

"You might be better than me, but she's better than you. I don't think you could beat her in a straight duel." 

Occlus doesn't look up.

"You have both more formal training and more experience. I am not so concerned about your skills."

"Still, it has been almost a year since I've had to draw my saber with intent to kill, and decades since my last real engagement. I would rather measure my skill now in a friendly duel, instead of discovering my weaknesses in the middle of combat."

"Very well. After I finish this report."

"Thank you." 

Vincoria returns to her own datapad. 

Seeing that Vincoria does not need her services at the moment, Soph steps back out of the common room.

An hour later, Occlus puts down the datapad and stands up.

"Let us go."

Vincoria stands, packing away her datapad.

"Yes, let's."

To the cargo bay. Occlus stands in the center, lightsaber in hand.

"You may attack when ready."

Vincoria stands still, her saber drawn but unlit. The slight ripples of her weak force presence die away, stilling towards nothingness. She breathes, measuredly, naturally, and listens for Occlus' own. 

There are three times when a fighter cannot move. When they breathe in: when they breathe out: and when they move.