She won't last long if you prolong the duel

You step to one side, knowingly putting her between you and the doorway. She quickly regains a fighting stance, eying you suspiciously in light of your inaction during her pause.

You speak rather casually, with a mocking friendliness that now reminds you of the Chancellor, your new Master, "Do you know who that puppet master is, Serra?"

"I don't care." She spins, bringing a blade slashing at your right leg and another jabbing toward your chest. You swat one away and dodge the other.

"Don't you." It's not a question. "Your denial is what has defeated the Jedi." You launch an intentionally sloppy swing at her shoulder.

She parries it easily. "This hasn't even begun, Skywalker." Another barrage.

You put up a more forceful block, throwing her off-balance. "No, Serra, it's already finished." You counter with a mighty blow, forcing her to meet it with both blades, and you lean in with all your weight and the aid of the ****. She strains. "The Dark Lord is the Chancellor."

She buckles, and you withdraw your attack, letting her stumble backward. Pathetic.

As if on cue, the sound of blaster fire thunders elsewhere in the Temple. The Legion has made its way to the Room of the Thousand Fountains.

Serra Keto trembles. Whether with rage or fear or sheer loss of hope, it makes you grin. The uptight and indomitable Serra Keto, Cin Drallig's greatest pupil...having to come to turns with the truth of her powerlessness.

Then her face hardens, her eyes lock onto you as if you weren't even sentient, and she screams. Like a whirlwind she seethes as she hurls herself at you, crashing against you like a flooded river. Your saber meets strike after pounding strike as her arrhythmic fury rains down, and you find that you might be laughing.

"Damn you!" A powerful lunge at your throat. "Damn you! Fuck you!" A lurching dual strike at your chest. "Why, Anakin!" Tears streaking her face. Another **** barrage of lightsaber blows against you. "Damn you, Anakin Skywalker."