Completed Millions of Soldiers; In Fire, Blood, and Steel

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Sharkk

Community Team
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Community Team
Jan 30, 2009
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Thule, a planet that had permanently been steeped in the Dark Side due to the presence of the Sith and their followers for centuries, though this era had been all, but forgotten. With this the former temples and academies there had been repurposed, mostly into aiding in the Confederacy's droid factory works. Beyond this Palpatine had looted them of anything of worth long ago, as such any real Sith knowledge were left over family heirloom trinkets and memories passed down from mouth to ear. Despite this the Dark Side taint remained, it's very aura felt by and feeding any latent or trained Dark Siders which of course included the CIS's number of Acolytes who had begun to be trained where they could, namely being the abandoned Sith Academy that had been used in part as a storehouse as well as the Sith Temple in the center of Hurom which had in part been refurbished as a droid factory.​

It was the latter that experiments went on as well, where the likes of Winslow Killswitch could be found presently awaiting to partake in one such act. It was he and Azael Leandre whom were to test out one of the CIS's new Jedi Killer designs. Having just undergone life saving surgery just a week and a half prior, in which he'd have modified droid parts attached to himself thus becoming a cyborg Winslow found the prospect of powerful droids quite enthralling. Cybernetics and the like were superior to plain flesh in most cases or so he was beginning to think. While his thoughts on his fellow Dark Acolyte Azael remained neutral, he had high hopes for the Jedi Killer-droid. On top of this he was there personally upon request by General Grievous himself who also had personal interest in the new droid, though Winslow also suspected he himself was being tested in this manner too.​

Regardless the white robed cyborg would stand motionless with arms crossed, his clean outfit and look only broken up by the sleek black droid parts that covered his ruined flesh, replaced his left arm, and covered half of his face. Even still if one focused they could see the burns along the edge of where steel met skin. He stood within a large room that was kept clear for training purposes and as such was fully equipped with the likes of training droids from remotes to more combat able models like BXs, weapons, to armor, etc. Elsewhere in the room was Azael, but they were both left waiting the arrival of the droid they were to be testing, though they were not alone as high above and along the center of the ceiling was a square viewbox for VIP, scientists, designers, etc. to bare witness to any experiments or training commencing down below.​

Still Winslow would stand motionless....​
 
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"F*cking schuttas." Aze mumbled to himself as he took one last acrid drag from the end of a Serroco Light Premium Cigarra. He flicked the still-smoking butt aimlessly, exhaling gray-blue smoke and glancing up at the observers in the viewing box. Azael didn't care much for being watched. And he didn't care much for burning his precious free time playing with another one of Grievous' toys.

In truth, he was somewhat proud of having been chosen for such an exhibition. He was intrigued to see this "Jedi Killer." If it was an arrogant title, he did not know; the Vahla did know that killing Jedi was no small feat. He'd faced off against them many times. A few times, he'd even slain a Knight or too. He was also curious to see how he and his counterpart--Winslow, a fellow Acolyte he had seen but did not know--would fair against the machine as to their Force powers. Of course, even Azael, the chaotic nomad he was at heart, comprehended the immense capability of the Force. It was greater than any construct of the mind or matter.

Yet, he knew as well as the scores of Jedi who had fallen before one mechanical onslaught or another, that so many of the Force's practicalities fell useless on mechanical constructs. Azael was a talented telepath, specifically with Force Illusions. He'd been a natural adept, the spawn of the Vahla caravans, tied by blood to the great Dark Side lineage of Vahl, the Destroyer Goddess. His mischievous, but capable nature made him a potent trickster, a Beguiler, some might call it. Sounds, sights, smells, perhaps minor notions or memories, all could be bent if one took firm enough grip of another's mind.

But useless. Abilities like that only worked on those with minds, that is, brains succeptible to trompes d'oueil or distortions in perception. Droids, in his experience, could not fit that description.

Turning away from the view box and his meandering thoughts, Azael assessed this Winslow. He leaned on one side lazily, twirling the clip of his plain silver lightsaber in a wide, casual circle. He was dressed in what had become his well-known way. (link), loose fighting, bright robes in the style of his people. The burgundy contrasted nicely, the vain young hedonist thought, with his gold skin and subtle Vahla graces. His form was lean, but muscled. Azael had a sort of effortless grace about his movements and form, another blessing of his Vahla heritage. He wore his hair in a simple braid, ebony hairs only just beginning to fill from the faded sides. He wore several rings and his right ear was adorned with a small hanging earring and another thin gold chain leading up to a cartilage piercing.

His counterpart couldn't have been different. He felt the Force peeking through and under the faint, dark aura exuded by the half machine. It was no secret that Winslow had undergone radical procedures, for what he couldn't say, but in this state, the other remined Azael a little of their beloved and enwisened Supreme Commander. After a moment, he grinned a crooked grin and flashed pearly teeth.

"Ieneraleto." He broke into a full smile. "It means little general in Vahla. You're like a little Grievous over there."

In his experience, his Acolyte brethren, least of all Grievous, were keen on self-deprecating humor, so under that veil of dopey amusement, Azael was ready to defend himself. "But in all seriousness," his unfamiliar but gentle drawl, "I have heard great things of you, Winslow, and I doubt I'll be dissapointed once that droid gets here. I am Azael, one of the few of our number not dragged up from the likes of turncoat Jedi."

After a moment, he spoke again. "Can I try something? I find even my best illusions ineffective against droids. Do you think they would be at all perceptible to you?" As if to advance the interrogatory, he took a deep breath and extended his hand, and a Cerean Lark appeared in his palm. It chirped a chirpy little chirp song, before fluttering away and vanishing.

"Anything?"
 
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Winslow's neutral outlook on Azael would come to a crashing halt no sooner than the man had begun to open his mouth. From there he'd only dig his hole deeper, this hole being on the cyborg's bad side. For whatever reason Dooku's tertiary trainee was seeking to instigate some sort fire inside of Winslow's belly, but he wasn't your typical hothead. As such he'd at first remain silent, allowing the Hybrid to continue on, an act that would turn into a display of Force Talents. While Winslow was irritated, disrespected, he did find some entertainment in the man's Force Illusions or to be exact what this ability could be used for in the Confederacy's war effort, if used properly.​
However, Winslow had the unique position of viewing the Force Illusion from two realms, being his cybernetic left sensor that replaced his lost eye as well as his regular right eye. So while the latter and his brain were fooled for the most part, he was reminded that it was indeed an illusion as his "droid eye" detailed there being nothing else in the training room, but himself and Azael.​
As such Winslow would simply sneer rather than show any form of enthusiasm toward his fellow Dark Acolyte.​
" A parlor trick to like that might land you a girlfriend, nothing more. Used to trick an entire fleet or an army? Get ahold of me for that display, now that's power. Like this..... "
Venting his frustrations caused by Azael in the form of a stream of purple Force Lightning that screamed and echoed as it stretched across the room only to hiss and stab at the far wall before dying out as Winslow lowered his right hand back to it's respective side.​
 
Azael frowned, sensing the half-man's frustration mount. Not the joking type, I take it. His sense was confirmed with the cyborg's insult and unleashing of Force Lightning. He couldn't hide a grin.

"A girlfriend? Just one?" The thought of having, or maintaining, a "girlfriend" was downright amusing. Yet under his amusement was genuine respect for the display, a sizeable torrent of purple lightning. "Not bad," he whistled, "but you're hardly the first Dark Jedi to discover an art so elusive and demanding. He scoffed and extended his dominant right hand toward the wall. Several sparks of blue-white lightning arced in his palm before dancing across the chamber to similarly die out upon the stone.

"Though I meant no offense, in all seriousness. Just a little prodding before we send their newest bucket of bolts back to the drawing board." He paused for a moment, and surveyed the surrounding area. After some time, he began again, "Though, you should not underestimate the Force's subtler applications. How many clones can your lightning consume before they gun you down or some Jedi schutta cuts you to charred pieces like our beloved Count? But what if their commander was misdirected in his strategies? What if his scouts spotted an approaching hostile and he were to respond only to find he'd thinned out his main force for nothing but a folly? Even Jedi, wise and thorough, could they resist the cry of a small child for help from the shadows? Only to fall before the able fire of a few well-placed Commando droids? I do not mean to demean you, brother, only demand the same respect you demand of me. "

"But it is not we who are under the microscope today is it?" He thought, his attention turning to the far side of the room, where the obsidian gate slid up to foretell the droid's arrival.
 
A speaker system hissed to life as the training room door slid up. A professional-sounding woman voice came through the speaker. “Live test of the EG-9 'Jedi Killer' model against-”

“That would be Jedi
Slayer,” a man curtly corrected her.

The microphone in the observation booth registered the woman's long-suffering sigh through her nose. “...Jedi Slayer, which is sparring against Azael Leandre and Winslow Killswitch.”

On cue, the clicking of metal feet and the dim glow of red photoreceptors heralded the arrival of the titular droid. EG-9 stepped across the threshold and halted, standing absolutely motionless across from the dark acolytes.

The Jedi Slayer stood nearly seven feet tall. It was thin, almost skeletal, and its design took obvious inspiration from MagnaGuards and General Grievous' own cyborg body. Six fingers adorned its hands, and four stubby toes of sorts sprouted from its feet, two on the front and two on the back. The droid's face was angular, and a rounded hood of sorts covered its hood and where its cheeks would be. Its chassis had a CIS-appropriate color scheme of gunmetal blue, with white, black, and red highlights. No weapons or armament was immediately visible on the droid's body, whether integrated or carried weapons. Either it had some manner of concealed weaponry, or it intended to fight them unarmed.

EG-9's head shifted slightly as it looked at each of the acolytes in turn. “Greetings!” he said in a deep yet excessively cheery tone of voice. “You must be my opponents. I look forward to-” a pause, his head tilted, then straightened, “-almost killing you!”

“The test sparring match will begin in ten...” came the woman's voice over the speakers.
 
Grumbling Winslow would slowly and agonizingly roll his eyes into the backward as his point had been missed, after all he hadn't been stating that Force Lightning was more powerful than Force Illusion rather that the latter wasn't useful unless it was used on a grander scale than simple "magic tricks" in the hand. Beyond this his own display of firepower had been because of his want to vent himself, not flaunt his own skills. After all the cyborg really fed on the fact that he wasn't your typical Jedi/former Jedi nor was he your typical Dark Acolyte. He wasn't a blind goody-two-shoes, but he also wasn't an ignorant fiery being. Sure he was capable of being seduced by annoyance and he was kind, he exploded from time to time and he found it hard to attack the likes of defenseless children, but he sought evolution.​
Finding himself lost in these thoughts rather than replying to Azael as a means to correct him Winslow would snap back to reality only when their opposition had begun speaking, having already appeared moments prior. With a fearsome appearance to boot the apparent "Jedi Slayer" was at least from the outside an effective looking droid, but any hidden features and the like were for the Dark Acolytes to...unlock.​
The droid's appearance was distorted by it's almost chipper voice, was this part of it Jedi slaying? Distractions through eerie voice modulars? Narrowing his brow Winslow would be the first to step forward, not waiting for the ten count to finish, but instead already preparing himself once the woman over the speaker had reached "4". Gritting his teeth he'd shift into an open stance before then exploding forward in a sprint, he too opting to take no weapon at first. The droid surely was able to call forth a weapon in the blink of an eye, hidden blasters and blades surely, or saws and axes, who knew.​
Winslow remained somewhat at the ready or rather he was confident in countering the first immediate surprise with his own droid/cyborg limb and hidden weaponry which included a blaster and flamethrower itself even. While his own droid eye allowed him to scan the Jedi Slayer it didn't afford him the ability to define any of it's internal workings, but was it capable of discovering his? With his brow still furrowed Winslow would alter his dead forward sprint during the last fifteen feet, his right hand emitting a stream of Force Lightning directly to the floor just away from the cyborg's own feet. While this did nothing to the floor other than char it and cause a screeching noise this was just Winslow using his own distraction of sorts as he slowly raised his hand from facing the floor up to directly pointing toward the droid opposite to himself.​
Closing the fifteen foot gap to just five feet then he'd turn his hand so that his elbow was bent and his open palm was facing the droid, as if he was rearing back to palm thrust them, only to lunge forward in attempt to grab onto the droid's head itself with Winslow's droid appendage. At the last second though the lightning would cease flying from his right hand while his left palm would open up, emitting a torrent of wild flames then as Winslow continued ahead in attempt to latch his black steel fingers around the Jedi Slayer's face/head. If he could he'd aim to use his speed and leverage to knock the droid off balance before Winslow even touched his own feet back to the floor, from there if he was able to plant down he'd try to swiftly rotate around to throw the droid up into the air and toward Azael. If not he'd merely remain at the ready to react to the Jedi Slayers counterattack, after all a plan was one thing, he had to achieve his goals first.​
 
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"Well hello to you too," Azael replied, grinning and wide-eyed at the bizarrely cordial greeting. "Likewise."

Yet Azael wasted no time in joining the other Acolyte's attack, activating the red blade of his lightsaber and centering himself in the Force. Gripping the hilt backhand, he caught on to the attempted distraction by Winslow, and attempted to render a distraction of his own. Bending the currents of Force energy around him, Azael lifted what stray debris was around, slowly, falteringly at first, and then hurled the whirling cloud of makeshift projectiles at the hulk, just in time to join the other's sparking assault.

He then closed the distance between himself and the other two, taking a defensive stance as he admired Winslow's initiative. It was true, that his modifications afforded the cyborg new tactical avenues. He would have to consider that. Feeling the energies surrounding the dancing trio distort ever so slightly again, he prepared to summon a powerful pull of kinetic energy, hopefully stunning the droid long enough to be pulled within reach of his waiting crimson blade. He waited for the right moment as the two machines grappled.

He was genuinely impressed thusfar with the other Acolyte, but was far more curious about this Slayer's capabilities. Could it be the edge they needed to beat the Jedi into submission once and for all?
 
EG-9's head cocked again as lightning lashed out from Winslow's hand. “Fascinating!” he exclaimed.

The droid nimbly sprang to the side as the lightning drew closer. He tucked and rolled, dodging the crackling forks and the worst of Azael's hurled debris. Some debris did bounce off his chassis, but it wasn't enough to really damage him. On the way, he seized a bent pipe in his claws. Upon completing his somersault, EG-9 immediately launched himself into a dead sprint for Azael. The speed at which he moved was comparable to Grievous.

While running, EG-9 drew the pipe back as if to throw at Azael. Then his torso, independent of his head and waist, spun around once. The rotation was complete within a second. Instead of Azael, it allowed EG-9 to fling the pipe at Winslow with great velocity. The pipe left his claws as a lead blur aimed right for the cyborg's midsection.

It was impressive from an outside perspective, really, considering that EG-9 accomplished the feat without stumbling or slowing. In fact, his stride never faltered, instead compensating perfectly for the sudden spin.

As he rushed Azael, EG-9's claws were readied to shoot out and grab the acolyte, if not stab into his body.
 
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Winslow's forward charge would come to a sliding halt as he was forced to raise his lightsaber in time to narrowly avoid the blur sent his way, the droid having proved it's swift power already. Cleaving a lead pipe in two would cause either piece to continue on past Winslow in a flying v while the Acolyte shifted into a less straight posture so he could sprint forward again. Watching on as the droid reached after Azael, Winslow would use The Force around his feet, springing up and toward the pair ahead of him. Bring his lightsaber around from aimed down to up and around his shoulder for an overhead swing threatening to cleave off the droid's clawed hand.​
The droid obviously reminded him of the IG-100 droids, and even Grievous, but it's unique body work had him thinking about the newer IG-100/2 models. Whether his attacked landed or not mattered little, it was merely a separation maneuver meant to stop the droid from latching onto Azael or worse....As such as he came swooping in he'd be swift to turn on his heel once he slid through/past the two, rotating about he'd raise and take aim with his cybernetic limb once more. However this time he'd fire a forearm attached double-barreled repeating blaster, unleashing four shots in rapid succession aimed for the droid's left side.​
 
(OOC: I'll just assume Azael was stunned by an errant blow or something.)

Winslow felt contact with his saber as he blew past Azael and EG-9, preventing the latter from getting grabbed or stabbed. So it was rather strange that the droid's arms were both fully intact when he turned to open fire on it.

EG-9 took a blaster bolt to the gut and the waist before he could move. It scored his chassis, but not by much; apparently, it would take more than a blaster to destroy him. He took a few quick steps to the side to dodge the next few shots, then sprang directly at Winslow. While the short distance between them made it easier for Winslow to land a shot on EG-9, it also meant that there wasn't much time for the cyborg to react.

The Jedi Slayer's claws shot out as he all but rocketed through the air. One hand aimed to grab Winslow's cybernetic arm and twist it so the blaster barrel was pointing away, while the other reached out to seize Winslow's saber arm by the wrist.
 
Cursing himself as he let himself be caught off guard and slashed by claws as well as being latched onto Winslow would only momentarily resist with his right arm, knowing full and well that his organic limb could not release itself from a droid's cold grip. Instead he'd attempt to pull the droid off balance, yanking out and down with his left arm he would then hope to catch the droid off guard by delivering a headbutt to it. Figuring that the droid would never suspect an organic being to actually headbutt it directly in the face the Acolyte summarized that it might offer him just a fleeting moment of confusion to capitalize on.​
Dropping his lightsaber he'd finally yank his left hand free whether the headbutt landed or not, however with his right wrist still held onto he'd have to find a means to free himself. Thankfully his left arm was a cyborg replacement and could move in ways his normal one could not. In this he'd turn and contort himself as much as he could to grab his falling lightsaber, reigniting it as his cybernetic limb's wrist would rotate just enough so that it could attack at an awkward, but proper angle in attempt to lop off the droid's hand if they didn't release Winslow in time.​
" That all you got shiny?! "
 
Clang went Winslow's metal-reinforced forehead against EG-9's face. The droid rocked back just enough from the impact for Winslow to wrench his prosthetic arm out of EG-9's grasp.

“Impressive headbutt for an organic!”

EG-9 then did something that was both quite simple and potentially devastating.

As Winslow grabbed his lightsaber with his freed hand, the droid magnetized his feet to the floor and spun his torso around like he had before. He rotated 180 degrees to his left—while still holding onto Winslow's right wrist painfully tight. Depending on the angle Winslow was attempting to slash at EG-9's arm from, being sharply tugged to the side might pull his organic arm in the way of the lightsaber blade, threatening to sever that appendage.

Either way, assuming Winslow didn't counteract somehow, EG-9's powerful spin likely yanked him off his feet. EG-9 would then immediately follow this up by spinning around to his right, in the opposite direction as the first spin. That would haul Winslow through the air, literally yanking him around in separate directions. This time, EG-9 aimed to slam Winsow into the floor head-first at the end of his spin.

The spin-spin-slam occurred in the span of about two and a half seconds.
 
When Winslow's plan of action didn't go...as planned the cyborg had a single immediate thought come to his tormented mind. Sacrifice, it was the only means to claim glory and power. So as the Acolyte found it impossible to sever the droid's hand at the wrist, at least for now, Winslow instead would aim for his own. Allowing himself to be lifted and spun without putting up any sort of resistance he'd proceed to use the momentum of the spin to flip elsewhere/away from his "Sparring partner".​
There was a single sound, it was a distorted hiss that would echo through the training room loud enough to silence Winslow landing crouched. Slowly rising with his back turned one might notice the smoke pluming from his wrist, his hand having been severed perfectly, but left to relax rather than gingerly cupping it against his torso for comfort. Doing this to express that he was as cold as any droid the cyborg would then slowly turn around to face the prototype opposite to him. While his remaining organic eye didn't give it away, his droid-based optics would take notice of his lopped off hand between himself and his target albeit this was involuntary data obtained purely due to the hand becoming a seperate entity within the room.​
" Perhaps you can learn something from this droid. "
Cracking his neck from side to side then Winslow would mirror this in a mechanical-variation as his cybernetic wrist began to rotate swiftly although it didn't crack it would wind somewhat audibly. In doing so his lightsaber would also hum while cutting through the air, adjusting the spin so he could continue to rotation Winslow would extend the length of his hilt, twirling the staff about then as effectively as he would with two hands, arguably. He had seemed so controlled, so relaxed all the while, but in reality the cybernetic Acolyte had been brooding, feeding off of the pain and anger rising in his belly.​
" Tell me, what do you know of the lightsaber forms?! "
Bursting forward Winslow would continue to saturate in the Dark Side, almost hissing out loud as he tried to focus The Force around the droid from afar. He wasn't trying to crush or electrocute his target however rather he was beginning to try and churn The Force around them, hoping to lift them up and off of their feet while twirling them about in a mini vortex. If this proved ineffective though Winslow's forward charge wouldn't pause in the least, instead he'd come in with an acrobatic flip meant to close the last bit of distance between the two. Bringing his blade down at an angle he'd aim to cleave the droid in half from shoulder to hip, once back on his feet however Winslow's cybernetic arm would adjust itself to deliver a simple, yet machine-powered swipe upward. It was an awkward, yet effective blend of Juyo and Djem So.​
 
Winslow and Azael sensed two emotions from the onlookers in the viewing box above. Shock that the former's hand had been severed, and childish glee at the same.

EG-9 took a moment to pause, look at the severed hand, look at Winslow. “I'd calculated there was only a small chance you would inadvertently sever that appendage. Perhaps you are clumsier than I anticipated?” It was hard to tell whether EG-9 was being genuinely innocent, or taunting Winslow.

When Winslow charged and created the whirlwind around EG-9, the droid found himself lifted into the air. He'd deactivated his magnetic feet after hurling the acolyte away, so he had nothing to anchor him to the floor. Given that EG-9 weighed about three hundred pounds, it did take some effort on Winslow's part to accomplish such a feat.

“I am proficient in all major lightsaber forms as taught by the Jedi Order and am familiar with several unorthodox styles,” EG-9 replied conversationally.

EG-9 opened a compartment on the palm of his left hand and ejected the lightsaber concealed within his forearm. Simultaneously, he pointed his right hand at the floor and shot the liquid cable launcher built into it. Once it fastened to the floor, he yanked hard on the cable and hauled himself to the floor. His mechanical strength allowed him to briefly overpower the telekinetic attack, allowing him to slam his feet to the floor and magnetize them to it once again.

In answer to Winslow's acrobatic slash, a blue blade buzzed to life in EG-9's left hand. He blocked the acolyte's strike, then quickly pressed forward. EG-9 demagnetized his left foot as he parried Winslow's following upward slash and riposted, allowing him to lunge forward and thrust at Winslow's chest. The maneuver was admittedly somewhat hampered by his right foot still magnetized to the floor, but otherwise it was nearly a picture-perfect Makashi maneuver.
 
The pain was beginning to get to him, slight beads of sweat trickling from his hairline down his forehead here and there. And yet it was nothing compared to the pain, the loss of his major injury resulting in his original cybernetics, including an entire replacement for his left arm, shoulder, etc. Still it was a burning unlike any other, the sensation filled him with a hot sensation as if he was flush which would turn his skin a bit pinker than usual.​
But, he fed on it, the pain, the hate,....the anger.​
When EG-9 proceeded to finally draw a proper weapon Winslow's first reaction of shock would swiftly be swept away as he was quick to remember he was sparring with a prototype Jedi Killer. However this didn't water down the excitement he was filled with when the blue light came to life in the droid's hands and a familiar hum began to echo his own yellow blade. Continuing to use his negative emotions to fuel the Dark Side inside of him to push himself further and further the Acolyte would find himself side stepping to his left before cartwheel flipping through the air and over the droid as he spun his lightsaber madly in attempt to rain down all sorts of thrusting blows toward his opponent below him.​
 
“I must commend your pain tolerance!” the Jedi Slayer said brightly. “It is most impressive for an organic sentient.”

EG-9 detached the cable from his right arm and demagnetized his feet so he could maneuver easier. When Winslow sprang over him, EG-9 crouched low, lower than a human would've been able to. He lifted his saber-hand above his head and rotated the appendage rapidly to batter away Winslow's thrusts that came closer to hitting him. From EG-9's right hand, he ejected his second lightsaber and held it at the ready, but did not ignite it yet.

Not intending to give Winslow a moment to rest, EG-9 pressed forward as soon as the acolyte landed. Blue blade a blur, he aimed a series of speedy strikes at Winslow's head and shoulder area while rapidly advancing. The strikes could be deadly if not parried, but they were meant to distract and keep Winslow off-balance more than go for the kill.

After a few of those blows, EG-9 attempted to bind and push away Winslow's lightsaber just for a moment as he kicked at Winslow's shin. Claws sprang from his toes as his metal foot lashed out, quick as a viper. Should the acolyte fail to avoid the kick, the claw-tipped foot would slice through his clothes and flesh, and the force of the kick might even crack bone.
 
Brooding...brooding....​
His rain of blows were deflected and the droid continued to fight, summoning an additional blade in a manner that left in moving akin to General Grievous, even if this was only something within Winslow's mind. The fact that the droid could not tire would turn the fight into a battle of one sided attrition. Remaining close to the droid he hoped to use his agility and acrobatic style to deflect or dodge attacks where needed to save himself some energy versus moving while always directly defending in blade to blade work.​
Then came their bind/lightsaber clash, one Winslow would lean into in hopes of pushing down on the droid while also preparing himself to protect his legs as they were typically what a swordsman would want to protect during a bind/clash. In doing this he'd narrowly avoid his leg being kicked as the additional space allowed him to slide his feet back a tad which would cause him to fall downward, though he held onto his lightsaber with his cybernetic pointer and thumb he'd extend his other three instinctively. Throwing a wave of The Force as a Force Push toward the droid he hoped to create even the smallest of spaces between the two rather than purely trying to hurl him aside. Proceeding to readjust his grip so all of his steely fingers were around his weapon Winslow would ensure his posture was firm.​
Having been holding his weapon in an ice pick grip he'd use it to stab into the floor as a means to prematurely end his fall or in this case slow it. For while a lightsaber was the ultimate cutting and stabbing tool it was not always an immediate process, some things required effort and or time to sever or pierce. In this case it proved to be the floor so while stabbed and even with Winslow's weight bearing down upon it the blade would not slide through the floor like butter, instead it acted like a true solid staff thanks to it and it's hilts extended length at the moment. Returning to a two finger grip on his blade, a strong grip thanks to it being a cybernetic appendage, he'd this time aim to Force Pull EG toward him while lift himself up with his own core/abdominal muscles as well as using his cybernetic arm and lightsaber to push himself up and away from the floor once more. Lifting and twirling his blade as he did rise up he'd aim to fling molten metal from the floor toward EG with a twirl of his blade before they got close enough for him to thrust at, except it was no simple stabbing motion. Rather at the last moment Winslow would activate the blade's dual-phase ability to add extra length as it aimed to pierce the droid's torso in the process. At this length his lightsaber would prove to be nearly ten feet in length total.​
It was at this point that Winslow had begun breathing heavily and was sweating much more visibly now.​
 
The Force push came as EG-9's leg was extended, making it easier for Winslow to shove him back. EG-9 stumbled a couple meters back, claws on both feet now extending to dig into the floor and halt his backward momentum. His second lightsaber flared to life, and he readied both in a Jar-kai stance.

Right when EG-9 took a step, Winslow telekinetically pulled him forward. EG-9 stumbled towards Winslow, feet digging into the floor to slow his movement. Guessing what the acolyte planned to do, EG-9 decided to try to turn Winslow's attack against him.

The liquid cable launcher from EG-9's left hand shot out at Winslow's face. At this range and its speed, the cable was likely to hit or at least graze him. Either way, it was distracting. Unfortunately for EG-9, what he hadn't taken into account was Winslow's dual-phase lightsaber. It nearly proved to be his defeat. His main saving grace there was the cable launcher distraction, which gave him half a second to react and hopefully knocked off Winslow's aim juuust enough.

The yellow blade pierced and burned a short line through the left part of EG-9's torso, where waist connected to chest under his left arm. His skeletal design was helpful in this case, since he otherwise would've suffered considerably more damage. The little bits of molten metal, or the few that hit him, hardly fazed the droid.

“Ah! A fine hit!” EG-9 crowed. He brought his right saber around to clash against Winslow's, pushing it out and away, while his left lightsaber shut off. He kicked off the floor, using that force and the telekinetic pull to propel himself even faster at the acolyte.

EG-9's blue lightsaber blade screamed as it dragged down the length of Winslow's yellow one in less than a second. Assuming all went well, EG-9 ignited his left lightsaber again while he used his right lightsaber to push up and out on Winslow's blade with his whole weight. He then delivered a quick cut with his left blade, a diagonal slice from lower right to upper left aimed at Winslow's prosthetic arm. Although the damage from Winslow's thrust somewhat affected his left arm's movement, it didn't take much force or speed to cut through a limb with a lightsaber.
 
Blow for blow the pair would continue to exchange attacks, countering each other here and there or outright dodging one another from time to time. Tilting his head just in time Winslow would narrowly avoid serious physical harm as EG's cable tool skimmed across the surface of the cybernetic plating across over half of his own face. In this he'd hiss loud enough to match the sound of the metal being scraped/scratched loudly.​
Clashing momentarily before pushing apart the EG would then either commend him or mock him before they sped back into another clash. However, at this point Winslow was fighting with a polearm lightsaber, so he didn't need to get in close to his opponent at all if he so chose, and so he was choosing to avoid presently. As such when EG attempted another bind/clash Winslow would stay afar, using his cybernetic wrist to rotate his weapon as a means to potentially disarm EG of the lightsaber in his right hand. It was a more fencing-esque move akin to Makashi rather than Winslow's Juyo or Djem So, but it was a move he had begun to try implementing outside of personal training. How would it fare against a live opponent, let alone the likes of a bonafide Jedi Killer?​
After all at this point it wasn't just the Separatists in the theater box above the room that were impressed, even in his agony Winslow had to admit it to....This new droid was extremely efficient.​
Relying solely on the versatility of his remaining cybernetic limb due to the loss of his right hand Winslow would for the most part pull it off, while using a weapon that was just a few centimeters over nine feet in length as if it were natural. Wielding it in part akin to a double-bladed variant, he'd also clearly blend in it's more obvious use as a pike or longspear. However in an instant Winslow would hurl his lightsaber at his opponent, but this was no Saber Throw, no this was him chucking his weapon at the droid as if it were a spear while adding power behind it with a Force Push. Yet, he wasn't aiming for the torso, head, no he was aiming for EG's left hip while then using his now free cybernetic-limb to open fire with his B2-based blaster.​
To add to this, whether his lightsaber had gored EG or not Winslow would once more attempt Force Whirlwind, this time hoping to pull both his weapon and the droid into the mix in attempt to batter the Jedi Killer with random unfocused strikes.​
But, this was taking a toll on the already draining Winslow, surely it wasn't an act he could keep up, that was if the attack had even proceeded accordingly.​
 
EG-9's grip on his right lightsaber was strong indeed, and he was able to adjust his position to match or exceed Winslow's leverage. That, and he could use his left arm to compensate for the attempted disarming if needed; even if it was weakened and slowed, that appendage was still useful in their duel.

While Winslow tried to keep some space between them, and indeed had an excellent reach weapon, EG-9's dual lightsabers and droid reflexes allowed him to keep pace with the acolyte. Always he strove to advance, attempting at points to drive Winslow against a wall or into a corner. Before he could make much headway in that regard, Winslow put some space between them and went to hurl his lightsaber.

EG-9 saw the movement, his brain processing it rapidly, faster than an organic could. Although he wasn't quite sure where Winslow was aiming, he knew it was coming an instant before it did. He shifted, legs poised, and once again sprang through the air at Winslow. Forearms raised to protect his head and shoulders, his body went almost parallel to the floor.

The thrown lightsaber's blade hit the top of his rounded head. It crackled and slid off to the left, leaving a black scorch mark behind—but no other damage. A similar thing happened when the blade ground against his left forearm and wrist. However, its angle and the force Winslow had put behind it allowed the lightsaber to keep traveling on, slipping past EG-9's phrik body parts and penetrating his shoulder. The blade sheared through that part of his body, severing his left arm.

Good thing EG-9 couldn't feel pain.

EG-9's sudden loss of limb threw him off-balance, which made his subsequent landing and attempted somersault a bit awkward. Internal gyros shifted and his remaining limbs worked to compensate. After his tumble, one clawed foot dug into the floor and magnetized while he pushed off on his remaining arm. EG-9 popped up mere feet in front of Winslow, left side sparking, and stepped forward with his right foot as he swung his right lightsaber at the acolyte's own mechanical arm.