Ila Baranova vs. Darth Damara | Judgement Time

[Veritas et Lux]

Ila had arrived at the scene clad in her normal robes and armor. She carried with her both short red electrum lightsabers, her raligun pistolette, and of course, her determination.
As she walked her boots left imprinted molds within the mud of the ruins.

Rain had soaked the place, and the ground had become nothing but mud and weeds. All around her were half-walls, eroded by time and weather. These ruins located on Yavin IV were dislocated from the current sith temple that lay now on the planet, but certainly not forgotten.

Stone structures littered the outside open area, all drenched. The roofing that once belonged was absent without a trace; many of the walls were almost completely gone too, some higher than others.

Within an open area, what was most likely a foyer of sorts at some time, Ila stood. The area stretched a good estimation of about twenty-five feet in radius, with Ila standing off canter. Behind her was a corridor of half-walls, eroded by time but still sturdy enough to hold back an explosion.

Ila would wait for Damara to come walking in from the other side of the area so that she could greet her honorably before battle.

 

[Kiro]

Baranova needed not wait long under the torrential rains of Yavin IV, the Sorceror's Moon. Darth Damara arrived shortly by means of a Birikad-class Imperial Shuttle, which immediately took off and entered a hovering position near the temple after having disgorged it's lone passenger, it's cameras aimed down into the temple through the open hole in the roof, recording the duel for posterity. The woman whom had been given the title of High Arcanist walked into the ruined temple in her modified Imperial Navy uniform. Her eyebrows narrow into a frown at the sight of her most recent challenger.

"Oh, another whelp... joy." The Darth's voice dripped with sarcasm as she drew and activated her lightsaber, a scarlet blade springing into existance, which hisses and snaps with each drop of rain which comes into contact with the lenght of crimson plasma. "Do you genuinely think you can win this? I have faced several challengers. I destroyed a Darth. I mutilated another whelp like you. He is on display in my Temple, a burned, crippled, husk, but still alive."

The former Imperial Naval officer begins to move, slowly circling Baranova, and making sure her lightsaber is between them. "Is that why you came here? To become another casualty? Another trophy? That is all you will find here on my moon."

 

[Veritas et Lux]

Ila smiled beneath her mask as the girl before her spoke. She was a bit cocky it seemed, and even worse, a bad practitioner of Dun moch. Ila herself just laughed at the shit attempts to intimidate her.

Ila began circling the open area along with Damara, both of her short red lightsabers lit as well. She listened to the girl finish her monologue before letting out an exaggerated yawn.

"You realize how little intimidation factor you carry, don't you? You're just a bunch of talk and no backup.", she started.
"I have seized planets and brought the destruction of countless before us both. The last Lore master of the Jedi that was put on their throne was brought down by my hand, as well as 'noble prodigies' such as the late great Matsu Ike and Chora."

"You are no threat to me, simply because you have defeated some petty shit stains that inhabited our order."

Ile paused momentarily, continuing the slow dance with Damara. However, it would appear to Damara that with every step she took all of her energy would be focused towards her disorientation. Nausea was a bitch, but Malacia was no joke. Any energy that she could expend would be focused into her own sickening, nauseous, inebriated demise.

Suddenly, there was no longer just an Ila. There were five Ilas all circling the Darth, all running circles around her.
Doppelgangers were a bitch too- considering that they all carried heat and force signatures the like.

"You come to the Sorcerer's moon expecting to fight me?"
"I don't care who you are... Not all of the technology in the galaxy could avail you."

((all cursing or insults is ic dun moch btw. i don't harbor ill feelings towards you at all ooc n.n , tis' just how i write with Ila so you know.

also, just in case you didn't know ... Malacia

Malacia was a Force technique that was used to induce a powerful dizziness and nausea in enemies by turning their equilibrium against them. It was completely incapacitating, but caused no damage to the body, and so was not considered a dark side power. Even so, the effects of the power were sometimes so severe that it could cause a target to vomit. The principal quality of the technique was that a Force-user utilizes it by transforming a target's energy rather than using their own.[1]

))

 

[Kiro]

The High Arcanist could feel the effects of Malachaia start to creep into her body and upset her sense of equilibrium. It was an effective and subtle tactic to open with, and could cripple some opponents quite seriously. Damara was however a former TIE-pilot, and had spent hundreds of hours behind the controls of various TIE varians, including the new Dominator. Nausea, dissorientation, and a disturbed equilibrium was common-place for her, and something she'd trained extensively to overcome.

The illusions however was something her Naval training hadn't trained her to overcome. But while they were perfect visual clones, and even had their own force presence identical to Baranova, there was one thing that they didn't possess. Mass. The rain which fell down through the open roof wouldn't splash against their illusionary bodies, nor hiss, crackle, and snap as they were vapourized by the lightsabers, due to the simple fact that the lightsabers were illusions. They possessed no mass, and no heat.

"I need no technology to defeat you." And with those words, Darth Damara raised her hand to the only version of her challenger that the rain did actually strike, and possessed lightsabers that actually steamed. From the tips of her fingers red-streaked lightning crackled and sparked, turning raindrops into steam on their own as it raced to strike it's intended target.

 

[Veritas et Lux]

(( sorry for the wait. doctors and work and rent and school and stuffs xD ))

Ila knew that the doppelgangers weren't going to fool any darth, but she knew that it would distract any simpleton... And so it did.
As the darth's fingertips ignited a crackle of electricity through the air, Ila dropped all of her doppelgangers simultaneously.
Her already ignited right lightsabers took on the energy from the force attack while her left hand thrust forward to send a force push towards Damara. It would most likely force her to cease channeling of her lightning attack one way or another.

"Ha! Without your toys you are no match for me, girly.", Ila said while relinquishing the wave of force energy towards Damara.

If the girl were to be pushed down, then any movements made to reestablish her stance would worsen the effects of Malacia. Certainly this wouldn't be too much of a problem for the Darth, but despite that it would force her to place more of her focus into resisting the effects of Malacia.

 

[Kiro]

The blast of Telekinetic energy was easily strong enough to knock Damara off her feet, and skid across the ancient moss grown tiles of the ancient, decrepid, abandoned Massassi temple that Baranova had chosen as her battleground. If not for the debilitating effects of Malacia, the Darth might well have been able to resist it, and perhaps even land on her feet. And as the contender correctly guessed, the Darth could easily get back up on her feet, but every move she made would obviously worsen the effects of Malacia. Again, that was no great problem. Compared to her first space flight in a TIE-fighter, this was a breeze. She had gravity, scenery, and tactile information to tell her exactly what was up, down, left and right. In space, you had none of these things. And yet, the woman born of the proud and noble house of Hastor, simply lay there on the ground.

She didn't hear the contender's pitiful attempt at Dun Möch. Her mind was drifting. The constant challenges she had faced since she had destroyed Darth Abraxas, in a hope to improve the Sith Order, what supposed to be the iron fist and the glorious spearhead of the Imperial military might. But all her hopes had been in vain. The Sith were riddled with superstition, ancient customs and traditions that served no purpose, except to weaken the Imperium, and prevent any form of order and progress. Even the High Commandant, whom prided himself on being like the common soldier, was lost to these traditions and practices. Even he dabbled in the so called "Sith Sorcery". And he had given her the title of High Arcanist, and sent her to Yavin, the Sorceror's moon, when she had hoped to root out that exact behaviour. And it was dawning on the woman whom had been born Nika Hastor, and later renamed Darth Damara, that her goal was a lost cause. She had failed even before she had begun.

And if there was one thing that drove Damara wild with anger, it was failure. And as that rage surged through her, feeding on itself, drawing upon every fear, every little failure, every slight, even the fact that the Malacia was affecting her, it reached critical mass. The Darth threw her head back and let out a mighty scream, which served as a source for the pure eruption of Dark Side energy that blasted out, cracking the stone slabs which served as tiles and the floor beneath their feet. The ancient temple groaned as the integrity of it's stony structure had been compromised by the massive blast of dark Force energy, which rippled through the Force.

In her enraged state, Damara reached out with the Force, and grasped the walls of and a couple of crumbling pillars and several piles of loose rocks and bricks with her Telekinetic abilities. These were then thrown, from several different directions, at Ila Baranova, the latest challenger, whom soon would become the latest victim of Darth Damara.

 

[Veritas et Lux]

Ila smirked knowing that the Darth still didn't understand what she was up against. It made her feel all giddy inside knowing that killing Damara would be the equivalent of harming an innocent little insect. This was all that she was; this was all that she could be. This was the so called 'Darth Damara', lying on the ground. Even though Ila saw her as far less than a darth, she knew that the girl wasn't going to simply lay there. Damara would have to do something, and Ila would use solemn judgment to keep from being tripped up by whatever the girl had planned. Keeping her distance, she didn't advance on Damara, but instead flipped the switch on the side of her railgun with her left hand before deactivating her left lightsaber and clipping it on her belt. Ila knew she'd have to take these moments to brace for whatever Damara might have up her sleeve.

"Come on.", she said. "I know that's not all the fight you have in you. You may be weak, but you're not that pathetic.", she finished, waiting for Damara to get back on her feet.

Then it happened. The force scream. It was less effective than it probably should have been, and Ila knew that the malacia would have her slowly showing symptoms. What did hit home however, was the torrential wave of energy Damara expended.

Ila's eyes squinted with anger as the rubble was sent her way, and knowing only that of instinct, she expended the energy necessary to repulse the incoming of debris and cancel out the wave of ruined stones as they were thrown to her.

Now, Ila drew her pistolette, which was now charged. Even though Ila was very powerful, such as Damara was, she knew that with this continuous onslaught of force retortion that one of them would burn out soon. She knew that she'd have to at least be conservative if she wanted to outlast Damara. Therefore she decided to mix it up a little, with her railgun.

Aiming down the sites, Ila shot three rounds from the railgun. The sounds of electrical discharge coming one after another, with a one second pause between each shot. She would return her focus to giving Damara a hell of a ride with malacia as she stood there popping off shots as well.

If the shots would land then they would send holes straight through Damara. If the shots were deflected by her lightsaber, then the nature of the projectiles would certainly give Damara a test of endurance as far as her wrists went. Finally, if she decided to dodge them, then Ila would show no mercy by expending more of her focus to giving the girl the runs.

"C'mon, Damara. I'd expect more form you than this."

Spoiler: Riot Railgun

Riot6-Class Railgun

Classification: Gaussian Pistol
Manufacturer: Csapala'Rechina-Binet'Co

Magazine/Power Cell Capacity: Tibanna Cartridge (100 rounds), Sig Cartridge (100 rounds)

Rate of Fire: Semi-Automatic, or Two-Round Burst

Designer: Cspala'Rechina-binet'Co

Description:
The Riot Railgun is made for the supreme experienced handgun user in mind. It far exceeds the effeciency and effectiveness of a regular blaster pistol. Far exceeding heavy blaster pistols in projectile speed; accuracy; and mobility, the riot railgun gives the user the option of firing projectiles or typical blaster pistol ammunitions.
The pistol is also given a number of personalization options from scopes, flashlights, lasersights, grips, and because it is a gaussian pistol; power sources.
Muzzle flash is not smoke or explosive, but electric discharge.

 

[Kiro]

Trying to shoot a prone target from a distance was tricky at best, but considering Ila had the advantage of being able to move around with impunity, that small advantage would soon be moot. As such, Damara forced herself up on her feet, and fought down the urge to also throw up. The malacaia was becoming a problem. At the sound of the gun being fired, the Darth's lightsaber flicked out to divert the course of the first round, which took more energy than she expected, and upset her equlibrium further. She couldn't fight the bullets. Not like this. So instead, she dived to the side. The second round missed. The third, however, punched clean through the Darth's abdomen.

Skidding through the dirt and mud of the ruins, Damara managed to crawl behind a thick piece of ruined wall, likely a section from the temple's outer stonework, where she could finally inspect the damage. She could feel the blood gushing out. She knew that her spleen and liver were badly damaged, and that her lungs would quickly start filling with blood. And considering the climate of Yavin IV, the wound would be infected in minutes, unless it had already happened. But thankfully, the Sith Lord had the perfect tool to keep herself alive, for just a little longer. Deactivating her lightsaber, she presses the emitter of the iconic against her gushing wound, before re-igniting the blade and then disengaging it just as quickly. The weapon emerges on que, and pushes straight through the hole already made by Baranova's gun. In fact, it even widens it. But unlike a railgun bullet, a lightsaber cauterizes the wounds they make. While acustomed to pain, having a lightsaber burning your internal organs and your flesh was something on an entirely different scale. There was no way to resist screaming.

Trembling against the wall, the malacia affecting her body, and the pain and shock of having two major internal organs damaged and cauterized, it was no surprise that Damara could no longer keep from vomiting, soiling the already mud-soaked trousers and boots of her Imperial uniform. Once, loved that uniform. Once, it stood for everything in which she believed. Now... it was a mockery. Drawing heavily upon all of her rage, her pain, the fear of being humiliated before the High Commandant whom she knew must be watching, and an undeniable fact, Damara reached out into the Dark Side of the Force for one last time.

With the last of her remaining strenght, the woman whom had been born Nika Hastor and would die Darth Damara, siezed the shuttle which had brought her to her death. She could feel the pilots struggle against her telekinetic grip, but it would not avail them. No, her power was crushing the engine thrusters, and disabling the repulsor lift. If not for Damara's powers, it would have plummeted out of the sky and into the jungle below like a rock. Instead, the Darth used every last iota of her potential and strenght in the Force to propell and direct the heavy, falling, shuttle into the ruins, and aimed directly at the Force signiature of Ila Baranova. The the twenty-five meters long Birikad-class Imperial shuttle would be very hard to dodge, and even if it did not hit the Sith Master directly, the vessel's fuel tanks, weapons, and hyperdrive core would likely explode.

At least Damara would not die alone.

 

[Veritas et Lux]

Ila smirked as her shot created a hole straight through Damara's body. It seemed to her that the duel would be just as short as she'd expected it to be. It was sad, to be honest, that Damara hadn't actually done anything more than use her loud mouth and a small temper tantrum in the wake of Ila. It truly goes to show why Ila would take up her position as High Arcanist, and that the girl wasn't only unfit for her title but also deserving of Ila's punishment. Oh how she'd been punishing her, but still without content. Not yet; the sith master would only be content with Damara's last words.

As Ila began to walk forward to where Damara had bunkered down behind another wall, she felt Damara's energy from behind the wall spike up. She stopped, not instinctively but by her own cautiousness. The same solemn judgment that had kept Ila alive for a great deal longer than she supposed she should have been may now end up in her demise. With an upward turn of her head at the sounds of the above shuttle's bizarre malfunctions, Ila's eyes widened with yet another rush of adrenaline. The ship was going down. Coming down with force and direction and there was nothing that she could truly do to stop it.

She wouldn't let this happen though. She wasn't going to let Damara have the slightest probability of survival. And with that thought in her head, she did only what her instincts told her to. There was no time to speculate, to judge, to decide. There was only time for adrenaline as she'd deactivated her lightsaber and dropped all of her focus into both life and death.

Ila quickly rushed, lightsaber and pistol in hand as she'd not even spared the thought of emptying her hands, towards the wall in which Damara was taking refuge. Her speed was horrorshow, and most likely the fastest that she's ever achieved under the support of the force. With every single step, Ila could feel the ship coming down, looming over her as a terrible feeling in her gut. She believed herself to be dead already as she ran and force jumped up to catch the wall with her right foot before chaining that step as a force leap off of it and forwards. This leap would project her over Damara and over the next outside wall between her and what would be in her mind a useless attempt at escape... Or so she thought.

As the girl would come to find, the initial explosive shockwave from the ship hit her midair, projecting her forwards with intense speed towards the ground. But what happened next not even Ila could predict. The ground was not straight. In fact, it was a hill... A very steep hill lined with trees and bushes and rocks that she would have had to make her way through. However with the mud and the speed that Ila was travelling at, she would without a doubt continue sliding; she would be projected down the slope with excess force, sliding over rocks and through bushes, slamming through tree limbs and against tree-trunks until inertia would have it that she'd be stopped cold. And just whenever it was thought to be over, the nuclear blast from multiple concussion missiles would come raging over the ridge above. And while the initial shockwave would irradiate outwars over the ridge, dragging more than half of the ridge with it, Ila was not safe from the rolling thunder that would follow it. She would be carried along with the blast as far as it could take her. Live or die was no longer on her mind; what was left of her conscious self was completely focused on blocking out the physical pain of being propelled by a torrential nuclear blast.

 

[Dmitri]

Yavin IV is a world of wonder, mystery, and beauty. A place of power. The endless landscape was drowned by a sea of trees. Scattered throughout the green flood were ancient structures from pyramids to temples that struggled to remain afloat above the flow of nature, islands in arboretum ocean. They had been forged thousands of years ago by Dark Siders. Eventually they died out and millennia later the Rebel Alliance and the Jedi proclaimed this isolated refuge home. However, just like the typical scene in the operas of history, the Jedi were removed from the planet. It was now back in the hands of its genesis, apostles of the Dark Side. The temples, though weathered by time and neglect propagating a sad state, were now back to being used by hands they had been designed for. The Great Temple housed acolytes in the Bogan ways. The Grey Temple was used as a laboratory for alchemy experiments.

Once, a structure called the Dark God's Temple was once a well-respected institute to the Massassi. It was a place of worship to their ubiquitous deity that reigned over them, Naga Sadow. Since the natives' extinction, time felt jealous of the Sith conqueror's settlement. It conspired with Mother Nature to ruin the Dark God's Temple. Not much remained of its former glory. Now it was a wreck of walls. The grandiose doppelganger of Naga Sadow, its prided statue made from gold, was gone, stolen by the greed of pillagers and marauders. Rumors were that Darth Kayos years ago had been the culprit in the crime.

Now the Dark God's Temple was enriched with life again. Two lives, to be specific. Both sought to receive the same prestige that Naga Sadow had: mantle of the epithet called Sith Lord. The temple was a weigh, swaying back and forth to determine if current Darth Damara or the challenger Ila Baranova were qualified to carry the weight of Sith Lordship on their shoulder. Two individuals who had the potential to become High Arcanist. Only one would be able to grab that title through bloody struggle.

To say that there were two people in the area qualified for High Arcanist was a misjudgment. Orbiting them above in space aboard the Redemption was Geist Weiss. He was ignorant of the situation, but was heading planetside, in order to return to Grey Temple. His shuttle, a medical shuttle as to be able to care for the injured Vhalanestilliegan Crewellunstestry, was exiting the behemoth Star Destroyer when Vhalanestilliegan Crewellunstestry informed him of the duel below. His interest tickled, he ordered the pilot to fly near the area. He used a doppelganger to materialize at the outset of the temple, floating above like a balloon. There, he could see the two women striking each other with vengeance and spite, wrath and power.

Both women radiated power. In all likelihood, if there was another seat, both women could have served on the Dark Council together. Alas, fate was fickle today, and pitted them against each other, watching its soap opera of survival of the fittest. Near the end of the fight, it appeared as though Ila was winning. Eventually, Ila managed to strike a fatal blow to Darth Damara.

Darth Damara, once part of a force to be reckoned with. Now, Darth Damara, you're just part of the Force, Geist thought to himself.

Suddenly his vision went black, blinded by silver metal and unseeable wires. A couple seconds later sight was bestowed upon him, gifting him the revelation that a ship had just flow through his head, or more specifically his illusionary specter. The crippled ship was headed straight for the Dark God's Landing.

And so a weapon from the heavens strikes down the citadel of the Dark God, mused Geist. He then sobered himself. That ship was lightly to be armed. If it blew, the explosion would not be friendly. He did not know what radius its infernal carnage would inflate, but they needed to evacuate immediately. Allowing his senses to the doppelganger fade just as it dematerialized, Geist shouted a command to the pilot, "Get us out of here immediately!"

The pilot obliged, likely having seen the descending ship from his window. With full throttle, the shuttle flew out of harm's way. Seconds later, a radiance of fire and raw energy encompassed the sanctuary that had formerly been the Dark God's Temple. He had the pilot then circle around, to assess the damage. With the recording ship destroyed, they were the witnesses to the end of the duel, so a report would need to be filed. It was a shame, he would have liked one of the women to have survived. Now there would be void in the Dark Council and the fools and powerhouses would ferociously tear each other apart to climb the tropaion.

As he let his senses pet the carnage of the explosion, sensing the multitude of death that stank the area, a spark of life zapped his senses. Someone was alive! Ila Baranova was live. He immediately instructed the pilot to fly where he sensed the lifeform. He had barely noticed her in the first place. She was knocking on death's doorsteps and at any time Death could answer. The shuttle had barely even kissed the ground before Geist Weiss, followed by Vhalanestilliegan Crewellunstestry, disembarked and ran towards the sorry state that was Ila Baranova.

"Help me get her to the ship," he instructed his apprentice.

Geist and the Twi'lek used the Force to pick up her up and carry her aboard. The shuttle left right after that, heading back towards the Redemption. It had one of the better medical bays in the area; after all, it had only been mildly used by Darth Vereor yesterday when he returned to known space so all equipment would be free. The pilot called for a medical team to be ready for their arrival.

Geist Weiss had his own problems to contend with. Ila Baranova's life hung by a thread, ready to snap at any unprovoked insult. He had Vhalanestilliegan Crewellunstestry immediately apply Force Heal. It wouldn't be even close enough to fix the problems plaguing Ila's health, but it would buy them time. He assessed the situation while he applied a little Force Healing himself. Most of Ila's limbs were beyond recognition and likely beyond repair. However, he would deal with that later. Limbs were not a priority. The rest of her body was. Her heart was barely huffing a beat, so Geist used a miniature shock by a weakened Force Lightning to upstart her heart. He had learned the trick from his numerous Project Saligia trials. He wished he had more medical equipment aboard, but it was not that advanced as one would wish at a time like this. However, was could not be displeased. Fate had beckoned them with a medical transport, so not all was lost. The two Sith applied as much emergency first-aid as creativity could supply.

Finally, a thump hailed the arrival aboard the Redemption. With Ila Baranova on a stretcher, they stormed out of the shuttle and almost crashed into the waiting medical team. Geist Weiss commanded they take her to his laboratory. Ila was in urgent need of life support and his experimental suits he had been working on would fit the bill. As the laboratory was originally a medbay, it had necessary equipment to match their needs. Immediately upon arrival, they began work.

Geist threw a powersuit that was in pieces at Vhalanestilliegan. "Have them use that as the base. It should be able to suffice and keep her alive."

The Twi'lek eyed the armor. "This is meant for a man. The chest..."

"This isn't the time to argue. It will do. Besides, her breasts are gone anyways. This will fit. If she wants to add a bazooka boob later on, be my guest, but her life takes priority over what breast size will her armor simulate."

The Twi'lek shut his mouth and went back to work. Geist grabbed a Blood Purifier 2000 and a PrimeCore-X4, handing it to a doctor who with Geist's help transplanted them into Ila's chest, using them to replace the unrepairable organs inside the woman. The mechanical machinations would now become her organs, along with assisting some of her other organs that were damaged too. As they were sealing her up, Geist noticed that a stone was wedged into Ila's skull.

Brain damage, near-organ failure, limbs beyond salvation... The list went on. Grabbing a scapel, he continued his work. He would continue on, for the next few hours. By the time he and his colleagues were finished, the body that had been Ila Baranova was barely recognizable as the woman who had, hours ago, slain Darth Damara.

As Geist moved to take off his legs, he felt himself stumble a little bit. His eyes scanned at the clock and realized he had been working for almost ten hours straight. He was surprised that Vhalanestilliegan hadn't taken a break, suspecting the Twi'lek's medical equipment was overheating and whining about now. Sitting down, he told a nurse to attend to his apprentice before himself.

Great, thought Geist has unconsciousness began to charm him to sleep. First I bring Arcturus Wolfgang the news that a Sith Lord is back. Now I get to report one of his other Sith Lords is dead and her champion was likely to be in a condition to resume Darth Damara's duties. He did not have to worry about how he would present this news as fatigue finally claimed him with a weapon called rest.