Ask Nar Shaddaa Lock and Key

[Amon Aldinari]

Amon smirked the man's words as they walked together towards the door, "Wouldn't dare want to scratch the armor would we." Hopefully, Darth Kravos was ecstatic wherever he was about how well Spice tried to maintain his piece of armor. But his attitude changed when they reached the door and he braced himself beside the other for when it opened. When it reached one and the door was flung open, he stretched his arms forward as a blast of the force was unleashed and directly into the room with a scream.

The cultists and workers inside were picked up easily as they slammed into the opposite wall and providing the opening for Spice to do his work. They got up and charged at him without concern, most of them cut in half but some were able to simply jump onto him and try to bring him down with their weight. Amon wouldn't let take place for long as he would step into the room shortly and wield the force to rip them off and hold them in the air, giving an easy target for Spice to kill without him interfering. After the room had been mowed of opposition, the wailing continued and grew louder.

Amon covered one of his ears as he inspected the eye, finding the pupil of it slightly indented and a different color of red. He walked past Spice as he held out his other arm, "Knife!" It would be smoothly caught and spun in the right direction as he approached the drawing. The center of the eye would be dug out, more likely chipped out and nestled in the hole was a sort of ornate red gem that was practically pulsing, the source of where the Darkside had been leaking from.

He wedged the knife into the wall and between the artifact and pushed hard against it before the pressure caused it to pop out of the wall. The wailing stopped and the fresh blood that cried dried away as Amon caught it with his free hand. It had some heft to it and the Sith designs of it made it unmistakable. Amon turned towards Spice and offered the dagger back handle first, "This is it." He lifted his other hand to show the artifact to him, able to feel something almost swirling inside it.

 

[Emryc Thorne]

As the wailing grew shriller, Emryc had a tougher time. His ears were highly sensitive, and the incredibly high pitched screeching was throwing his focus. He powered through it, channeling his pain into his strength. The Force coiled around one of the faceless moments before he threw it harshly against a wall with a sick crunch. He didn’t let it linger there, sending the body sailing directly into another one of the cultists.

The two men fought almost back to back, saber and blades whirling and cutting as they spun and fought to clear up the room. At some point Emryc pivoted around and had his saber coming in, but he saw the stupid x Amon carved on his chest, “Ayy!” He called out in amusement, sending his saber instead over his shoulder and directly into the face of a cultist.

Emryc stepped away to kill off another cultist when the other Sith called out to him. He looked and tossed the blade through the air, using his bare hand to grab a cultist and slam its face repeatedly into a nearby wall.

As soon as the artifact was pried off, the wailing stopped and any remaining cultists dropped. The ones that were still moving on the ground stopped doing so. There was nothing but silence then.

Emryc’s chest was heaving from the exhaustion. The two men were completely covered in blood and viscera. Emryc pushed some entrails off his shoulder, listening to the sick squelch as they landed at his feet.

“Shouldn’t have trashed your bike,” He grumbled, “That’s the one we should be riding back on,” Emryc glanced down at how disgusting he was right now.

 

[Amon Aldinari]

The two of them worked well together. The cultists weren't trained fighters and were annoying to fight but they were cut down with ease between the two. Spice was caught in the moment and thankfully noticed the X on Amon's chest before entertaining the thought of impaling him. It did turn out to have its use in the end and would give a nod during the moment. He had struck out efficiently with his saber the moment a faceless came too close but he let the other Sith do a majority of the work as he would just craft opportunities for them.

They were both quite a sight to behold at the end of it and something regurgitated straight from out of hell. Amon gave up the use of cleaning his clothes and instead would just wipe his face so that he could actually see before flicking his hand. Spice fared no better as organs covered him but he at least had his precious armor to keep him clean underneath. At the comment that was made about his ride there, Amon shrugged, "That machine was going to the death of me. Probably their plan so they didn't have to follow through on my side of the bargain." The speeder had been shitty enough that it could actually be true.

Amon's gaze went to the gem in his palm, inspecting for a few brief seconds before just slipping it into his coat. It had been the cause for a lot of stress and horror lately for them and he would happily be ready to be rid of it. "Let's finally get out of this place." He glanced toward the symbol on the wall, half expecting the wailing to begin once more but thankfully nothing happened. He stepped over the bodies and left the room as he navigated the way out, the hallways much less confusing as they returned to their normal clean state and didn't shut on their own.

When the exit opened, Amon stepped out and took a deep inhale, enjoying the dirty air that filled his nose. It was much more appealing than that of coppery blood as it meant they were out of the mind-trip and in open space. He walked over to where Spice's fancy bike was and sat down on the curb beside it with a groan. A hand ran through his jet black hair before he cast his gaze to the other man, "You got a smoke on you?"

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc was happy to finally exit the building. However, he couldn’t exactly take off his helmet and feel the fresh air on his face. He kept wiping the blood and guts off, grimacing beneath the helmet as he walked out. Emryc glanced over to see what the other Sith did with the artifact. He had to be wary of the man trying to nab it entirely for himself, though he didn’t have anything to gain by screwing Emryc over.

He watched as the man sat down on the curb. He was about to remind the man that they had a job to finish when he asked for a cigarra. Silence hung for a moment as the blank helmet simply stared vacantly. After a few seconds, Emryc reached and drew out a pack of cigarra, along with a lighter, tossing both to the man. He couldn’t take his helmet off, so he simply continued to clean himself off.

“I’m known among the Sith as Darth Raze,” He said after a while. Amon would recognize him as a Sith Lord then and realize that he was the same as Spicelord within the Syndicates. Emryc didn’t ask for Amon’s name as was often the case, but it was an opportunity for him to share it.

He waited for the man, reaching to pull out his datapad. Emryc glanced down as a video began to play on the datapad. An announcer was rattling off the replay of a Huttball game he had missed due to being on the mission. Emryc watched the replay intently, catching up on the latest plays and scores.

 

[Amon Aldinari]

After it the artifact was in his pocket, he had no other intention with it besides that. His concern was with his record and the slicers, nabbing the item would have negated all of that. Spice stared at him blankly for a moment and Amon just stared back up at him, waiting for a yes or for a no about the cigarra before finally one was offered to him. He gave a tilt of his head toward the man's direction after he caught the lighter and cig, his soaked gloves hands taking a moment to align them correctly.

He ignited it and took a long drag, the buzz of nicotine creeping over his entire body and pushing away any other sensation that he felt. It was a break he didn't know he needed and he took another healthy drag to chase the dragon. Spice spoke up and finally introduced himself and his true position among the Order. Amon brought his grey gaze over to him and he slowly inspected the man up and down. "I'll be damned Spice. The uptightness makes sense." The way he walked and spoke, the pieces fell together easily to put together after the revelation but Spice was too familiar on his tongue to be changed.

Amon would have normally spoken with more professionalism but after the whole ordeal they went through, it wasn't something he could easily call on, especially while he enjoyed the cigarra. Spice didn't ask for a name but he hadn't either so he spoke up, "I'm known as Amon, mainly by the gutters of my home." It was the truth about his name and his situation.

He was nearly finished with the cigarra but when he heard the unmistakable announcer of Huttball, Amon's eyes snapped to the PDA that Spice held. He stood up from the curb, the indication that he was nearly finished even though he continued to smoke up from it. "How did Nenzar Ja, the Duros do? Apparently, he has quite a vicious elbow and I just picked him up recently." He had missed the game as well and he didn't know how his players performed yet. He couldn't really tell what Spice's involvement in the sport was, if he just cared about overall scores or not, but Amon had always been into the sport. It first started out as gambling but he quickly pulled out of that when he realized how fast his credits went and he switched to fantasy.

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc scowled as Amon, as he was called, remarked on him being uptight. He had Force choked people for less. Before he decided on a form of punishment, the man blurted out about his fantasy Huttball pickup. Emryc glanced up from the datapad, silently staring for a moment.

“He’s up three takedowns and one decapitation,” He said after a moment. Emryc stepped over and sat down on the curb next to Amon, letting the other Sith watch the replay, “I got Largo on the offense and dude is just crushing it. Check this shit out,” The replay showed a massive Feeorin lumbering in and punching the daylights out of a Rodian for a single swing knockout to clear the way for a score, “Boom!”

“I follow the Rancors, but they’re having a weak ass season,” Emryc sighed, shaking his head in dismay, “Top in West Conference for now, but we won’t make it to the Galaxy Cup for sure. Tatooine Krayts are kriffing everyone. As usual.”

 

[Amon Aldinari]

Amon's eyes widened when Spice informed him that his player was up three takedowns and had a decapitation to top it off. "Goddamn, he won me my week." It had been a risky pick on his part as the matchup had been a little bad for the player but he was a surprise hit that was paying off. He had stood up but once Huttball had been brought up, Spice came over and sat down where he had been seated before and he had no problem joining him back down there. His overall record had improved to 4-1 and it put him in a positive despite what had transpired. He had grown up to be quite a fan and fantasy was a topic he could reliably speak on.

Spice brought up Largo and Amon clicked his tongue in response, "You picked a good one. I tried to sneak him into the second round but that didn't work out for me. He's consistent in his points, winning or losing." His words were proven as the replay highlighted him absolutely demolishing a player to get in for a score. Favorite teams were brought up and he couldn't help but shake his head when the Rancors were brought up, "You guys always have a great season, to begin with and then read the holonews too much and crash and burn in the playoffs."

"Tatooine Krayts always have a nose for talent somehow. But keep an eye out for the Ylesia Reek's, they have always been slept on but their defense is one of the highest-scoring there is. Slyback, the Trandoshan is ready to gun for the record of steals and decapitations." It was Amon's personal favorite, always having been a fan of their color combination of uniforms when he was a kid. The road had been long and hard for that team but the trades they made and picks were starting to cash out for them. "Eastern conference could be their's to seize."

As Amon spoke with Spice, he noticed the blood and pieces of faceless that clung to the man's armor. It reminded him of what they been through and he felt the weight in his pocket then. He gave a nod to the direction they came from, "We should go collect our reward. I want to check on my whole team. Nenzar definitely earned a starter spot."

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc couldn’t help but grin beneath the helmet when Amon rattled off his Huttball knowledge, especially when he mentioned Slyback. It wasn’t often that he came across others within the Sith that followed the sport or played fantasy, “Yeah I’ve been eying Slyback. He’s going to be leading to some upsets for sure,” He watched a few more of the replays until Amon mentioned heading back.

He rose to stand, wiping more of the blood and guts off with a grimace. He wasn’t thrilled to get any of it on the speeder bike, and he would have left Amon behind if not for the Huttball dialogue. He walked over and sat down, moving up closer to the handles since the bike was intended for one person. It left just enough room for Amon behind him.

“Hold on, but don’t give me the heimlich,” Emryc said flatly, recalling the last time he had a passenger that gripped him a bit too tightly because of his driving style. It also didn’t help that they both were disgusting and smelled awful. He would wait for Amon to hop on before revving up the engines.

The bike rode like a dream, and it felt as if they were skidding across ice without any friction. Emryc swerved in and out of traffic, his heightened senses coming in handy for quick maneuvers. It wasn’t a pleasant experience for the passenger, but it was exhilarating for him.

They would make it back in no time and he parked the speeder near the rendezvous point. Emryc got off and turned to look at Amon, “Let’s do a league, man,” He said as he pulled up his datapad, “By the way, my team’s Baby Got Slyback,” Emryc revealed while grinning beneath the helmet.

 

[Amon Aldinari]

They finished their delve into fantasy football, a topic that Amon and probably Spice could talk about for hours. But with an artifact in his pocket that made faceless worship it, there was an internal timer in the back of his head reminding him to get it off his person. He dusted himself off as well while Spice made his way to the back and scooted to give them both some room. He made his way over and swung a leg around so that he was seated with what he was given. A comment was made not to hold on tight and all he could do was peer at the still blood-soaked armor and bits of flesh still there, "I don't believe you'll have to worry about that."

After a few minutes of riding with Spice, he understood why the comment was made. They jerked in between speeders, the man seeming to be able to predict when to cut off someone or narrowly avoid a collision. Amon squeezed with all his strength with his legs against the bike, trying to stay upright and not crush his driver's ribs. After they escaped from most of the traffic finally, he had wondered if the ride with his piece of junk speeder would have been better or not as he swore his legs had nearly skimmed a few vehicles.

Amon was the first to get off and was happy to have his boots touch solid ground. Spice invited him to a league once he got off and he couldn't help the grin that came to his lips. "That's music to my ears." He was quite a researcher in fantasy and the more players that joined, the bigger the opportunity for credits. When his team name was shared, he couldn't help but have a smirk come to him with a light chuckle accompanying it, "A tasteful name. You'll fit right in with the league."

He quickly searched his profile in the app and added himself to Spice's friend list. "This is my team." Amon didn't say the name and instead just handed the PDA back to him. Substituting a name there, it was just the emoji of the championship cup even with it only being week two of the season. It was clear he was confident in his fantasy abilities. He offered Spice a wink before nodding to the PDA, "The league's created. I'll get a few of my buds to join and we'll draft in a couple of days." With it only being week two, it wouldn't too much of a tell who's going to have a great season besides the regular stars. Amon then gestured with his head and hand toward the door before walking toward it, "Let's go get our payment."