KotOR I: Orin Dakall

She dug in his pack to find a change of clothes, coming across a much nicer bar of soap while she did and feeling somewhat embarrassed. Still, he was the Republic’s top pilot, and she... well, she was a smuggler wasn’t she? She should be making more than him, easily.



So why did she live so monastically? Why the cheap soap and worn underwear and the feeling like with all the money she’d made, it’d never really been enough to live well? Never really thought of myself as a miser before, she thought. Guess I am.



She pulled out the spare set of clothes at the bottom of Carth’s pack and tossed it at the curtain, then pulled over her own pack and rummaged for some food. Had they really gone all of yesterday without eating? Her system must’ve gotten used to alarms telling her when to go to the mess; when to be hungry.



“I’m thinking,” she yelled, loud enough for Carth to hear over the water, “that once our clothes are dry, we spend some of the Rescue-Bastila funds on some real food. All I have is powder and stale tack.”



The water turned off, and Carth’s head appeared at the gap in the curtain as he grabbed his clothes. “Sounds good to me.”



He came out a moment later, fastening his pants and pulling on an old undershirt. They stared at each other for a moment before Carth shook his head, loose water flying from his hair. “So, what’s today’s plan?”



“Same as yesterday’s,” Orin said, a little disheartened. “Find Bastila, the wonder-girl.”



“Well, yeah,” he said, disappearing and reappearing with his wet clothes, flinging them up next to hers. “But, how about specifics?” He flopped down on the bed, watching her reorganize the contents of her rucksack. “We have to help out Dia before someone gets to her. And there’s the ghoul thing for Zelka. And you...” He hesitated. “There’s that Matrik guy.”



She studied a fraying edge on her pack minutely, considering. “We should focus on getting to the Undercity,” she said finally. “We have to find out what happened to Bastila’s escape pod. Find out if she’s even alive.” She looked up at Carth. “Don’t you think?”



He seemed to mull this over for a bit, then stood, heading for the door. “You can’t go out like that, but at least I can go get us some food.” He broke open the lock with the butt of his blaster, and checked that he had some credits. “I’ll be back in a bit.”



“Hey.”



“Hm?”



“Uh, whatever happened last night, I’m sorry. And... whatever you did, thank you.”



Carth looked at her for a moment, then down. “Don’t make a habit of it.” And he was gone.



Orin rubbed her dampish hair, making it stand up in spikes. “That was abrupt. And pride-crippling. Bet he has that effect on everyone.” She looked around. Not much to do, other than watch her clothes dry.



Twenty minutes later, she stole a look into the hallway, her stomach loudly protesting its state of emptiness. Someone was waiting for her.



“May I come in?” Matrik asked, the now-fully-repaired droid hovering next to him. He looked as if he fully expected her to shoot him on sight. She was considering doing so when he said, “You’re with the Republic now?” in surprise, staring at her uniform. With a snarl, she hauled him inside and shut the door before someone else saw.



“Think about telling anyone and I’ll kill you.”



Matrik laughed, sitting down. “Who would I tell? I have a sizeable price on my head. I just didn’t think you were the Republic type.”



“Well,” she said icily, giving him a wide berth, “you never put much effort into getting to know me.”



The humor drained from his face. “I’d be insane to ask you to forgive me. What we did was worse than unforgivable.” He met her gaze, holding it. “But I swear, it was the last contract I did, and I took as many of the others down with me as I could. They’re all in prison, except two Davik got off.”



“I killed them yesterday,” she said absently.



“Good.”



“I see we have company,” Carth said cheerfully, as he entered, the abandoned droid bobbing in after him. He tossed a bag on a chair and pulled it within equidistance of all three. “Not fancy, but it’ll do the trick.” He pulled a hard roll and a small waxed cheese from the bag and dug in, nodding for Matrik to do the same.



“What’s your plan?” Orin asked as Matrik took out a roll for himself and passed her the bag.



“Plan?”



“You expect me to believe you’re going to ‘make your stand’ without a plan?”



“Oh, that plan. As long as I’m holed up in here, I can’t pull it off... but I was going to fake my death.”



“Quite the courageous stand,” she said, unimpressed.



“Some of us don’t have the same capacity for bravery as others,” he said. “Mine ran out the moment I’d finished testifying. Anyway, the trick is getting Davik to buy it when there’s no body found at the scene. If it looks like I--”



“Permacrete detonator,” she said, peeling a bit of wax rind from her cheese.



“Yes,” he said, looking vaguely irritated at being interrupted. “But I can’t get a hold of one in Lower City.”



“That certainly is a predicament,” Orin said, checking her armor and disappearing behind the curtain to change.



When she came out, Matrik was gone.



“What’s with the two of you?” Carth asked, finishing his crumbs. “You walked off and he just about bolted for the door.”



“Maybe he thought I decided to collect his bounty,” she said in a flat, not-up-for-discussion tone.



“Fine, don’t tell me.” He pulled off his pants and shirt, and grabbed his dried armor. “There’s a cantina not far from here with plenty of disreputable types. Might be able to find someone who can get us into the Undercity. I am not wearing that trooper uniform again.” He glanced at her as he straightened his shirt. “It chafed.”



Orin hid a laugh in an unconvincing cough. “If it comes to it, I’ll wear it, okay?” Carth looked far more pleased with that idea.



“You’d look better in black anyway.”



They entered Javyar’s Cantina in time to see three Black Vulkars killed for speaking to a bounty hunter they called ‘Calo Nord’.



“You know him?” Orin asked Carth quietly as he passed.



“Nope,” he whispered back. “And I’m not keen to, if that’s what to expect.” They shrugged at each other as Nord left the cantina, then moved on to the bounty office, looking for Holdan. Instead, they met Zax, a slightly smaller Hutt than Ajuur, though no less... Hutt-like.