KotOR I: Orin Dakall

“There’s an apartment complex,” he said, trying to perk her up. “Bet there’s something worth stealing.”



And there was. Several things, actually. Orin got a blaster rifle to replace her pistol off a Vulkar. Carth replaced his off-hand pistol with a heavy blaster, as well as picked up a scope for his custom pistol off Selvin, the marked assassin whom they found hiding out there. And then there was the lockbox of some kid called Elam.



Carth was changing into the set of Republic Mod armor they’d got from Elam’s lockbox while Orin scoped out the rest of the way to the Undercity elevator. It was nearing midday and they were not making the progress she wanted.



As she rounded the final bend to the elevator, she nearly collided with a group of Black Vulkars. They grabbed for their weapons and Orin gave a terrified shriek, pointing to the Sith guard controlling the turrets that flanked the elevator. The Vulkars turned in alarm, and Orin sprinted back toward the apartments, the grenade she'd dropped at the Vulkars feet detonating and throwing her onto the floor. She gasped for air, most of the hallway's oxygen having been used up in the explosion.



Forcing herself to her feet, she jogged back to Carth, panting and putting her hands on her knees as she stopped.



“All clear. Only thing between us and the elevator is the guard." She sucked in a lungful of air. "Now we see if those papers Gadon gave us are any good.”



She looked up and nearly choked on the breath caught in her throat. Carth was examining himself as best he could without a mirror.



“Not really my color,” he said, in mock-vanity, “But stronger than the old stuff.”



“The yellow’s no good at all,” she said, still a bit breathless, “but the red... suits you.”



“There’s red?” he asked, looking for it.



“Mm. The collar.”



“Huh. Well, moving on then?”



They got through security fine. The outcast beggars who greeted them at the bottom were far harder to get past. Finally they gave them five credits and were left alone, until a woman ran up, halting them once more in their progress.



“I’m sorry about that... those two beggars give everyone in the village a bad name! We aren’t all like that, you know. Most of us are good people.”



Orin was quite sure she wouldn’t have liked her even if they hadn’t been in a hurry. For one, it was a little too convenient that she showed up as soon as the credits had changed hands. For another, she insinuated that the beggars were bad people. While it might not be an ideal financial situation, and while there may be work they could’ve been doing but weren’t, Orin didn’t see how begging itself made someone bad.



“I’m sure you are, miss,” Carth said, responding to her apology. “It’s just too bad your little welcoming committee is there to give people a bad first impression.” Orin smiled. She could hear in his tone that he suspected the girl was in on the beggars’ scam too.



“What do you want?” Orin asked. She could no longer see the sun, and the darkness was making her paranoid about how late it was getting coupled with how much they had left to do.



“My name is Shaleena. You’re from the upworld, aren’t you? I’ve... I’ve never seen it. I was born here in the Undercity. Is it as nice as they say up there?”



It’s not nice anywhere on this planet. “We don’t have time for this.”



They pushed past her as she apologized, stopping by an open fire to warm the leftover bread and cheese from breakfast. Orin sliced her roll in half, laying wedges of cheese in the middle and attempting to toast the sandwich of sorts. The outside ended up a bit burnt while some of the cheese in the middle hadn’t melted, but she sat down and dug into it anyway. Carth had already wolfed his roll, and looked at her concoction with hungry interest.



“I want to discuss something with you,” Orin said slowly.



“You do?” he said, looking up from his crumbs. He stretched out on the ground, putting his hands behind his head. “Fair enough. What do you want to discuss?”



She considered dropping it, positive this was going to end with them fighting again, but he was just too erratic. He’d be at her side, working with her; then he’d go quiet and just watch her. And she was still resentful about the things he’d said last night in the hallway. “...I want to talk about these issues you have with me.”



He sighed and stared at the Undercity’s version of sky. “I knew you wouldn’t understand where I was coming from... Let me try to explain.” He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow to look at her. “You’re probably one of the most skilled women I’ve ever met.”



“Women?” She raised an eyebrow.



“Persons,” he corrected quickly. “Human or otherwise. Definitely more skilled than most of the men I can think of. You’ve saved my butt more than once and I’m lucky you’re here to help me, no question.”



Her face began to feel warm and she quickly took a bite of her sandwich.



“But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop watching you or being wary. I’m just not built that way. Period.”



The bite lost all flavor and she lost all appetite, swallowing it quickly and tossing the rest to Carth. “‘Not built that way’? No one’s built to be paranoid. That’s an excuse.”



“Maybe so,” Carth said, brushing dirt from the sandwich. “But I’ve been betrayed before by people I... Well, it won’t happen again, that’s all.”



“People you what?” Carth ignored her, taking a bite from the sandwich. “I’m starting to get pretty tired of this attitude of yours,” she said, annoyed.



“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t be the first,” he said through a mouthful of burnt bread and half-melted cheese. He swallowed. “Look... I don’t expect you to be my friend. This is just the way I am, no need to take it personally.”



“You tell me you can’t trust me, that you’ll be watching me and waiting for me to betray you, and you, you...” She slammed her fist into the ground, unable to put words to the anger she felt.



But she was still going to try.



“Don’t tell me not to take it personally, you hairless Wookiee!”



“Hairless Wookiee? All right, sister, just... just... just calm down before your head explodes.” He looked like he might laugh. That didn’t help.



“Don’t tell me to calm down, you ignorant bantha!”



“Is that your idea of an insult?” He sat up and spread his arms wide. “Come on, sister, take your best shot.”



So now she’d gone from ‘beautiful’ to ‘sister’? And why, every time they fought, did she end up calling him names? I hate defense tactics. She snatched the sandwich from in front of him and threw it into the fire. “Drooling Bomarr cast-off!”



“Oh, ouch,” he said, a hand to his heart. “Drooling? I think you hurt my man-feelings with that one.”



“Don’t patronize me,” she said lowly, watching the fat in the cheese crackle into spurts of flame.



“Wouldn’t think of it. Feel better now?”



“No. This is serious.”