KotOR I: Orin Dakall

“Who’s going to sell him into slavery? What are you talking about?”



“Me...” she sniffed, “Me and Zaalbar were just wandering around here in the Undercity. You know, looking for stuff we could find, just kind of exploring. We do it all the time.”



“I guess with a Wookiee at your side you’ve got to figure you can handle the odd rakghoul attack,” Carth deadpanned.



“Only this time they were waiting for us! Gamorrean slave hunters! We didn’t even have a chance to run, Big Z threw himself at them, and he roared for me to run!” She took a shaky breath. “I... I took off.” She looked at Orin and Carth pleadingly. “I figured he’d be right behind me! ...But there were too many of them, he couldn’t get away. They’re going to sell him to a slaver, I know it!”



Gadon had told them that Mission was their best bet at getting in the back entrance of the Vulkar hideout. And here was their chance. “If we help you get Zaalbar back, you have to get us inside the Vulkar base.”



“It’s a deal!” she said, wiping the tears from her cheeks determinedly.



“Do you know where he’s being kept?” Carth asked.



“The Gamorreans make their camps in the sewers. I bet that’s where we’ll find Zaalbar, and that’s where I’ll show you the secret entrance into the Vulkar compound.”



They fitted Mission with Carth’s old armor and the heavy blaster Orin kept for close range fire fights. While Mission strapped her stealth generator on over the armor and Carth tried to make it shorter and smaller, Orin examined the vibroblade the Twi’lek had been carrying.



“You can use that if you want,” Mission said, seeing her eye it with interest. “I mean, if you’re gonna be hacking and slashing and I’m gonna be back shooting.”



“We’ll say I’m borrowing it,” Orin said with a grin, giving it a flip before pulling out her long sword with her left hand and replacing the vibroblade in its sheath. “Reminds me though, we need to find a workbench. Get some upgrades on this baby and get the scope fitted on your blaster,” she said with a nod to Carth.



“We could fit the armor to the kid too,” he replied, looking a bit unsure at its current bagginess.



“Keep your eyes peeled. I don’t expect to run into one down here, but if we do, may as well use it to our advantage. Better than having to go back to Upper City just to find one.”



“You there! Civilian!” A Sith patrol made their way toward them. “This is a restricted area! What are you doing down here?”



Orin lazily flicked out Gadon’s papers and handed them to the leader.



“Oh... you’re one of those trackers the Commander sent down, right? They should have sent you an armed escort, it’s nasty down here! We’ve already lost one patrol. We figure the rakghouls got them. We’ve had so many encounters with those things we’ve actually run out of the serum.”



“Not even a spare vial, for emergencies?”



“Not one,” he said with a shake of his head. “Plus we’ve had several skirmishes with looters from those Lower City swoop gangs. I’m telling you, we should just stay in the Upper City where we have control!”



“Why don’t you give up the search, then?” The patrol leader and Carth looked at her like she was insane.



“I’d never disobey my orders,” the patrol leader said scathingly. “You scavenger scum couldn’t understand.” He waved forward the rest of his patrol. “Back to it, men. Sooner we get this search done the sooner we can get out of this mutant-infested hole.”



Carth shook his head at her as they moved on.



“Just spit it out already, will you?” Orin growled.



He sniffed. “He’s right. You don’t understand soldiers.” He adjusted his pack and looked vaguely smug. “You’re just too much of a--”



“What? Smuggler?” She rolled her eyes, suddenly looking forward to finding Bastila and getting off the planet so she could go back to her life and away from Republic pilots. “That doesn’t really work as an insult, seeing as I was one, and readily admitted to it.”



“Hardly readily,” he grumbled under his breath. Just not under enough.



She stopped, turning to face him. Mission was looking between the two uncomfortably. “You asked my position. I told you I had been a smuggler and was recruited for my knowledge. How is that ‘hardly readily’?”



“I had to ask, didn’t I?” For one who didn’t get testy, it was certainly seeming like he was. She stared at him dumbly.



“You seriously want me to include my résumé when introducing myself to people?”



He folded his arms across his chest. “Oh, stop acting like a child.”



“You’re the one playing like being a soldier is some secret club that I’m not allowed to join. Oh goodie,” she said, dripping sarcasm, “You can shoot things until they die. Did you repair that droid yesterday? Pick any locks? Maybe talk us out of a tight spot?”



“If I was going to ‘talk us out of a tight spot’ with your methods, I’d have to grow breasts!”



Orin bit back a growl as he barreled on.



“And the way I see it, you’ve talked us into trouble more than anything else!” He threw up his hands. “But it doesn’t matter anyway. You have someone else to shoot things for you now,” he said hotly with a flourish toward Mission. “I’ll leave with a clean conscience since I’m such a mono-talented hindrance.”



“Ah,” she said with a sneer, “but what about your beloved Bastila? What about soldiers never disobeying orders?”



“You know that time when you were knocked unconscious for several days?” he hissed. “I’m really starting to miss it.”



“You’re not the only one,” Orin spat. She spun on her heel and resumed walking.