KotOR I: Orin Dakall

They hadn’t gone far when Mission began talking in an overtly cheerful tone, missing subtlety completely in her attempt to make everyone happy.



“Hey, Carth. You’re a pilot for the Republic, right?” He nodded at her curtly. “You’ve been all over the galaxy I bet, right?” He looked as if he really wished she’d make her point. “So tell me,” she said, the cheery tone faltering slightly, “How would you rate Taris compared to other worlds you’ve seen?”



“I’ll be honest, Mission,” he said, and Orin shot him a warning look. He glared, but made his tone a bit more diplomatic. “Taris would rate pretty low. The prejudice, the rich spoiling themselves while the poor are crushed beneath them... Not a pretty picture.”



“Yeah, but that’s only since the Sith occupation. Before that...” she trailed off, looking thoughtful. “Well, I guess it wasn’t all that different. Hmm... maybe Taris ain’t as great as I thought, you know?” This revelation seemed to remove all thoughts of reconciliation between Orin and Carth from her.



“Trust me, Mission,” Carth said kindly. “There are a lot of worlds better than Taris. There are worse, too. But Taris is no place for a kid to live on her own.” She looked up at him, angry. “Even a kid who’s got a Wookiee to look out for her,” he quickly added.



“Hey, I ain’t no kid! And I look out for Zaalbar as much as he looks out for me! He’s my friend, not my babysitter! Geez, I come ask you a question and you give me a lecture!”



Orin nodded sympathetically. “He’s like that with everyone.”



Carth gave her a dirty look. “You are not ‘everyone’.” He turned to Mission. “And don’t you snap at me, missy! You want a lecture? How’s this: only bratty little children fly off the handle because of a simple comment!”



Orin clapped her hands in delight. “Hypocrite! And did you seriously just call her ‘missy’?” She beamed, taunting him further, and spun to Mission. “You’re not going to take that from him, are you? Tell him he’s testy!”



“I don’t have to listen to you, Carth!” Mission yelled. “You ain’t my father--though you’re sure old enough to be!” Carth’s eyes narrowed. “So keep your lectures inside your withered old head, ‘cause I don’t need ‘em!”



“And I sure as hell don’t need this,” he growled, directing it at Orin with an angry glare. He looked back at Mission. “Let’s just drop it and get back to what we were doing.”



Orin stopped moving, holding up a hand to keep Mission from responding and pointed beyond a pile of rubble. Half a dozen rakghouls.



“You two cover me,” she said, pulling out her vibroblades.



“That’s twice the number we fought last time,” Carth said. “We should take them out from a distance.”



“But they aren’t going to stand around, patiently waiting for us to kill them. They’ll shorten the distance to attack us at close range, and then we all end up being eaten. Let me get up near them, you two snipe them out, and I’ll get in the second surprise attack when they run for you.”



Carth didn’t look thrilled, but nodded. Orin turned to Mission, who’d gone a drastically pale shade of blue. She punched her shoulder lightly.



“Hey, we may not be Wookiees, but we’re not a waste of our weapons, either.” Mission smiled weakly and Orin gave her a nod. “You’ll do fine. Just don’t shoot me.”



Orin ran silently to another pile of rubble, a little more than halfway between the others and the rakghouls. She leaned with her back against it, listening. Carth opening fire. Scrabbling. Angry grunts. Gamboling running.



Her hands tightened on her vibroblades and she readied herself, going into a crouch. Shiny white flashed by her and she sprung, driving her vibroblades into the necks of the two rakghouls who’d passed her. Three left.



“Where’s all my cover fire?” she yelled back to the others.



“Kid froze up!” came Carth’s reply.



Fantastic. Why couldn’t it’ve been her who needed rescuing and we’d teamed up with the Wookiee? Her eyes went wide as teeth tore through the sleeve of her armor, wrenching herself back in time to keep them from breaking skin. Right, better to focus on what we have. “Mission! How did you and Zaalbar hook up?”



“Big Z?” Her voice was dazed. “I was on my own until the day I saw him in the Lower City. I could tell right away he was in trouble.” Her voice became clearer. Stronger. A third blaster shot came over Orin’s shoulder to join Carth’s two.



Keep her talking. Don’t let her think about what she’s doing.



“Some Vulkars were hassling him, trying to pick a fight.”



“Who’d want to pick a fight with a Wookiee?” Orin yelled, ducking so the lunging rakghoul’s momentum somersaulted it over her head. She spun round, plunging a blade through its eye, trying to block another with her free sword.



“I never said they was smart!” Mission seemed back to normal, as cocky and smart-mouthed as ever, and her blaster was firing with surprising precision. “Anyway, when I saw them picking on this poor Wookiee, all alone on a strange planet, overwhelmed by the big city, I just lost it. I screamed ‘Leave him alone you core-slimes!’ and charged right at them. One of them saw me coming and slapped me so hard he just about knocked me cold.”



Rakghoul blood doused Orin as she slashed the jugular of the last. She sat heavily where she’d stood, panting and checking herself for scratches or bites. “You’re lucky you surprised him or he’d’ve fried you with a blaster.”



“Hey, I don’t need a lecture from you, you ain’t my mother!”



“I’m not old enough to be, either,” she said with a bit of a grin. Mission smiled guiltily while Carth ignored both of them.