KotOR I: Orin Dakall

Author's Note:



Just a quick thanks to everyone.



Shadows Run--I love getting your feedback. It lets me know I'm on the right track. Thanks!



Aleta Rois--That means you think the chapters are quality so far... right? And thank you for being so willingly patient.



To all other readers, thanks just for reading! (And voting, to you who have!)



Onto the less-boring stuff.



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“These are my new friends, Big Z. Without them I never could have got you out.”



Carth jumped to his feet as Mission and Zaalbar entered, Orin’s head connecting firmly with the concrete.



“Son of a BITCH!”



Carth apologized, helping her up to sitting as she rubbed the back of her head ruefully. Mission was looking at her with concern while Zaalbar watched her cautiously.



“What’d I do to piss you off now?”



“It was an accident.”



“Hn. Didn’t feel like one.”



Mission and Zaalbar looked at each other.



“They’re like this a lot,” she said over what was now snide bickering. “Are you sure you want to do this?”



Zaalbar looked down, still rubbing his wrists where he’d been chained. “When the Gamorreans captured me, I thought I was doomed to a life of servitude. I have been saved from such a fate, and the only way I can repay that is through a lifedebt.”



Orin froze mid-quip, her finger still in Carth’s face as her eyes moved to the Wookie. “What?”



Zaalbar looked surprised. Well, it was tough to tell with the fur obscuring his features, but his eyes definitely widened.



“You know the language of my people? That is rare among your species; I am impressed.” He paused slightly, perhaps reconsidering, then said, “Yes. You have saved me from a life of servitude and slavery. There is only one way I can repay such an act. I swear a lifedebt to you.”



“Me?? Mission went and found you; swear one to her.”



“What’s going on?” Carth asked, not liking the panic in Orin’s voice. “He... swore at you?”



“In the presence of you all I swear my lifedebt,” Zaalbar said. “Forever after I will be by your side, Orin Dakall. May my vow be as strong as the roots of the great Wroshyr trees of Kashyyyk.”



Orin let her forehead fall into her palm. “Son of a bitch,” she moaned under her breath. Not looking up, she said, “I am honored to accept your vow.” She didn’t sound like she meant it.



“What is going on?” Carth repeated.



“I guess this means you’re stuck with me too. Wherever Big Z goes, I’m going.”



“What?” Carth said, looking to Orin for confirmation. She was slowly shaking her head, still leaning on her palm.



“Hey, I almost lost him once--it’s not going to happen again.”



“Glad to have you with us,” Orin muttered sourly.



“Um,” Mission began, unsure of how to react to Orin’s response, “I guess I still owe you one secret path into the Vulkar base, yeah?”



“In the morning.” Orin blinked and looked around her. “Or whatever. I’m going to sleep. We’ll go when I wake up.” She crawled over to a dry corner of concrete and laid down, curling up with her arms under her head.



Mission and Zaalbar retreated to another room and Orin briefly wondered just what their relationship was. Then Carth was there. All annoying and Carth-like.



“Care to tell me what’s going on? I hate to be redundant, but I hate not knowing what’s going on more.”



“I’m still trying to grasp it, myself,” she said wearily. “Can’t we fight about it in the morning?”



His eyes narrowed. “Why are we going to fight about it?”



She scoffed, moving her head slightly to a more comfortable bit of arm. “What don’t we fight about?”



“Look, just tell me what the Wookie said.”



“See?” she said with a yawn. “We’re fighting right now.”



“Because no one will tell me what's going on!” he yelled, grabbing her arm and pulling her up so she was facing him before he thought to do anything else. He tried to dodge, but Orin’s fist connected sharply with his eye.



“Don’t touch me,” she growled.



The eye was red and watering, and already he could feel it beginning to swell. He glared at her, using his clean sleeve to wipe the tears streaming from it. “Bitch,” he spat.



She looked like she might hit him again. Then she deflated. “Zaalbar swore a lifedebt to me. Wherever I go for the rest of my life, I’ll have a Wookie and his pet Twi’lek tagging along.” She sighed, leaning back on the wall. “I am never going to have a moment of peace again.”



"Since when do you like peace?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.



"Since it was taken from me."



Carth frowned. “Well, they can’t come with us.”



“Duh.”



He sat down next to her. “How are we going to get three humans, a Twi’lek, and a Wookie off Taris?”



"We don't. We ditch the two that stand out the most."



"But..."



"But nothing. It's bad enough I have to do my little stint with the Republic."



Carth stiffened.



"I am not playing babysitter the rest of my life. They have their own lives and can do with them what they will. Just so long as it doesn't involve me." She yawned again.



"So when you said you were 'recruited'..."



Her jaw tightened. "Due to... unfortunate circumstances, I was captured by Republic forces. I was given several options. Resist and be executed. Go to trial and spend the next hundred or so years in a prison camp doing hard labor. Or turn traitor. Work for them, tell them everything I know, and once I outlive any semblance of use, I'm allowed to do as I will. Provided it is strictly within their laws. Or outside their jurisdiction."



"So you turned traitor."



"And this is where you shake your head and mutter 'smuggler', right?" she sneered. "What would you have done?"



He thought for a moment. Then: "I'm more concerned with finding Bastila and getting us all off this planet."



“Best case scenario, I’m thinking, is I’m killed while we’re still trying to figure that out.”



“Brilliant,” he said, yawning. “Just make sure you f--” He paused as her head fell onto his shoulder. Her mouth hung open, drool creeping toward the corner of her mouth. She was asleep. He rolled his eyes, stifling another yawn, and lowered her to the ground. “Finish the swoop race first.”



He reached for his pack, laying down and using it as a very awkward pillow. “I don’t get you at all.”