KotOR I: Orin Dakall

They left the lower level, first destroying an evil robot from hell (but getting over 2000 credits from the stash it was guarding, so it was worth the burns sustained), and exited the base through the main door.



“All right,” Orin said, wiping sweat from her forehead after they took out the four or five Vulkars waiting for them. “Nearly done. Just get to Gadon, rescue Miss Jedi Princess, and... figure out some way to get off this fucking rock.”



“At least we don’t fret over the trivial things,” Carth added lamely.



“A shower,” Orin said as they headed to the Bek base. “Were I going to fret over something trivial,” she explained, “that’s what it’d be. In fact, first I want a shower, then a quick nap in a kolto tank, and then a hot bath with water up to my neck and a tub I can really stretch out in. Lots of soap and bubbles. And I’d just soak until I got all pruny and gross.”



“Food,” Mission said over the grumbling of her stomach. “Lots of it. The good, expensive stuff. Not the crap we eat down here.”



“How can you be hungry already?” Orin asked. “We ate... well, a while ago.”



“It doesn’t help that she ate a bunch of garbage,” Carth said. “That stuff has less nutritional content than my boots.”



Mission looked at his boots hungrily.



“Huh-uh,” he said, waving his finger, “I like these boots.”



“I’m a growing teenager,” she whined. “And I’m starving.”



“Fair enough,” Orin said. They both looked at Carth expectantly.



“What?”



“Your turn,” Mission said.



“Um... I don’t know.”



They each raised an eyebrow at him.



“There’s nothing you want,” Orin said in disbelief. “No trivial little thing to make life easier or better. You’re perfectly content with life as it is.”



“Maybe there is something I want,” Carth said slowly as they neared the entrance to Gadon’s base.



“What’s that?”



“One of those stun sticks the Vulkars had, to give you a good prod whenever you get annoying.”



“Cute,” she said with a hint of irritation.



As they entered the Bek compound, Orin pulled Mission aside.



“Okay kid, I know you want to go check on Zaalbar--”



“It’s no big deal,” she said a little awkwardly. “I can wait. I mean, I’m sure he’s fine.”



“Uh huh. Look, seeing how soon the race is starting, I’m guessing the Beks won’t let me out of their sight. So I want you to run some errands for me--one of them being to check up on your friend.”



Mission looked thrilled at the prospect of not only seeing Zaalbar, but also being needed. “Okay! What do you need me to do?”



“Once you check on Zaalbar, head to the next apartment over. There’ll be a woman there named Dia. Tell her you’re with me, and that the bounty’s been lifted. And, uh, try to get some credits out of her if possible. It’s going to take a lot of bribes to get us off the planet.



“Then head over to Zelka Forn’s. You know who that is? ‘Kay, the medical facility near the cantina. Go there and give this--” Orin took off her pack, rummaging through it and pulling out the vials of rakghoul serum, “to Zelka and only Zelka. Keep it the hell away from his assistant.”



She paused, looking at the vials. “Crap, those Undercity people.” She thought quickly. “All right, save four or five of those vials and take them back to the Undercity. That should be more than enough. Oh.”



She searched through her pack again, pulling out several holocrons.



“Take these to the crazy guy there. The one was his assistant’s. The others, well, I don’t know if he wants them or not, but they’re no good to me and they belonged to Undercity folks. Figure they’re better with him or whoever wants to claim them.”



“That it?”



Orin silently ticked everything off on her fingers. “For now. Repeat it all back.”



Mission did so and Orin nodded. “Good. Grab some food before you head out.”



Mission smiled and ran to the kitchens.



Orin looked over at Carth.



“Let’s get this done with.”



They approached Gadon, who stood as Zaerdra, his bodyguard, announced them. “You’ve returned. Do you have the accelerator with you?”



Orin set it on his desk with a dull thump. “Right here.”



A beam broke across his face. “I was beginning to wonder if you would make it. The race is tomorrow.”



“Believe me, it’s been hard to forget,” she said.



“Well, my mechanics should have time to install the prototype into the swoop engine of our bike. You’re still wanting to enter the race?”



“Heh. It’s not a question of ‘want’ so much as ‘am contractually obligated under threat of long-term incarceration’.”



Gadon laughed. Even Carth couldn’t help a small smile.



“That’s good either way, really. None of the other riders will give up Bastila if they win.” He clapped both of them on the shoulders. “Stay here tonight. We have quarters prepared. You won’t be able to practice though... The mechanics need time to install the accelerator on the engine.”



“No practice... at all?” Orin asked a bit desperately and looking a little green.



“Just relax and in the morning we’ll take you to the swoop track.”



He waved a Bek over and instructed her to take them to the guest quarters. They followed her, Orin looking increasingly ill and Carth glancing at her, concerned.



The Bek paused at a door, indicating for them to enter.



“Will you go to the Mess, or do you want food brought here?”



Orin dry heaved and ran into the room, leaving Carth and the Bek in awkward silence.



“Um, we’ll, uh, get something later,” he said, quickly following the sounds of retching.



He found Orin on the floor of a small bathroom adjoined to the room, arms draped over the refresher bin.



“I’m going to die,” she moaned.



“What did you eat at the Vulkar base?” he asked.



“Not that, stupid. I’m going to get blown up. Explodificated all over a swoop track.”



“Look,” he said, “if you’re this worried about it... I’ll do it. I’ll do the race.”



She looked up hopefully, then bit her lip. Then fell back onto the floor, resting her cheek on the cool tile. “No. You were right before. Arrogant, but right.”



“I was?”



She raised her head. “You’re too valuable to put in that sort of danger. If we’re getting off this rock without resorting to stowing away in a Sith freighter, we’ll need the best fucking pilot we can get.” She laid her head back down. “I just hope you live up to the hype.”



“Hey.”



She smiled a little guiltily. “Sorry.”



“So... does that count as winning an argument?”



“Tell you what,” she said. “Find me a kolto tank while I run through the shower, and you can pick any conversation topic you want.”



He looked at her warily. “The conversation won’t be taking place while you’re in the tank, right?”



She smiled. “Smart boy. Nope, this is pure post-tank convo I’m offering.”



He smiled. A little too eagerly. “Get in the shower then. I’ll be right back.”