KotOR I: Orin Dakall

The shower actually had hot water. And decent soap. Though, the fervent rubbing of the soap, causing minor cuts to open and suds to wash into them, was less than pleasant.



Orin took inventory as she tried to relax, letting the water pour over her. The injuries from the Spire and the crash were still taking their time healing. The others, the blaster burns and whatnot, weren’t too bad to begin with, and were improving quickly. She tentatively felt the lump on her head. It flared in pain, but the swelling had lowered ever so slightly.



She sighed, leaning her head back against the wall of the shower. Few more scars to add to the body art.



She rested there a few more minutes, then realized Carth would want a shower too, and would probably prefer hot water. Reluctantly she turned it off and toweled down.



She opened the door slowly, checking to make sure no one was in the bedroom, then hurried out to her pack, her towel loose around her. No clean clothes. She looked around the bedroom. Apparently the Beks figured their guests would be smart enough to bring their own pajamas.



Guess it’s back to the Republic uniform, she thought with a grimace. That’s only been sitting in my pack a couple days, fermenting it’s nastiness into every thread of--AGH!



“AGH!” She scrambled to her feet, tightening her towel as Carth entered.



He reddened and looked at the floor. “Um, they do have a tank. And they’re willing to let you use it if you’re... interested.”



“Um, okay. Thanks.”



“A medical... person... is setting it up now.”



“Yeah, okay.”



They stood there for several seconds, Carth still gazing intently at the floor.



“So, do you want me to leave or something?”



“I, um... aw hell.”



He looked up. “What?”



“I don’t have any clean clothes,” she whined in frustration.



“Well, you can wash your stuff while we’re here, I’d think.” He walked past her to his own pack. “And I guess in the meantime...” He rummaged through, and pulled out the top to a set of pajamas. Nice, monogrammed pajamas. He held it out to her. “Clean. But I’m drawing the line there. I need something too.”



She took them, trying not to smirk.



“What?” he asked, a little exasperated.



“It’s monogrammed,” she said. “That’s so... dorky of you.”



He shrugged his shoulders, looking at it. “They were a gift.”



“Sorry, I just...” She rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna stop talking. Thank you.”



He nodded. Her brow furrowed.



“What happened to you?” she asked, closing the distance between them, and using one hand to keep her towel closed and the other to gently examine a dark bruise around his eye.



He looked at her a little incredulously. “You punched me.”



“Oh god,” she said, “that was-- I didn’t mean-- Carth, I--”



He raised his hand, amused at her being so flustered. “It’ll heal.” He watched as she pulled back her hand, his eyes traveling up her arm to her shoulders and-- “What happened to you?”



He resisted the urge to reach out to touch the hundreds of silver scars starting on her arms, going onto her torso and, he looked at her legs, likely continuing all the way down to her feet.



She looked down at them herself. “Battle scars.”



He wanted to ask more. Where she’d gotten them; if she’d been in the wars. But he held his tongue. If he was going to ask his question later, he didn’t want her claiming he’d already picked a conversation topic.



He turned, pulling a dressing gown that matched the pajamas from his pack as well, extending it to her. “Well, get dressed and head to the North-West wing of the base. That’s where you’ll find the kolto tank. I,” he said, pulling out the matching bottoms, “am taking a shower and heading to bed.”



He was about to close the bathroom door when he looked out. “You have a side preference?”



Orin blinked at him.



He waited.



“...huh?”



He pointed to the bed. The bed. Only one.



“Oh.” How kind of Gadon to assume the two of us are... bed-sharing. “Um, I dunno.”



“I can ask to have a separate room, if you want.”



Like he’d try anything.



“Naw, it’s okay. Take whichever side you want. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”



“‘Kay.”



He disappeared into the bathroom, and she dressed. The water turned on as she left.



-----



Ungh... she thought, a little over an hour later as her kolto tank drained. The sensory deprivation is so creepy, but the happy, tingly feelings are so niiiice...



She dried off again, checking her wounds. They certainly felt better, even if they didn't look it.



She headed back to their room, taking care to open the door as quietly as possible. But the light was on. And Carth, hair still dripping, had obviously just finished his shower.



“Figured you’d be asleep already,” she said, pulling off the dressing gown.



“Nope,” he said, rubbing his head with his towel. “Just getting to it.”



“Did you pick a side?”



“Left,” he said, finding a dry bit of towel and rubbing again with renewed vigor.



“Uh, left facing the bed, or left--”



“Facing.”



“‘Kay.” She pulled back the covers on the right, folding them over to Carth’s side, and slipped under the remaining sheet.



“So,” he said, hanging the towel on the bathroom door, then pausing at the foot of the bed. “The race isn’t for another thirteen hours.”



Orin looked determinedly not sick. “Yep.”



He fiddled with the tie of his pajama bottoms. “And I know what I want to talk about.”



She nodded, her wounds still a little tingly from the kolto. “Your choice is well-earned.”



He walked over, pulling the blankets off the bed entirely, and climbed under the sheet. He took a deep breath, refusing to let himself lose his nerve.



“What’s the deal with you and Davik?”



-----



Author's Note: Oh guys, I feel so bad leaving off right there. But just be patient. Pretty, pretty please. I've been wanting to write tomorrow's chapter since I first thought about doing this (ridiculously long) walk through. Hopefully it lives up to my expectations.