KotOR I: Orin Dakall

Author's Note: Shadows Run, getting your reviews makes my day! Especially when I get two! Thanks!



I'm a big fan of answering one question only to raise a lot more--blame my brother for making me watch LOST--but I promise they'll be answered as time goes on.



It was a long time ago that I started using "Orin Dakall" as my character's name. I think "Orin" came from the random name generator, but I didn't like the last name and "Dakall" just seemed to fit. Not sure how I came up with it. Or maybe it was the other way around.



And I'm glad the rape was disturbing. It was tricky to write, because sex = hot! and I really wanted to get Orin's terror across. If experiencing that doesn't fuck up your future relationships, what will?



Thanks again for the reviews, and thanks to you all for reading and voting.



On to more interesting bits:



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“Mission,” Carth said, thinking quickly, “Could you and Zaalbar run back to Zelka’s facility and see if he has any ideas?”



“Why don’t we just take her there?” she asked. Logically.



“Nuh-uh,” Orin said, ducking her head away from Zaalbar in paranoia. “No more upside down, blood-rushing to head, crazy pass-out dreams for me.”



“Then we’ll go,” Zaalbar said. Mission shrugged and followed him out the door.



Carth waited for the door to close... Then for Bastila to surreptitiously check her hair in the mirror across the room...



And he was crouched in front of Orin, checking her for bruises, swelling, and pulling her eyelids back to check her pupils. She batted him back.



“What are you doing?” she asked, annoyed.



He tried to get a look at her pupils again. She slapped his hands away, and, annoyed himself, he leaned them on her knees. “Checking for a concussion, or something worse. I... We need you well if we’re going to get out of this hell-hole.”



“Damn straight you do.”



“‘Cause I’m not carrying you around like some invalid. You can’t take it, then you and your Wookiee can stay here.”



She glared at him as he leaned in closer, his hands resting more weight on her lower thighs. But he didn’t see her expression. He was looking at the liquid oozing from her scalp, making its way to her forehead.



He let out an irritated sigh, and Orin stiffened as his warm breath hit her face. The pit of her stomach responded in much the same way it did when she’d seen Revan’s swordplay in her dream. She quashed the feeling promptly.



No way. Get through a sex dream without Asstila showing up, and then you can consider real sex. And with someone a decade closer to your age.



“Are you going to sit there sighing, or were you planning on telling me how I’m ruining your life this time?”



Carth looked down at her, meeting her eyes. She swallowed, double-quashing her stupid hormones, shoving them into a straight-jacket, and tossing them into a pit of starving kath hounds. Metaphorically.



Bastila cleared her throat.



Carth stood, and Orin’s half-devoured hormones whined at the loss of his contact.



“Your goose egg is draining pus. A lot of it.”



“Which has no affect on my motor skills.”



Orin’s holocron beeped. An image of Mission’s head, bored, sprang up from it as she accepted the communication.



“He says with what injuries and stresses you’ve put your body through, you outta be dead. But your time in the kolto tank should’ve helped.”



Mission looked to her side for a moment.



“How much sleep have you been getting?” Zelka’s voice asked in the background.



Her eyes darted to Carth and he crossed his arms expectantly.



“Um... not a whole lot...”



“She didn’t sleep at all last night and has only been getting a few hours other than that,” Carth said, leaning in toward the holocron.



“When was the last time you ate?” came Zelka’s voice, stern.



“It’s been over 24 hours,” Carth said, not giving her the chance to reply.



There was a brief pause.



“I realize you’re busy, miss,” Zelka said stiffly. “And I appreciate what you’ve done for us by getting the rakghoul serum. So understand that I’m saying this in order to show my gratitude by prolonging your life: Get a good meal. Lots of vegetables. Get some good rest in a real bed. Then, if time allows it, come by and I’ll check you over and get you in a tank for a while.”



“Thank you, doctor, she’ll do that.” Carth ended the call and looked up, glaring at Orin.



“Gee, thanks Dad,” she said, returning the glare.



“Just how much of an idiot are you?” he asked.



“No no. You don’t get to be mad at me, Mr. Patronizing Ass.”



“I’m pretty sure I’m entitled if your absolute inability to do anything intelligent is--”



“Right,” she spat, “I’ve just been holding you all back. Really, I’m surprised you didn’t kick me out sooner. In fact, I’m shocked you stuck around on the Spire after Trask was murdered. I figure he’s the one you were looking to save.” She clambered to her feet. “So sorry to disappoin--” She wobbled and Carth caught her as she started to fall, straightening her up, and spinning her around.



“In the bed. Now.” His voice brooked no refusal. She sat, sullen.



“Lie down,” he ordered. “I’m going to go find some food.”



“Already got some!” Mission cheered as she and Zaalbar entered. “Dumpling soup and veggies!” She handed off a carton to Orin, whose stomach growled its appreciation. “Zaalbar picked them up while I talked to Dr. Forn. Eat up and fill us in on the plan!”



Orin looked up from her dumplings. “Plan?”



“To get off Taris!”



“Wait,” Bastila said, getting up. “You mean you don’t have a plan yet? You told me you and Carth were working on one. What have you been doing all this time?”



“We had to find you, remember? And you’ve been here for the current time-wasting drama.”



“I see,” she said, folding her arms and pursing her lips. “Now that I’m back in charge of this mission, perhaps we can start doing things properly. And hopefully our escape from Taris will go more smoothly than when you “rescued” me from Brejik.”



“I doubt it.” Orin munched on a dumpling, washing it down with broth.



Her color was already improving. Carth hid his look of relief, using a bandage to mop the pus from her hair. She looked up at him, irritated, but resumed eating.



He ignored the stab of hurt at her response and looked over at Bastila. “I know you’re new at this, but a leader doesn’t berate her troops just because things aren’t going as planned.”



“A good leader doesn’t,” Orin amended, mouth full. Carth gave her lump a particularly hard rub. She whimpered and quietly returned to her food.



“Don’t let your ego get in the way of the real issues here,” he said, his tone not indicating which female he was addressing.



Bastila put a hand on her hip.



Pfft, if that’s the best she can do, she doesn’t have a chance at convincing him of anything, Orin thought, slurping up more broth.