KotOR I: Orin Dakall
folder
+G through L › Knights of the Old Republic
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
55
Views:
10,140
Reviews:
44
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+G through L › Knights of the Old Republic
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
55
Views:
10,140
Reviews:
44
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Knights of the Old Republic, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Fourty Eight: Just Say No
“Orin!”
Mission was waving to her over the stilling crowd, Zaalbar and Carth nearby. Someone had flipped the shields back on after Orin was shot, and apparentely just maiming wasn’t enough to keep the mob’s interest.
Orin made her way to them, Bastila following. People stepped back so she could get through. She rather liked that. Whatever she did after quitting the military would have to involve deferential treatment of some sort.
“Where did you find Bastila?”
“I found her,” Bastila told Mission haughtily.
“How did you get through the crowd?” she asked in awe. “Can you... teleport?”
“I walked,” Bastila said with the barest of eyerolls.
They moved collectively out of the arena and toward the cantina exit.
A hand gingerly brushed Orin’s back, over her bandage.
“Are you all right?” Carth asked quietly.
“Med droid patched me up. I’m fine.”
He didn’t look entirely satisfied with her answer.
“Do you know who did it?”
“Not the slightest clue.”
They were at the door when a heavy hand landed on Orin’s shoulder, spinning her around. It was a Mandalorian. Or someone who’d got his hands on a suit of Mandalorian battle armor.
“I’ve been watching you in the dueling ring. Not bad for an amateur.”
“Uh, thanks,” she said, turning back to leave.
“I’m tempted to come out of retirement and show you what it’s like to do battle against a real champion.”
Orin stopped. Her inherent stupidness-when-challenged flared. She turned.
“But I only fight in death matches,” he continued, “and not too many people are willing to step into the ring knowing they won’t ever come out. How ‘bout you, Stranger? You got what it takes?”
A smile flickered on her face as recognition dawned. “A death match duelist? I assume you’re Bendak Starkiller, then?”
“I’m not giving out holoprints, if that’s what you want.”
She shook her head. “Naw. I want a couple thousand credits for bringing in your head.”
Bendak leaned back against a pazaak table, looking wholly unconcerned. “So you’re the one doing Zax’s dirty work. I hear you already brought down Selven. But I got some bad news for you, little bounty hunter. There’s no way you’re bringing me in.”
“You think you’re that good?”
He laughed. “This cantina is wired with a top level security grid. You pull a weapon on me and the auto-fire turrets will fry you before you can even pull the trigger.”
“So, what, you’ll just hide in here like a coward?”
“Is staying in a public place hiding? Besides, why would I ever want to leave? I’ve got food and drinks, a place to stay--and everybody treats me with the respect I’ve earned for my dueling career.”
“How much does it take to convince one of the dancers to sleep with you?” Orin jeered.
“I don’t find them all that appealing. But there are plenty of young men and aliens about, wanting to hear tales of my exploits, who are more than willing to sate my needs.”
Orin growled. “You can’t stay in here forever.”
“I’m quite sure that I can. But if you’re set on collecting that bounty, I’ll make you a deal. I kind of miss the fight game. My hand is itching for the feel of a blaster in my grip. You’re just good enough to spark my interest, so I’ll agree to face you in a death match. You win, you get to collect your bounty.”
Orin didn’t need to consider. Her hand was outstretched before he finished his final sentence.
“You’re on. Name your time and place.”
Bendak gripped her hand, shaking it forcefully. “Finally, fresh meat! Ajuur will set it all up. It will take some time to arrange, so no point sticking around here until then. I’ll be back when it’s time for you to die!”
He disappeared into the private section of the cantina, and Orin headed back to Ajuur.
“I’ve heard the news, Mysterious Stranger. You and Bendak are planning a death match!”
I guess eavesdropping crowds are good for something.
“This is excellent news,” Ajuur said, rubbing his hands together greedily. “People will bet a fortune on this fight!”
“Great. How long before it’s set up?”
“Oh, at least a day. Go enjoy living while you can.”
“Your encouraging words give me such confidence,” she deadpanned as she walked away. Hopefully the others had noticed she wasn’t with them and were waiting outside.
Mission was waving to her over the stilling crowd, Zaalbar and Carth nearby. Someone had flipped the shields back on after Orin was shot, and apparentely just maiming wasn’t enough to keep the mob’s interest.
Orin made her way to them, Bastila following. People stepped back so she could get through. She rather liked that. Whatever she did after quitting the military would have to involve deferential treatment of some sort.
“Where did you find Bastila?”
“I found her,” Bastila told Mission haughtily.
“How did you get through the crowd?” she asked in awe. “Can you... teleport?”
“I walked,” Bastila said with the barest of eyerolls.
They moved collectively out of the arena and toward the cantina exit.
A hand gingerly brushed Orin’s back, over her bandage.
“Are you all right?” Carth asked quietly.
“Med droid patched me up. I’m fine.”
He didn’t look entirely satisfied with her answer.
“Do you know who did it?”
“Not the slightest clue.”
They were at the door when a heavy hand landed on Orin’s shoulder, spinning her around. It was a Mandalorian. Or someone who’d got his hands on a suit of Mandalorian battle armor.
“I’ve been watching you in the dueling ring. Not bad for an amateur.”
“Uh, thanks,” she said, turning back to leave.
“I’m tempted to come out of retirement and show you what it’s like to do battle against a real champion.”
Orin stopped. Her inherent stupidness-when-challenged flared. She turned.
“But I only fight in death matches,” he continued, “and not too many people are willing to step into the ring knowing they won’t ever come out. How ‘bout you, Stranger? You got what it takes?”
A smile flickered on her face as recognition dawned. “A death match duelist? I assume you’re Bendak Starkiller, then?”
“I’m not giving out holoprints, if that’s what you want.”
She shook her head. “Naw. I want a couple thousand credits for bringing in your head.”
Bendak leaned back against a pazaak table, looking wholly unconcerned. “So you’re the one doing Zax’s dirty work. I hear you already brought down Selven. But I got some bad news for you, little bounty hunter. There’s no way you’re bringing me in.”
“You think you’re that good?”
He laughed. “This cantina is wired with a top level security grid. You pull a weapon on me and the auto-fire turrets will fry you before you can even pull the trigger.”
“So, what, you’ll just hide in here like a coward?”
“Is staying in a public place hiding? Besides, why would I ever want to leave? I’ve got food and drinks, a place to stay--and everybody treats me with the respect I’ve earned for my dueling career.”
“How much does it take to convince one of the dancers to sleep with you?” Orin jeered.
“I don’t find them all that appealing. But there are plenty of young men and aliens about, wanting to hear tales of my exploits, who are more than willing to sate my needs.”
Orin growled. “You can’t stay in here forever.”
“I’m quite sure that I can. But if you’re set on collecting that bounty, I’ll make you a deal. I kind of miss the fight game. My hand is itching for the feel of a blaster in my grip. You’re just good enough to spark my interest, so I’ll agree to face you in a death match. You win, you get to collect your bounty.”
Orin didn’t need to consider. Her hand was outstretched before he finished his final sentence.
“You’re on. Name your time and place.”
Bendak gripped her hand, shaking it forcefully. “Finally, fresh meat! Ajuur will set it all up. It will take some time to arrange, so no point sticking around here until then. I’ll be back when it’s time for you to die!”
He disappeared into the private section of the cantina, and Orin headed back to Ajuur.
“I’ve heard the news, Mysterious Stranger. You and Bendak are planning a death match!”
I guess eavesdropping crowds are good for something.
“This is excellent news,” Ajuur said, rubbing his hands together greedily. “People will bet a fortune on this fight!”
“Great. How long before it’s set up?”
“Oh, at least a day. Go enjoy living while you can.”
“Your encouraging words give me such confidence,” she deadpanned as she walked away. Hopefully the others had noticed she wasn’t with them and were waiting outside.