KotOR I: Orin Dakall

defoit, if you're trying to win me over with praise and outright blasphemy, you have succeeded fully. Flattery gets you everywhere.



yoshidoce, I just read chap three of your story. Talk about plot twist! And just to clarify for you and anyone else who's read both our stories--the reason Orin recognizes Canderous is NOT because they are related.



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"What are you doing?" Orin hissed. Carth snapped his head toward her, staring her down with enough ferocity that she shrank back.



"Well, look at the big spender!" Janice said, forcing cheerfulness. But the look she gave Carth was one of genuine appreciation. "The T3-M4 unit is yours. Pleasure doing business with you. ...A real pleasure."



Carth returned her gaze and gave a slight bow as his arm firmly ushered Orin to the door. A thigh-high droid whirred and followed, as did Bastila.



Once they'd cleared the shop, Carth's hand wrenched Orin around to face him.



"What the hell were you thinking?" he spat.



She crossed her arms, eyeing him warily. "No touching." She fought to maintain eye contact with Carth's glower, but only lasted a few long moments before turning her head with a sneer. "We have to save what resources we have. Or did a cute, grease-smudged girl make you forget what our mission is?"



"Unbelievable!" he said, throwing his hands in the air. "Constantly, constantly you flirt with anything breathing if it'll help you get what you want. I do it once, and you threaten the poor girl??"



Bastila looked at him sharply. "She threatened her?"



"She was about to," he growled.



"I don't give a damn about who you flirt with," Orin said, rolling her eyes.



"Why, then?"



"Again," Orin said slowly and distinctly through her clenched teeth, "Our mission. You really think she needs the credits more than we do?"



"Yes!" Carth cried, waving a gesturing arm to the store behind them. "You saw the state of her shop! You heard her say that she's fighting for customers! I, I don't get it, Dakall. After we crashed you handed out our credits to that kid in debt to Davik, but now...?"



"Experience tells me we'll either be bribing someone a significant amount to get off this planet," Orin said, looking away again, "or having staggering supply, repair and medical bills to do so."



"Then we'll figure that out when it comes," he said with finality. "You really want to kill someone in a death match, go ahead. But if you threaten violence on an innocent again, we will have a lot more than words."



He waited. At last her eyes rose, meeting his, then flicked away again. That would have to be enough.



"It's getting late," Bastila said. "We'll head back for the night."



Neither argued. They followed as she led the way, the droid bringing up the rear.



Orin turned on the floor, trying to get comfortable. She'd given Carth the bed she'd slept in the night before, partially as a conciliatory measure and partly because, well, it wasn't fair for him to have the floor again. Bastila had reluctantly volunteered hers to Zaalbar or Mission. Neither accepted.



A huge yawn stretched Orin's face and wrung a tear from each eye. She snuggled down into the pillow Carth had thrown at her before turning on his side and going to sleep. Her arm ached dully from where he'd dug in his fingers. Half dozen wounds from duels, and him grabbing my arm is what hurts? I'm such a wimp.



But remembering her duels seemed to trigger her fatigue from them, and being comfortable no longer mattered. With additional help from the droid's low hum, she drifted off in moments.



She was surrounded by darkness. Smooth metal met her fingertips as she brushed them along a wall she couldn't see. She sighed in contentment, closing her eyes, and slid down the wall to sitting. Her cheek pressed to the cool wall, she smiled. Outer space. Just dreaming about it, its vastness and quiet, soothed her.



For a year she'd only had nightmares of her first visit to Taris. Now, in the past few days... well, there were the weird Bastila dreams, but even they were an improvement. And this one.



For the first time since her rape, she slept and woke peacefully. There was longing as well, though. Outer space on a giant Republic cruiser was a very different experience from outer space in a small smuggler's ship.



All the more reason to get those launch codes. Davik's bound to have stolen a beauty of a ship.



She stretched as she rose to sitting. The droid beeped quietly at her in greeting and she tilted her head at it. Hardly typical behavior for an astrodroid. Probably needs a memory wipe. Guess Janice just upgraded the thing, and didn't actually build it herself. She shook her head. This is ridiculous. We keep adding more people to this little group, and none of them can repair worth a damn. Well, I guess I never asked Zaalbar if he's any good.



She yawned and bent her head toward her shoulder, her neck popping audibly. Her eyelids fluttered as the tension eased and her joints realigned. Can a droid perform a self-memory wipe? A noise came from beside her, and she turned.



Carth was stirring. He did everything he possibly could--roll over, yawn, stretch, grumble and reluctantly pull himself up--before finally opening his eyes. Orin beamed at him as he did.



"Morning."



He looked at her askance while rubbing one eye with the heel of his hand. "'Lo. Others up?"



"The droid. If that counts."