KotOR I: Orin Dakall

They entered the complex, Orin immediately starting up where she’d left off in the first. She could feel Carth’s disapproval as she picked the lock of the first apartment, but he didn’t say anything and she certainly wasn’t going to talk.



As the door opened, a man leapt back, cowering. “Please, please don’t hurt me! You don’t have to kill me, I’ll have Davik’s money if he, if he just gives me a little more time! Please, I don’t want to die!” he shrieked hysterically. Orin watched as he pulled a wad of credits from his pockets, shoving them at her. “Here, I’ve got 50 credits on me, that’s all I’ve got. It’s yours, just don’t tell Davik where I’m hiding, okay? I’m begging you!”



She pushed his outstretched hands away, walking in and closing the door behind Carth as he followed. “Davik’s certainly gained ground in my absence,” she said. “Though considering his methods,” she looked over at the astonished man as she sat down, “I’m hardly surprised.”



“You’re not here to kill me? I thought you were one of Davik’s bounty hunters.” Orin stiffened, and the man quickly said, “If you’re not here to kill me, what do you want?”



“Maybe I could help you.”



He looked floored. Carth didn’t look much different.



“I don’t think anyone can help me. I owe Davik, and I was late with the payment, so he put a put a price on my head! I’ve been hiding out here, but sooner or later someone will find me, and unless I come up with another 200 credits I’m a dead man.”



“Here,” she said brusquely, counting out bills and holding them out to him. He edged forward, unbelievingly, slowly taking them from her hand.



“You’d give 200 credits to a stranger, just to help them out?! I... I don’t believe it! Thank you!”



Carth came up behind her and leant over her shoulder. “That was generous of you,” he said, not sounding particularly pleased. “What happens if we need those credits later on?”



“I’ll go back to the dueling ring,” Orin returned snidely. Carth straightened, grunting his annoyance. The man disappeared out the door to repay Davik and Orin stood.



“Now we see if he was telling the truth.” She deftly jimmied open the footlocker hidden behind her chair. One credit and a computer spike. “I guess so.”



A minute later, Orin entered the Sith party, Carth once again hanging behind, so as not to be suspicious. He hadn’t seemed pleased with the arrangement, but he couldn’t argue the fact that he hadn’t been invited, and gate crashing wasn’t likely to help them get the information they needed. He didn’t miss much.



Yun clung to her side, talking about little other than Tarisian ale. She politely refused to partake, but when he pulled her into a corner and kissed her softly, she allowed him to.



She was tired of the responsibility, of Carth constantly telling her that they had to find Bastila. She returned Yun’s sweet kiss, savoring that he at least thought her more important than any other woman present. It didn’t get farther than that. Maybe she would’ve let it if Yun hadn’t passed out from the ale, she wasn’t sure.



Still, she hadn’t learned much. Unwilling to leave without having made some progress, she stole the uniform from the pack of another passed out Sith as the door opened. Carth.



“I hadn’t heard anything for awhile,” he said, gazing around at the unconscious partygoers. “I thought something might’ve happened. You took them all out?”



Orin pointed to an empty bottle. “Didn’t need to.” She stood, having transferred the uniform to her own pack, and saw Carth staring at the Sith, blaster in his hand. “You’re going to kill them in their sleep?” she asked, wryly. He looked down at his hand in surprise, then up at her.



“Would they do any different?”



She shrugged. “You could wake them up and ask.”



“You just don’t want me to hurt your evil boyfriend,” he said with a sneer. Orin cocked her head at him, then looked over at Yun, breathing evenly, curled up on a couch.



“Do you really think there’s only good and evil? And that they’re divided into Republic and Sith?” She walked over to Yun, gazing down at him. Remembering his warm lips and dark eyes. “What’s more evil?” she asked, placing her foot on his neck, “Letting oppressors live? Or snapping their necks when they’re defenseless?” She looked over at Carth, whose eyes were on her foot. She removed it from Yun’s unguarded neck. “Do you think they think of themselves as evil?” She paused, considering it herself. “If they do, it only makes them more fascinating.”



Carth’s eyes snapped from her boot to her face. “What?”



She shrugged. “No one’s born evil, are they? So what happened in these people’s lives to make them think being a Sith is the best path? The right one?” She knelt by Yun, lightly stroking his hair. He smiled in his sleep. “I guess with the lower ranked, it may just be greed. But the higher they go, the worse they get, right? So what catastrophe is it that made Malak what he is today?” She stopped, looking up at Carth. “You don’t find that intriguing?”



He harrumphed. “Didn’t think about it until now. And I was perfectly happy not to.”



“Well,” she said as she stood, annoyed, “So terribly sorry for making the good little soldier think about something other than if his boots were polished to regulation.” She breezed past him. He took another long look at the Sith, then holstered his pistol and followed her.



By the time he caught up, Orin was already surrounded by a group of drunken men, eyeing her. She looked ready to do some serious damage, and Carth shoved through them to her side. They glared at him, and both his and Orin’s hands went to their blasters in unison.



“What is thish planet comin to, huh?” one hiccupped. “Shlummies walkin around the Upper City!”



“Shouldn’t you go back to the Lower Cities where you belong, shlummie?” another slurred at Orin.



“Well, this is rich,” Carth said, rolling his eyes to her. But she stood stock still, staring past them all, so tense he could see veins standing out on her forearms and neck. Was she... frightened? Of these drunken idiots who’d probably never even seen a fight?



“Yeah, like he said,” the third sneered, poking Orin hard enough that she swayed backwards, still staring ahead, unmoving, “these shtreets are for the Upper City citizens! You better get out of our way if you know what’s good for you!”



They seemed to be waiting for Orin to say something. Carth was slowly drawing his blaster when her head turned to the third. “You’d better think twice about what you’re doing,” she said hollowly, but Carth felt like he’d been plunged into ice water, his lungs refusing to expand. “This might be more than you can handle.” The feeling drifted away as she stopped speaking, but the drunken men edged backwards, wide-eyed.



“Uh... c’mon, fellas. This shlummie ain’t worth the bother.”



“Maybe next time, shlummie.”



They stumbled off, and Orin very visibly relaxed. Carth stepped closer, but didn’t dare touch her. He was suddenly remembering the previous times he’d startled her, and the injuries he’d incurred. “Are you alright?” She didn’t respond. “What happened to you?”



She took a shallow breath. “I told them to leave.”



Carth shook his head, moving so they faced each other.



“Before that. What happened that made you so scared?”



Orin blanched and looked away. “No.”



She took a deep breath this time, straightened the rucksack on her back, and walked off before Carth could offer a rebuttal.