KotOR I: Orin Dakall

Two apartments later, he still hadn’t spoken, and Orin was getting annoyed at the judgment rolling off him and his constant glaring at the back of her head.



“Carth,” she said, picking the lock on a metal safe box.



“What’s on your mind, Dakall?” he asked in monotone.



“Tell me some more about you.”



“Me?” he asked, a bit stunned, and forgetting his distance. “Well... I’ve been a star-pilot for the Republic for years. I’ve seen more than my share of wars. I fought in the Mandalorian Wars before all this started.”



He said it almost fondly, like an old soldier remembering the good times. Then Orin realized he must be 10 years older than her. During the wars she was still making a name for herself on Nar Shaddaa.



“But with all that,” he said, his voice now hard and spitting the words, “I’ve never experienced anything like the slaughter these Sith animals can unleash. Not even the Mandalorians were that senseless.” He paused, actually moving so she could see him, and leaned on the wall.



“My home world was one of the first planets to fall to Malak’s fleet,” he said quietly. “The Sith bombed it into submission, and there wasn’t a damn thing our Republic forces could do to stop them!”



His voice had grown to a near shout, and Orin looked up, alarmed. “Calm down. I was just asking.”



“You’re the one who wanted to know more about me,” he said, slamming his fist into the wall behind him, “Well this is it, this is what I am.” Bitterness covered his face. “I’m just a soldier; I go where the fleet Admirals tell me to. I follow my orders and I do my duty. It just...” He sighed. “Doesn’t seem right that doing that means I failed them! I didn’t!”



“Hey, why are you getting so mad at me?” she asked, putting the still woefully light rucksack on and standing. “It’s not like this was my fault!”



Carth seemed to deflate a bit. “I know that. I’m not angry at you, don’t think that.” He sighed again. “I must not be making much sense. You probably mean well with your questions. I’m just not accustomed to talking about my past very much. At all, actually. I’m more used to taking action... keeping my mind focused on the business at hand.”



Orin took the hint. Besides, the question had done its job; Carth wasn’t nearly so hostile toward her, and even though they moved on in silence, the tension had lessened.



-----



“Well, hello there! I see from your exotic appearance--” Carth snorted. “--that you are not from Taris originally. Allow me to introduce myself - my name is Jergan.”



“What do you want, Jergan?” Orin asked testily. She was scoping the cantina for an off-duty Sith, but this idiot had been following them since they entered, making conversation with anyone impossible, and his grating voice was incredibly distracting.



“What do you think of our local music? The band is quite good, wouldn’t you agree? They’re on the verge of galactic stardom, you know.”



They weren’t bad, actually. She’d heard far worse. But she knew this scam better than Jergan.



“Don’t much care for them.” She scanned the bar. Nothing promising there. Just nobles.



He looked abashed, but tilted up his chin. “They are something of an acquired taste. But mark my words, they’ll be famous soon enough. They were about to go on tour before this Sith quarantine stranded them here.” Orin looped back into a more private dining area, making eye contact with Carth and nodding to blond girl at a table. Jergan kept right with her, still babbling.



“Would you like to meet them after the show? Maybe have a brief brush with fame before they become intergalactic superstars? I can arrange it, you know.”



He was seriously getting on her nerves now, and his barely concealed flirtations were making her nauseous. If she were Bastila, Carth wouldn’t’ve let the seedy conman near her.



“I’ll pass,” she growled, but Jergan wouldn’t give up.



“Are you certain? This is a once in a lifetime opportunity - meet the legends before they were famous. All it will cost you is a small handful of credits.” He leaned toward her confidentially, and she leaned back, afraid his personality was infectious. “I have a standing arrangement with one of the Rodian bodyguards backstage,” he said in a low murmur. “For the small sum of 20 credits he’ll let me set up a meeting with you and the band.”



Orin rolled her eyes and pushed him back out of her personal space. “Find a better scam or a stupider target.”



“You sting me with your words!” And yet, Orin could already see him glancing around for another sucker. “I see you’re not interested. That’s too bad. They really are charming fellows.” He spotted a girl watching the band intently and moved toward her. “Very well then, I hope you enjoy the music. If you change your mind come speak with me again.”



“Hmph. That’d take brain damage,” she muttered. It was then that she noticed Carth laughing silently. He stopped once he saw her. Or tried to. Another snort and a chuckle made it out before Orin swept toward the girl at the table, head high and ignoring the idiot following her.



“Where did you get those clothes - a trash compactor in the Lower City? And where are those drinks we ordered?” the girl snapped.



Orin bit back a retort which included that her clothes were actually stolen off the still-smoking corpse of a Sith Trooper, and said stiffly, “Sorry, I’m not your waiter.”



Carth edged toward her. “Careful what you say,” he whispered, “I get the feeling this spoiled brat could cause us more trouble than she’s worth.”



Orin gave him a scathing look that quite clearly said ‘Did you miss the ingratiating manner in which I just behaved, you ass?’ The girl rolled her eyes and examined her nails.



“Why is the help here so incompetent? One word from Daddy and I could get you fired!”



I’d like to have a word with your daddy... she thought, but put on a servile expression and said, “I’m sorry, don’t get upset. I’ll go get that drink.”



The girl smirked. “That’s better! Now hurry up with our order!”



At that moment, her waiter appeared, to Orin’s disappointment. “Here are your drinks, Miss Lavin. I apologize for the delay.”



“I was hoping to head him off and keep him from delivering any at all,” she muttered to Carth. She glanced back over her shoulder as they headed toward the main bar. “I hope he spat in it.”



Carth shook his head. “That was your idea of a Sith?”



“Well, she had the perfect demeanor,” she grumbled. “But I’m sure Daddy already paid someone to sign up for her.”