Chapter 4.
Latest update on January 6th, 2015..
Up to date, cleaned up and ready to be finished! Hope you enjoy as we get into bits of the story many of us are intimately familiar with. I don't know about you guys, but I was SO ANXIOUS when I finally hit Taris, I wanted to have Torian as my companion already! X_X I even started giving him gifts before he was officially part of my crew, he was at like 300 or 500 by the end of Taris… Oh yea, I was such a sugar momma to my Torian! HAH! But it was a little sad, because I went through his romance almost in one shot… Sigh, in hindsight that was not such a good idea. As always, cheers and enjoy!
Torian woke with a start as if someone was running their fingertips down his spine. Goosebumps decorated his entire back just as dew decorated the leaves in the wee morning hours on Taris. He looked around to see what had woken him, but nothing was amiss. He was still strapped onto the branch of a thick, old tree around a Republic factory. He had managed to narrow down the sector the traitor called home in his first week, which was good because planetary wide travel had just about gutted his meagre resources. He had spent weeks since then building up a route, becoming familiar with the terrain, discovering rakghouls and what got them to leave him alone.
Now, he had always considered that he had a good tolerance for smells. He had bathed in a collection of unpleasant odours before, but the concoction that kept the rakghouls at bay was strong enough that it surprised a gag even out of him. After three weeks of the regimen, it no longer bothered him, but he feared he may have dulled his sense of smell permanently. He pulled left-overs from his back pack and began nibbling on the greasy, cold meat. A hundred times better than the ration packs he had gotten from Clan Ordo. Torian kept his ears peeled as he ate, the sounds of birds and other life forms awakening began to fill the air.
Soon after his breakfast he untied himself from his sleeping spot and once he was packed, got down and commenced the day's work. He would start by checking his perimeter, he never stayed in the same spot; it was not safe when hunting prey like this traitor. He was cunning, he had a very wide route and it had taken him the better part of a month just to discover it; he was a master at scavenging without ever taking so much that it was missed. Torian was also convinced the man was still in decent shape because it would take stamina to cover that kind of a perimeter regularly without making tracks, which meant he went through the effort of never taking the same route twice.
If Torian were less of a hunter he may never have discovered the subtle signs, but Torian lived and breathed for the next hunt, he knew all the tricks of the trade, and the traitor had taught him a few new ones. Once he was sure that his place had not been invaded during his hours of rest, Torian set out to find traces of the traitor. He had managed to get close, he could feel it, just a few short clicks and he would know where the traitor slept, where he was vulnerable. Torian wondered how the Clan on Taris was doing. He would still go by the factory daily to harass the Republic troops there, but he had been less then dutiful about the mission there. He just could not focus on it when his Clan's honour was just inches away from being cleansed.
He discovered a new route used by the traitor, by the look of things it was recent, but it would be hours before he could follow it back to its origins. He opted to return to sniping the Republic troops first, keep those spineless dogs in their cage. They tended to hide in there after a couple of hours of harassment. He marked the location of this new route in his mind, committing it to memory and then went along his way to his favourite sniping location for a bit of target practise. Hours tended to disappear when he was engaged like this, before he knew it time had flown by and it was near noon. Hunger never pulled him out of concentration, he was used to going without food for days at a time, but someone moving around in the levels below did stir him. He moved about as if he had pads rather than boots on, he favoured the knife, but if troops had managed to locate him, or worse, the traitor was here, then he would not take his chances. A hand blaster rested in his right hand as he scouted about.
She was here.
He stared at the back of her head for a moment, his breath caught as his gut twisted in an unfamiliar way. She had some Devaronian with her, but Torian could not be bothered to note much aside for the broken horn on the left and the large sniper rifle on his back. Her hair was still a complete mess as she sliced the console in front, looking for clues, he wished he could see her face. He approached cautiously, blaster raised at head level, she was dangerous and he didn't know which side she was on today, he treated her as the threat she was. The Devaronian kept an eye out and fidgeted. Torian approached the party.
"I don't like th—yup, definitely don't like this. "
He levelled the blaster at her head, he had no intention of shooting her if he could avoid it, but he had to be sure before he let his guard down. She glanced at her companion but never back, as if unpreoccupied by the fact that someone was holding a blaster to her head, her body language was the example of relaxation. He envied her that.
"Thought you'd be harder to get the drop on."
It was not a question, not really, but his voice inflected it as such, his surprise was genuine. She perked up at the sound of his voice, turning her head ever so slowly so that she could confirm who he was with her peripheral visions. The eyeliner made her eyes look like those of a predatory bird's, her eyes looking paler and her face looking gaunter because of it. Torian did not shoot at the careful motion, so she graced him with a crooked smile. Her shoulders dipped to her right as she slowly turned to face him. His instinct for him to shoot engaged, muscles in his hands tensing while his brain overrode the muscle memory, the desire to see her eyes more powerful than years of training. She faced him, those eyes fluttering at him, her face angled so as to look up at him, his gut twisted again.
"I was just eager to see you again after Dromund Kaas."
His jaw slackened, lips parting a little as he exhaled; she remembered him?
"You what-", he began, lowering his arm, had she come looking for him?!
Before he even had the chance to react to her statement with more than the slight change of the colour of his cheeks she grabbed his blaster arm and in one fluid motion flipped him on his back and disarmed him. He landed hard and cried out in surprise, he was not proud of that, or when he reacted to her stomping him on the chest to hold him down. Torian was now staring at the barrel of his own blaster. Wow, he was such an or'dinii(1)! His cheeks finished their blush but instead of it being because of pleasure it was due to shame. He looked up at her anyway, his eyes meeting hers.
Yea, it was still worth it.
For an instant, he was sure she returned his look of appreciation.
"Men…Time to tell me what you're doing out here."
She frowned at him, she put a lot of derision in the initial word. Nope, she had not returned his look at all.
"Ow… I deserved that."
Torian moved to stand and she allowed him. The Devaronian looked from one to the other and then back to the Champion.
"You must like him. If I tried that, I'd be wearing my face on the back of the wall."
Torian did not let his hopes be moved by Raidre's companion's comment. He shook his head as he looked at her, he had a couple of inches on her, so from this close he had to look down to meet her eyes.
"You're not here for me. Who then?"
Hesitation on her part, which was his first clue. "You won't like the answer to that."
Torian's heart hurt from beating so hard, he had never been more excited about anything before, this was far better than he could have hoped for. He forced himself to be calm when he spoke however. Anger lacing itself into his voice as it always did when he spoke about the sad excuse of a father he had been cursed with.
"The traitor…"
He inhaled deeply, she waited in silence, gauging his response.
"I'm looking too, but not for a reunion. To reclaim my clan's honour."
She blinked at that once, it was not the answer she had expected, other than that, she made no other sign of surprise or appreciation. Instead, she just nodded.
"We'll restore your honour, Torian. You've got my word."
His guts did that weird twisting again and emotions he had no use for began trying to invade his mind, consume space they had no right for, with a practised mental nudge they were gone before they had the chance to be identified, he did allow his gratitude to linger however.
"Thanks."
It was barely adequate, but it was the best he would do, more and he might begin to blabber and he wouldn't subject her to it or that Devaronian.
"I promise you I know where to find him. I already know where to start."
She cocked a hip and laid a hand on it, intent, listening. The Devaronian crossed his arms and frowned, unimpressed and doubtful; was that hint of jealousy?
"Someone's erected dew collectors, beast traps, around an old transport station. Have to be the traitor's."
She frowned at that. "That junk could belong to anybody."
The Devaronian nodded in approval, Torian tried his best not to let it get to him.
"Even scavengers can bring in supplies. They're Jicoln's."
He remembered that abandoned transport station, he had taken a look inside and had found evidence of recent activity. But he had not been able to find his way to the traitor's base of operation from there, which is why he had been scouting around that area for weeks, looking for fresh trails. However he did not want to lead her around the wilderness looking for a mirage when she might find something he had missed.
"I've only found one entrance into the station. It's thick with rakghouls. Risky."
He did his best not to smile as he realised they would have to use his rakghoul repellent, especially when he thought of the Devaronian smearing himself with it. The Devaronian had a possessive look in his eyes when he eyed Raidre, but he was smart enough to keep it from her. Torian was not fooled.
"Got a way to throw off rakghouls, but I'll need help. Materials."
She nodded, unfazed. "That shouldn't be a problem."
He nodded in approval, enjoying her lack of distaste at getting dirty. "Fresh rakghoul bodily fluids-both blood and waste-and a decomposing rakghoul. Least a week old." He handed her his data pad. "Check these waypoints. We'll rendezvous at the transport station."
Nothing, not even the slightest hint of distaste at his 'grocery' list for her. What was she made of? She took the pad and pulled out her own to copy the info onto it. Once the task was completed she handed the pad back to him and nodded. Without another word, she turned as was gone.
NOTES:
1 According to the word or'dinii means moron or fool.