Chapter 38
Hanger Duty

When Vader rolled out of bed in the morning he felt better than he had in a long time. He was still a bit irked that Obi-Wan refused to share the identity of the thing responsible for torturing him, but he would be patient. Eventually, one way or another, he would find out…

Forcing his mind off that subject, Vader went through the usual morning routine. He took a nice long shower, taking the time to thoroughly enjoy the hot water. Then he brushed his teeth, shaved, and messed with his hair. As he tied off his braid, he noted that his hair was in need of a trim.

With the long stretches of deployment during the war and the short breaks in-between, it was difficult to keep his hair properly trimmed. Some male Padawans (ones with hair) had taken advantage of this to let their hair grow out beyond the length that was preferred. Vader wasn't one of those, keeping his hair short more out of habit than anything else. He was also vaguely bothered by the fact that when his hair got a bit long, it had a tendency to curl, which really made no sense. His hair had always been straight before.

Now all clean and ready to get on with the day, he threw on his robes, fastened his belt, and pulled on his boots. He slipped out of the refresher, expecting to smell the aroma of freshly brewed tea, but was disappointed. For a moment, he'd forgotten that Obi-Wan was in the Healer's wing laid up for Force-knew how long. Sighing, Vader slunk into the apartment's tiny kitchen to make himself tea. Alone.

But not forever, he reminded himself. Soon they'll let Obi-Wan out of there and then he'll be back to makin' tea for the two of us. He set a pot of water to boil and sifted through the different tea blends that his Master kept stocked. I've just got to be patient. I can do that. No problem.

The apartment door chimed, distracting Vader from staring at the slowly heating teapot. Annoyed, but slightly curious to see who was at his door so early, he left the miniscule kitchen to answer the door. When he reached the door and keyed it open he saw…

…Master Windu standing there. Glaring. As usual.

Vader blinked. "Uh, good morning Master Windu."

"Good morning," Master Windu replied after a heavy pause. "Isn't there something that you are supposed to be doing right now?"

"Um…" Vader wracked his brains for the proper answer to that, but didn't come up with much.

"I assigned you to the Temple hanger for a week, remember?" Master Windu prompted.

"Oh yeah," Vader cringed, "forgot about that."

"The hanger staff started work almost an hour ago, and Master Vitz is wondering where that extra hand I promised him is." Master Windu added.

Aw crud, they must keep the same hours as Watto, Vader cringed again. "Am I allowed breakfast, or do I have to skip it this morning?" He asked rather timidly.

"Make it quick, Master Vitz is waiting on you." The dark-skinned Master warned, then stalked off to do whatever it was that he did all day.

When the Master had vanished down the hall, Vader slumped a bit and ran his cold mechanical hand over his face. So much for a good morning, he sighed to himself. Briefly, his eyes grew distant as he focused, and with a slight twitch of his fingers, the heat on the stove cut off. There was no sense in leaving the pot of water to boil away since it seemed he had no time for tea. And besides, it was a fire hazard to leave a stove running unattended.

With that taken care of, Vader slipped out of the apartment and half-sprinted down the hallway towards the cafeteria. If he hurried, he could make it there before there was a long line and snag a few muffins or something. That would have to do until he was granted a lunch break. If he was granted a lunch break…

Well, at least I got assigned to the hangers and not the kitchens…

Vader darted around the scurrying techs and mechanics that populated the Temple hanger. Some of the workers here were Jedi with a side-talent for mechanical things. But most were 'rejects', those with enough Force-potential to be taken in by the Order yet, for one reason or another, been passed over for apprenticeship and washed out of the training program. Instead of being shipped off to some distant world like Bandomeer to be a farmer, they were kept here and trained to service the spaceships of the Jedi Order.

A few more ducks and weaves brought him to one particular landing pad. There the Jedi Master in charge of the hanger, Grangg Vitz, crouched next to a disemboweled Jedi Starfighter. Vader skidded to a halt at what was hopefully a respectful distance and waited to be acknowledged.

Jedi Master Grangg Vitz was more intimidating than most of his brother Jedi. He was a Shistavanen Wolfman. The species by itself was intimidating enough, but being a Jedi on top of that was…impressive.

After a small eternity, the wolfish Jedi Master finally decided to pause and turn around to acknowledge Vader's existence. He regarded the 'Padawan' with the cold, calculating eyes of a highly evolved predator before wrinkling his muzzle in a snort. Master Vitz then turned back to what he'd been doing. The whole thing was carefully crafted to shame Vader for his tardiness, and though it was completely unnecessary since he was already embarrassed about it, it worked quite well.

"You are the Padawan Master Windu promised me for the week?" Master Vitz growled.

"Yes Master Vitz." Vader replied.

"You are late." Master Vitz remarked. "Very late."

"My apologies, Master Vitz. It will not happen again." Vader assured the alien Master.

"It had better not," Master Vitz rumbled. "Now get down to the ground floor and assist the techs."

"Yes Master Vitz." Vader bowed, even though the furry canine humanoid couldn't see him, and hurriedly departed.

So I'm to be an errand boy for the week, he sighed. But he cheered up a bit as he descended to the lowest hanger level. Could be worse. He could've told me to scrub the hanger floor with a toothbrush…

It took a little while for Obi-Wan to remember where he was. When he first woke up, he thought he was still in Ventress' clutches. But then he realized that couldn't be true. He was laying in a soft bed in a white softly lit room. Not a pitch black stone cell. He was safe and sound in the Jedi Temple's Healer wing and he was free.

Sighing faintly in relief, he sunk deeper into the mattress of the hospital cot and glanced around through half-open eyes. The room he'd been assigned was utterly unremarkable. It was a stark, sterile white, uninterrupted by any pictures or windows. There were a few chairs for any visitors that might come see him pushed up against the wall and a tiny nightstand table to one side of his bed. Aside from that, there was no other furniture or decoration of any kind.

For the moment he was alone. There were no medical droids present or Healers. And he had no visitors to sit in the chairs. Not even Vader.

Obi-Wan was disappointed. Bant had promised to spread the word of his presence in the Healer wing to his old friends, but he supposed they must all be busy. Vader, after that tearful reunion, he expected to be present, and Obi-Wan was sad to see that the young man wasn't around.

Seeing no reason to remain awake, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and set about falling back to sleep. But just then the door to his room hissed open. Opening his eyes again, Obi-Wan saw the dark imposing figure of Jedi Master Mace Windu.

"Good morning Obi-Wan," Master Windu greeted, though he seemed distantly annoyed by something.

"Good morning Mace," Obi-Wan replied hoarsely, "is there something I can do for you?"

"No," Mace sighed, "I'm afraid you won't be doing much for anyone for a while. I just stopped by to see how you were doing and inform you that your 'Padawan' will be busy for the rest of the week."

"Oh?" Obi-Wan blinked. "Busy with what?"

"I don't suppose he told you that when he retrieved you from Riflor he abandoned his post in Varonat?" Mace asked though his tone really didn't make it a question.

"No," Obi-Wan frowned.

"Well, that is exactly what he did. He suddenly left giving Master Ki-Adi-Mundi no explanation or destination." Mace informed him. "So he has been assigned to work in the hanger for the week as punishment."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and sighed wearily. "I'll talk with him about that the next time I see him." He promised.

"I already tried to lecture him about it," Mace admitted, "but I really don't think he was listening seeing as he forgot I'd assigned him hanger duty this morning."

"Oh dear," Obi-Wan mumbled.

"Enough about Vader," Mace grumbled, changing the subject. "How are you feeling?"

"A little better," Obi-Wan replied.

"Good," Mace nodded, "glad to hear that. Hopefully you'll be as good as new soon."

Obi-Wan nodded slightly. "I hope so."

"Well, I have to get going," Mace sighed, heading for the door.

"May the Force be with you," Obi-Wan replied reflexively.

"And may the Force be with you," Mace called back as he vanished out into the hall.

Alone again, Obi-Wan settled in for a long, boring day. To pass the time, he prepared to spend it meditating in a light healing trance. As he ran through the familiar exercises, he felt some pity for his poor Padawan.

Poor Vader. The hanger staff will run him ragged by lunchtime…

By the time lunch rolled around, Vader was starving. He scuttled back to his apartment to through together a few sandwiches to take back with him to the hanger. With easily portable sandwiches, he could take advantage of his break time to wander the hanger at his leisure without having to worry about being called to fetch this or help carry that.

Some of the techs were surprised at his resilience. He was sure that Master Vitz had briefed all the staff on this level to run him into the ground and he supposed that's what they were trying to do. What they didn't know was that this was easy for him. He was used to scrambling around, struggling to finish the work set before him for the day. In fact this was easier; he didn't have to worry about getting cracked over the head or hand with Watto's cane for moving too slowly or making a mistake.

The lowest level of the Temple hanger was not all that exciting. Only vehicles in dire need of a complete refit were moved down here. It was mainly where parts and tools were stored and repairs to complex parts were done. But the upper levels, they were much more interesting.

The other levels consisted of various platforms, some of which moved. And on each platform was at least one vehicle of some kind, usually a Jedi Starfighter. But there were other starships there too, some small and some large.

Vader headed for the upper levels, specifically for his assigned Starfighter. Originally he hadn't been trusted with one. If he had to go on a mission with Obi-Wan that necessitated the use of a Starfighter, he'd ride along in the cramped emergency jump seat behind Obi-Wan. But with the outbreak of the war they'd had little choice but to grant him the use of one.

His fighter was, outwardly, just like Obi-Wan's except for one difference. Where Obi-Wan's was trimmed in red, his was trimmed with green. And of course the attached Astromech was different. Instead of the red R4-P17, he had a green R4-P44. To keep it distinct from Obi-Wan's 'Arfour', he called it 'Peefour' (since 'Peeforty-four' was too long and complicated) and sometimes shortened even that to 'Petey'.

"Hey Petey!" He greeted the dozing little droid.

The green Astromech squeaked and its eye lit up as it became active. It warbled something at him and Vader leaned his head into the cockpit to read the translation screen. HELLO THERE! ARE WE GOING OUT AGAIN TODAY?

"No, we're not going out today," Vader sighed. "I'm on hanger duty for the week."

OH. Peefour actually sounded rather let-down. THAT'S TOO BAD.

"Not really," Vader shrugged, pausing to take a bite out of his second sandwich. "I like working with machines and things. If Master Windu meant this assignment to be unpleasant, he made a mistake."

WELL, chirped Peefour, THAT'S GREAT THEN!

"Yeah," Vader chuckled a little and finished his sandwich.

Just as he was dusting the last crumbs off the edge of his cloak, a rushing pair of mechanics caught his eye. He glanced after them curiously, wondering what had them so excited. They reminded him of the faint whispers he'd half-caught all morning. Something special, it seemed, was going to happen today.

"Well Petey, I'll be around." Vader patted the green Astromech's dome in farewell as he wandered off to see what had gotten everyone so excited.

He found out two levels up and one platform over. It sat there all shiny and new. And it was absolutely beautiful.

The current version of the Jedi Starfighter, the Delta-7, was a sleek wedge of death. Speedy, nimble, and all but impractical for anyone who wasn't a Jedi. It sacrificed a great deal of defensive power and shielding for its speed, not to mention its lack of an internal hyperdrive. It was also so cramped that the Astromech assigned to it had to be partly disassembled and permanently wired to the ship to fit. The Delta-7 wasn't perfect, but it served its purpose well enough.

But that didn't stop the company that manufactured the Jedi Starfighter from trying to improve the design. Ever since the start of the war, the research and development teams worked hard studying combat data from the Delta-7, finding out what worked and what didn't. And then they made something new.

The new model of Jedi Starfighter, the much rumored Eta-2, was everything he'd heard it might be and more. The wedge-shaped design was little more than a memory. The cockpit was transformed into a spherical pod with a much greater field of vision. The pod was nestled between a pair of broad, flat, prong-like wings, one of which had an empty socket for an Astromech droid. It wasn't as graceful-looking as the Delta-7, but it looked ten times fiercer.

Vader could nothing but stare at it. The prototype Eta-2 was so new it hadn't even been painted yet. But even just plain durasteel gray looked fine on the thing. If he hadn't been so frozen with awe, he would've wandered over to touch it, maybe even start looking through it.

He wasn't the only one staring. Every tech, mechanic, Padawan, Knight, and even some Masters, hovered around the edges of the thing, admiring it. If they had the time or excuse, they were here to see the future of the Jedi Starfighter.

If it was up to him, Vader would've spent all day drooling over the marvelous new machine. But, of course, it wasn't up to him, and the lunch break was swiftly drawing to a close. So, with great effort, he forced himself to turn away and return to the bowels of the Temple hanger.

Though for the rest of the day, no matter what he was doing, his mind buzzed with one singular thought.

I want to fly it!