Chapter 43
Promotion

Vader rocked back on his heels and snapped closed an access panel on the underside of his shiny new Eta-2. He'd already taken it on a few short hops around the Coruscant System, just to get a feel for how it handled, and what he'd experienced so far had left him impressed. But it still suffered at least one flaw in common with the older Delta-7.

Disappointingly there was no internal hyperdrive. Instead, just like the Delta-7, it depended on a booster ring to achieve lightspeed. The rings designed for the Eta-2 were larger and had greater speed and longer range, but it was still annoying to have to dock with one to make a hyperspace jump. And there was always the risk that the ring could be destroyed with the fighter was on deployment, possibly stranding it in whatever system it was in at the time.

He had a plan to fix that though. Ever since he discovered the Eta-2's deficiency he'd had his eye out for a small hyperdrive unit. The instant he found a suitable one, he'd install it into his fighter and be free of the stupid booster rings and all the hassle associated with them.

And there was one other specific thing he wanted to do to modify his Starfighter. He wanted to give it a paint job. At the moment it was already painted the basic default of red and white. But he was thinking of changing it to yellow and white, similar to the color scheme of his old pod-racer. As soon as he found the proper paint and the time to do it, he'd do it.

But until then, he'd just tinker around with his new toy, make minor adjustments and such. It was the best way he knew to pass the time until he and Obi-Wan were shipped out to some front to do battle. Vader rubbed his hands free of grease before rising and climbing up towards the cockpit.

"Okay Artoo, run that diagnostic again." Vader ordered, peering down at the cockpit's displays.

ON IT! The blue trimmed Astromech squealed delightedly. Vader couldn't help but grin at the droid's seemingly endless enthusiasm.

Unfortunately, his old droid, R4-P44, remained firmly bolted into his old Delta-7. The techs and mechanics of the Temple's hanger were busy enough as it was fixing and servicing the small fleet of Jedi vehicles. They didn't have time to unhook his old partner and reattach his lower half so that Vader could use him in the new Eta-2.

Since he was deprived of his old droid, it had looked like he'd be going the same route as his Master. Obi-Wan's old droid friend, R4-P17, was also trapped in the Master's old Delta-7. So he was granted a temporary replacement until Arfour could be freed up, a brassy-domed droid called R4-G9 (which was immediately shortened to 'Geenine'). And though the arrangement was meant to be temporary, Obi-Wan had gone so far as to have Arfour's flight data copied into Geenine so, despite being parted from his old droid, he still wouldn't have to fly his fighter himself unless he got sucked into a battle.

But fate intervened in Vader's case. Instead of getting stuck with a strange droid that he'd have to get used to, the Force decided to smile on him. He got to use R2-D2, Padmé's spunky blue Astrodroid, for an indefinite period.

The subject had come up innocently in conversation when Vader had swung by Padmé's apartment for a visit a week ago. He'd complained about the inconvenience the whole mess with the droids was, and she'd come up with a solution. She offered to lend him Artoo for as long as he needed the old droid.

Artoo was bored just hanging around the apartment with her, she claimed. He liked action and adventure. The droid would be much happier out seeing the galaxy with Vader, fighting in the war. And besides, that way Artoo could help look after Vader, make sure nothing bad happened to him.

Vader had gladly accepted the loan of the droid. Artoo was awesome! Unique among all the droids he'd ever dealt with, he loved the thing to death. Being allowed to use and work with the Astromech was probably the greatest thing Padmé could do for him. And he thought she knew it too.

ALL DONE! Artoo chirped, pulling Vader out of his little reverie.

"Hmm," Vader hummed, studying the read-outs with a critical eye. "Better, definitely better," he mused thoughtfully. "But I think we can tweak the tolerances just a little bit more. Be right back."

He hopped down from the Starfighter's wing to get back at the access panel, barely hearing Artoo's whistle of confirmation. As he burrowed back into the guts of his ship, he paused long enough to consult a nearby chronometer. It was starting to get late and Obi-Wan still hadn't gotten around to contacting him.

Early that morning his Master had been summoned before the Jedi Council. Alone. So to entertain himself and keep busy while he waited for Obi-Wan to be released, Vader had come down the hanger to tinker.

Now it was nearly dinnertime and still no Obi-Wan. It was enough to make Vader worry a little. What the heck were they talking about that was taking so long?

It's probably about me, Vader sighed. This war's making them more and more paranoid and they're losing their patience with my secretive nature. Force this sucks…

Vader chewed his lip in concentration as he delicately probed and adjusted various components inside the Starfighter. As he worked, his hands quickly got dirty again. But he didn't worry much about it as his focus was solely on what he was doing. When he felt he had it tuned just right, he returned to the cockpit and had Artoo run the scan again.

It had nearly been a month since Obi-Wan had been released from the Healers' care. His Master was doing much better now. His strength had returned and he was back to almost perfect condition. Vader was certain they'd be shipped out again any day now. And he wanted to get his Starfighter to be ready for action.

The sound of a throat being cleared interrupted him before he could see the results. Vader turned to see Siri Tachi, Obi-Wan's old friend and Ferus Olin's Master, standing nearby. She didn't look very happy.

"Can I help you Master Tachi?" Vader asked politely.

"You wouldn't happen to know where Obi-Wan is, would you?" She asked with a frown.

"Last I saw him, he was heading off to meet with the Jedi Council." Vader shrugged. "I haven't seen him since."

Her frown deepened. "Really?"

"Yeah," Vader nodded. "Why are you looking for him? If you don't mind my asking."

"He promised to work-out with me," she all but pouted. "But he didn't show, and he didn't give any reason why. He's usually more reliable than this."

Vader shrugged helplessly, wiping the fresh grease from his hands on a rag. Siri looked at him thoughtfully, and then smiled an almost wicked smile. Vader wasn't sure he liked that smile.

"Are you busy Padawan Vader?" She asked curiously.

"No," he replied warily.

"Good, come with me." She commanded. "If I can't get Obi-Wan to spend time with me, I'll just have to steal you from him."

Gulping anxiously, Vader waved a hurried farewell to Artoo and scampered after the rapidly moving Jedi Knight. He felt a vague sort of dread concerning Knight Tachi's statement, but there was nothing he could do about it. What have I gotten into now?

Less than an hour later, Vader found himself locked in a lightsaber duel with Ferus Olin. It seemed Siri Tachi's plan was to use him as a sparring partner for her own Padawan. And she appeared dead set on working to both of them until they dropped.

Panting, Vader and Ferus drew away from each other, both sizing up their opponent. Vader felt overheated and absolutely disgusting as his sweat-soaked tunics stuck uncomfortably to his skin. Ferus appeared to be suffering similarly though he struggled to keep it from being obvious.

"Alright boys," Siri smiled, "five minute break." And then she wandered off, leaving them to relax briefly.

Vader slumped in relief and snapped his sapphire blade off. Irritated by the damp nasty feel of his tunics, he started to peel them off to escape. Ferus switched off his own emerald saber and started at Vader like he was insane.

"What are you doing?" Ferus blinked.

"I don't know about you, but I can't stand sweaty shirts, so I'm taking them off." Vader snorted.

"But…" Ferus sputtered. Then he seemed to think about it before giving in and doing the same.

Vader sighed after he managed to claw his way out of his sticky gray under-tunic. Now with his skin exposed to the open air, he felt much cooler and comfortable. Kicking his discarded tunics off the sparring mat, he spun his saber hilt around in his left hand as he prepared to go at it again.

Ferus froze and stared at Vader. Specifically, at the join between the stump of Vader's right arm and his gaudy golden skeletal prosthetic and the thick scar just under the left edge of his ribcage. Vader scowled back at his former lab partner, shifting uncomfortably.

"Would you stop the staring please?" Vader growled.

"I always meant to ask what happened to your hand." Siri commented, returning with some water for them.

"It got chopped off," Vader shrugged, gratefully taking the offered water.

"But how? And when?" Siri frowned.

"Count Dooku took offense to me on Geonosis." Vader muttered vaguely, taking a gulp of cool water.

"You fought with Count Dooku?" Ferus goggled.

"You survived fighting with Count Dooku?" Siri asked disbelievingly.

"Yeah," Vader squirmed anxiously. "Can we get back to what we were doing now?"

"Well, since you're so eager…" Siri smirked. "Freestyle, go!"

Ferus quickly took one last gulp of water and reactivated his green blade. Vader was a half a second ahead of him, bringing his sapphire lightsaber around in a low strike that Ferus couldn't quite block. The blue beam of coherent light managed a glancing blow to the other Padawan's shin. Hissing in shocked and pained surprise at the touch of the low-intensity blade, Ferus struck back and the spar picked up again.

Originally, Knight Tachi had set the two of them on paired katas, choreographed fights where, if they are performed correctly, hold no risk of injury for either participant. But after setting them through a couple of those, she decided to spice things up. She set them on freestyle sparring, where the entire thing is improvised and the outcome is uncertain.

The two of them danced over the mat. Sometimes Vader held the upper hand, sometimes it was Ferus. Neither held the advantage for very long though and the duel dragged on. Then, just as Vader swore his muscles and lungs were sobbing for mercy, he found the opening he needed. With a tricky twist of the wrist, he disarmed Ferus and then brought his blade to the side of the other Padawan's neck, freezing him in place.

"I concede," Ferus muttered unhappily, gasping for breath.

Satisfied, Vader switched off his weapon and bowed to his opponent. I'm back in business! He crowed to himself. And it was true, he was back up to his old level of proficiency after his sudden drop after returning from Jabiim. If he were to face the odd A'Sharad Hett now, the Tusken wannabe would be the one on the losing end.

But as he finished his bow, he realized that their audience had expanded somewhat. Instead of just Knight Tachi observing them, there was now a handful of other Padawans watching. Vader recognized A'Sharad Hett, which meant that he and Master Mundi had finally returned from Varonat, and Barris Offee, Luminara Unduli's Padawan who he had met on Ansion. But the other two were strangers to him. He'd seen them before in his classes, he just didn't know their names.

"Most impressive," A'Sharad commented in his mask-muffled voice.

"Thanks," Vader panted, working to catch his breath.

"How come you never fought like that when you sparred with me?" A'Sharad asked.

Vader grimaced, "I wasn't in the best state of mind to be doing much at the time."

"Oh, what was wrong?" One of the mystery Padawans, a Human girl with bright red hair, asked with innocent curiosity.

"I thought my Master had been killed," Vader grumbled, looking around for the towels so he could dry off a bit.

That seemed to shut them all up as he wandered over to a shelf holding little towels. As he wiped the excess sweat off he looked forward to the shower he'd have to take. A nice long hot shower sounded like heaven to him and his worn out muscles.

"What happened to your back?" Barris Offee demanded in her cool voice.

Vader stiffened for a second. First in confusion. And then in realization. Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap…

He'd forgotten about the scars on his back. Watto had never whipped him. But Gardulla's minions and Dooku had. As a small child, he'd assisted in Gardulla's kitchens and every time he'd broken a dish, the cook had whipped him with his belt. Dooku had used an electrified force-whip on a few occasions seemingly for no other reason than he felt like it. Those punishments hadn't left him with many scars, fewer deep ones, but enough for them to not be mistaken for anything else other than what they were.

And now everyone who was looking could see them because he'd forgotten and taken his tunics off. Cursing himself, he tossed the used towel into a bin and stalked over to collect his discarded sweaty tunics. He started to pull his loose dark brown outer tunic on so he could walk through the halls of the Jedi Temple without being overtly glared at, when a hand on his shoulder forced him to stop.

"What happened to your back?" It was Ferus this time who asked.

Vader roughly shook free of the hand and finished pulling on the over-tunic. "It's nothing." He growled.

"That's not 'nothing'," the other mystery Padawan, a silvery skinned male humanoid of some kind, protested quietly.

"It's nothing," Vader stiffly insisted, gathering up his things.

"That's a lie if I ever heard one." Knight Tachi declared.

Vader didn't even bother replying to her. He just took his things and strode out of the gym. On the way out he almost crashed into Obi-Wan, but he didn't stop, didn't say a word. He just threw up some shields, put a block on his end of the bond, and kept on walking. All he thought about was the nice hot shower waiting for him.

Obi-Wan blinked, startled, as Vader rushed by him, a dark cloud almost visible over his head. He stared after the young man striding down the hallway, puzzled. He tried to lightly probe the Padawan, but hit a prickly brick wall. Confused, he left Vader be in favor of entering the gym and finding out just what had set off his dark mood.

Over by one of the sparring mats was a collection of Padawans and his old friend Siri. They were all staring after where Vader had exited. None of them seemed to notice that he had arrived.

"So what did I miss?" Obi-Wan asked curiously, walking over to them.

The assembled group gave a guilty start. Siri was the first to regain her composure. "Did you know your Padawan has whip scars on his back?" She demanded.

Oh, so that's it, Obi-Wan sighed. "Yes, I am aware that he has whip scars." He ran a hand through his hair. "And I assume you tried to find out where he got them."

"Yes," Siri frowned. Her cool gaze commanded answers.

"And I also assume that he refused to answer your questions." When they didn't deny it, Obi-Wan continued. "Well then you exactly as much as I do about them then. He's had those scars since before he came into my company and I have yet to discover when he got them or who gave them to him."

"I don't understand," Siri folded her arms over her chest. "How could you not know? Isn't it listed in his records?"

"His records are incomplete." Obi-Wan hesitantly admitted.

Normally there were detailed records kept on each child admitted to the Jedi Temple for training. But Vader was 'admitted' at fifteen and his records, sparse as they were, were altered so that a casual glance wouldn't pick up on how odd they were. If anyone were to study them, trace down some of the information they contained, they would find a lot of speculation and even outright lies covering over a whole lot of nothing.

"Incomplete?" Siri sputtered incredulously. "How–"

"I can't say," Obi-Wan sighed, "and it's best not to ask any further. If he wishes to reveal anything, he will, and he will in his own time, not before."

Siri looked very unhappy, and in Obi-Wan's experience that meant trouble. "That doesn't explain anything Obi-Wan. How can his records be incomplete?"

"I can't say," Obi-Wan repeated, struggling not to cringe.

"You can't say?" Siri scowled. "What is this, some kind of conspiracy?"

Obi-Wan cringed as her raised voice started to attract attention from some others nearby in the gym. The five Padawans, including Siri's own, were distressed enough as it was at the idea that the Jedi Order was involved in any sort of conspiracy. This had to be stopped quickly.

"Walk with me," Obi-Wan invited, hoping to lead Siri to the relative privacy of his apartment.

Siri stiffened up defiantly. "No."

"Please Siri, you're being difficult." Obi-Wan pleaded.

"Your Padawan has unexplained scars, incomplete records, you won't say anything about why, and you're complaining about me 'being difficult'?" She all but snapped.

"Please Siri," Obi-Wan struggled not to whine. Jedi Masters did not whine. "Why don't we go speak to Master Yoda and see if he can't explain things better?" He suggested. Please say yes, please, please, please…

"Passing off responsibility to Master Yoda, eh?" Siri sniffed, but thankfully she decided to move.

"You can look at it that way." Obi-Wan sighed, gratefully leading her towards Master Yoda's apartment.

"Then I will," Siri replied coolly as they left the cluster of anxious Padawans behind.

Oh she's angry, Obi-Wan groaned. And my missing our little work-out date probably isn't helping. He sighed as Siri strode alongside him through the halls, a tense unhappy expression firmly affixed to her face. But really, how was I supposed to know that I was going to be appointed to the Jedi Council today?

Vader lay stretched out on the couch gazing at the vid-screen that hung on the wall through half-open eyes. His hair was still damp from his nice long shower and he'd changed into fresh, dry robes. Pod-racing was on, the Malastare 500.

The door chimed. He ignored it. The chime sounded again. He ignored it. But by the sixth or seventh ring, he was annoyed enough to get up and see just who the hell wanted to see him so badly.

Ferus was there. Vader shut the door and walked back to the couch. The door chimed again and again, but he refused to answer the door. Ferus could spend all day ringing his bell out there, he didn't care.

"Please open the door," Ferus called, his voiced muffled by the door.

"Go away," Vader shouted back, not even turning to face the door.

Instead of leaving, he rang the door chime again. Vader clenched his teeth and refused to move. But after another five rings or so, he was thoroughly sick of it. He stormed over to the door and viciously jabbed the 'open' button.

"What?" He snarled, glaring furiously.

"May I come in?" Ferus asked, his tone edged in nervousness.

Vader stared Ferus down for a few minutes. When he didn't back off he walked back to the couch, but left the door open. "Do what you want." He growled.

He came in and took a seat on the second couch. Vader ignored him, focusing instead on the pod-race. His visitor shifted anxiously, but for many long minutes failed to say anything. Then…

"My Master is rather upset." Ferus stated.

"Oh?" Vader grunted in disinterest.

"She tried to get answers out of your Master, but he wouldn't tell her anything." Ferus continued. "She didn't like that and claimed some possible conspiracy…"

Vader turned to stare over at Ferus. "And what do you think?"

"I'm not sure what to think," Ferus shrugged vaguely, staring down at the carpet. "I mean, mysterious scars, incomplete records, your…your name… It's all highly suspicious."

"Yeah, suppose it is," Vader muttered, tracing his fingers over the cool metal of his prosthetic.

"So…can you tell me what's going on?" Ferus asked hesitantly.

"No," Vader denied flatly.

Ferus shifted anxiously. "Well, Master Siri has gone to see Master Yoda. She'll find out something."

"Hmph," Vader grunted. He wasn't all that worried. Yoda was a crafty old backwards talker, he would handle stubborn Knight Tachi just fine.

Ferus fell silent, leaving the only sound in the apartment from the pod-race on the vid-screen. The Malastare 500 had ended and now the announcers were dissecting the various participants' actions and strategies. As he watched a rather spectacular crash Vader rolled his eyes. Some things never change, Sebulba's still a cheat…

"I really don't understand your fascination with this sport." Obi-Wan sighed, seeming to materialize out of thin air behind the couch.

Vader turned to glance up at his Master and was immediately struck at how unhappy and weary he looked. Lifting the block on his end of the bond he was hit with a rush of tiredness laced with a faint tone of grief. He sat up straight, snapped out of his sullen sulk, and was instantly concerned.

"Master?" He asked quietly. "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine, just a busy day." Obi-Wan assured his Padawan, though Vader was certain he wasn't being entirely truthful. "Padawan Olin, I believe your Master is looking for you." He informed Ferus.

"Thank Master Kenobi." Ferus rose, bowed, and hurriedly exited the apartment.

Now alone, Vader asked again. "What's wrong?"

"Siri was just being her usual, difficult self is all." Obi-Wan muttered running a hand through his hair. "Master Yoda promised her that she would find the answers she sought in due time and she didn't take it all that well. I don't think she'll be speaking to me anytime soon."

Vader wilted. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever for?" Obi-Wan blinked.

"I got you in trouble with your friend." Vader mumbled, fiddling with the hem of his tunic sleeve.

"It's alright," Obi-Wan smiled, patting his shoulder. "She gets like that sometimes, I'm quite used to it." He paused before launching into a completely different subject. "Now I seem to recall that you promised to buy me a meal at Dex's a while back."

Vader thought for a moment, then sighed. "Oh yeah…" He'd promised to buy Obi-Wan something from Dex's if he would come and visit Padmé shortly after being released from the Healers'. He still hadn't followed up on that. "I did."

"I think I'd like that now." Obi-Wan smiled faintly.

"Alright," Vader agreed, rolling off the couch and scooping up his cloak.

Obi-Wan led him out of the apartment and through the Jedi Temple. As they walked, Obi-Wan seemed to cheer, most likely because he was about to get some free food. But as they approached a side door that would lead them towards Coco Town and Dex's Diner, Vader thought of something.

"Hey Master. Why did your meeting with the Council run so long?" Vader asked.

"Oh, they decided to surprise me and appoint me to fill the empty seat." Obi-Wan shrugged, stepping out onto the street. "And then they kept me all day in meetings."

"So…" Vader blinked, trying to make sense of this startling new information. "You're part of the Jedi Council now?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan nodded.

Vader pondered this for a while. "So is it as boring as I think it is?"

"Sitting on the Council is a great honor and an enormous responsibility." Obi-Wan countered sternly.

"It's boring then," Vader replied, feigning a yawn.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "What I am going to do with you?"

"I don't know," Vader shrugged. "What are you going to do with me?"

Obi-Wan just sighed in mock despair.

Vader grinned mischievously as he strolled alongside his Master. Dex's always makes a bad day better, he thought cheerfully. Even if I'm the one buying…