Chapter 50
A Great Honor

Vader dozed on the couch, glad to be home. After spending a few days on Corellia, during which Obi-Wan was busy most of the time with holo-conferences with the Jedi Council, they caught a shuttle back to Coruscant. Now Obi-Wan was conferencing with the Council in person, leaving Vader behind to amuse himself. And what he did to amuse himself was take a nap.

Or at least he tried to take a nap. At the moment he was hovering somewhere between being awake and being asleep. It was a weird sort of hazy consciousness. And it was kind of fun. In a semi-conscious sort of way.

I hope Artoo's not bored, he sighed. During his treatment aboard the Med-Star, Artoo and Geenine had brought his and Obi-Wan's Eta-2's back to the Temple hanger. Since then they hadn't had all that much to do. Vader resolved to visit the little droid later in the day.

I wonder, he mused, why Obi-Wan told me to wait before visiting the tailors and getting more clothes… I'm down to one complete, wearable outfit… I'd kinda like some more clothing soon…

There was a chime at the door. Vader groaned and rolled off the couch and onto the floor. Then he got up slowly and wandered over to see who it was. And as soon as the door hissed open–

"Force, what happened to your face?" Ferus choked.

"Gee, thanks a lot Ferus." Vader drawled.

"I-I'm sorry but…what happened to…" Ferus gestured helplessly at his own right temple, apparently at a loss for words.

Vader stared at Ferus for a moment. "I got a bug bite." He said flatly.

"H-how big was the bug?" Ferus stammered, wide-eyed.

Damn Ferus, you're an idiot! "I was being sarcastic." Vader sighed in annoyance. "I fell off a cliff."

"Oh," Ferus cringed.

"What do you want Ferus?" Vader grumbled.

"Uh, well, I heard you were back and… Do you want to eat lunch?" Ferus asked nervously.

What the heck? Vader blinked slowly. It almost sounds like… "Are you asking me out?" Vader frowned. Please say no.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Ferus asked, puzzled.

"Never mind," Vader sighed. You really are a moron… He glanced back inside at a chronometer to gauge the time. "Fine," he shrugged. It's not like I have anything else better to do. And I'm starting to get hungry.

Ferus gave a little nervous smile and started for the mess hall. Vader followed after him, leaving his cloak in the apartment and shutting the door behind him. As they walked, Vader was aware that Ferus kept stealing side-long glances at him.

"What is it?" Vader asked when he got sick of the weird attention.

"Did you get knighted?" Ferus inquired hesitantly.

"No," Vader snorted. I'll never be knighted. I'm stuck a Padawan forever. But you don't know that…

"But your braid is missing." Ferus pointed out.

"I lost it on accident." Vader grumbled.

"Oh," Ferus murmured.

They reached the cafeteria which, despite the noon hour, was rather empty. Most of the Jedi that were present were either very young or very old. All the rest were off world, running the war for the Republic.

After picking up some lunch, Ferus led him to a smaller table were two other Senior Padawans were sitting. Vader recognized them as the two Padawans he didn't really know that he'd last seen in the sparring match with Ferus where he'd accidentally let his whip scars be seen. One was a Human girl with wavy red hair and the other was a dark-haired, silver-skinned male humanoid.

"Hey Ferus," the male alien greeted cheerfully, "who'd you bring with you?"

"Vader," Ferus answered. "I told you I was going to invite him."

"Oh? But…" The silvery one squinted at Vader. "What happened to your face?"

Everybody and their mother are going to ask me this today, aren't they? "I fell down a cliff." Vader grumbled, slumping down into an empty seat.

"Oh my, are you all right?" The red-head asked in alarm.

"If I wasn't all right, I'd be in the Healer Wing." Vader pointed out, twirling a forkful of pasta.

"Right," she swallowed nervously. "So, when were you knighted?"

Vader had the sudden strong urge to bang his forehead against the table top. "I wasn't knighted. I lost my braid on my last mission." He informed her.

Now she really looked uncomfortable and embarrassed. Vader ignored her and concentrated on his lunch. Aside from the pasta, lunch for today consisted of a scoop of violet Garqi rice and half a Nabooan shuura fruit. Very tasty stuff over all.

The other three Padawans at the table eventually picked up their own conversation, ignoring him as he ignored them. Listening with half an ear as he ate, he picked up on a few things. The girl's name was Darra and the male alien's name was Tru. It seemed that they had been friends with Ferus for a long time, though Vader couldn't fathom why. Most of what else they said was gossip and speculation concerning other Padawans.

"You know what I heard?" Darra smirked, a sure sign she felt she had a real juicy piece of gossip. "I heard that A'Sharad was knighted early this morning…without undertaking the Trials!"

"Impossible!" Ferus snorted. "No Padawan has ever been knighted without enduring the Trials successfully."

Vader smirked. "My Master did," he declared smugly.

"What?" Ferus frowned. "No he didn't."

"Yes he did," Vader insisted. "He was knighted after defeating the Zabrak Sith on Naboo."

"He…he was?" Ferus choked.

"Yep," Vader nodded, biting into his half-a-shuura fruit.

"Wow," Darra breathed, sounding awed.

"Impressive," Tru added, sounding…impressed.

Vader shrugged and kept working on eating his fruit. It was a rare honor for his Master to have been knighted the way he was, but it had been earned at a steep cost. He remembered, though the other three either didn't know, or had forgotten.

A tap on his shoulder caught his attention just as he was chewing the last bite of his shuura. He looked up and leaned back to see his Master looming over him. Obi-Wan held Vader's cloak over one arm and, though clearly tired, looked amused.

"Hi Master," Vader greeted.

"Hello Padawan," Obi-Wan replied, oddly looking even more amused as he spoke. "Are you done with your lunch?"

"Yes," Vader blinked, "why?"

"The Council desires your presence." Obi-Wan informed him, holding out his cloak.

Damn it. "Okay," Vader sighed, getting up and shrugging on his cloak. "I'm coming."

Just my luck, Vader grumbled as he hurried disposed of his used lunch tray and scampered after his Master. I just got back today and already they want to see me. What could I have possible done to warrant this? Why me?

The walk and lift ride up the central spire was totally unremarkable, the same as it always was. Though Vader did notice one strange thing. Obi-Wan seemed deeply amused by this particular summons to the Council, excited even, and Vader found himself unable to gain anything informative through the bond. And that was making Vader highly suspicious.

"Something's going on," Vader muttered warily just before the lift doors chimed open on the floor of their destination.

"What makes you think that?" Obi-Wan asked innocently.

"A feeling," Vader grumbled, casting Obi-Wan a severe, suspicious glance. "That, and you've been smirking the whole time."

"Perhaps," Obi-Wan conceded with a chuckle, "but I promise you that it will be something good."

"Alright," Vader sighed dubiously, "if you say so."

"I do," Obi-Wan smiled triumphantly as the ornate wooden doors to the Council chamber swung open.

Strangely, it was dark inside. That never happened. Even if the lights were turned off, the enormous windows could provide more than enough light, especially at this time of day in clear weather. The blinds must've been drawn, though Vader wasn't aware that this chamber had blinds.

A gentle shove from Obi-Wan propelled him a few steps into the darkness. Obi-Wan slipped in behind him and vanished as the doors shut, making it completely impossible to see anything in the room. Touching on the Force helped him a bit, he could tell that (surprisingly) all the members of the Jedi Council were present, but he still had no clue as to what was going on.

What is this? A surprise party? He wondered sarcastically as he stood there in the dark. My Life Day was weeks ago and they don't like me enough to…

There were twelve distinctive snap-hisses as twelve lightsabers, one for each of the Councilors, flared into life. Green and blue blades, and a single purple one, illuminated the darkness as their owners held them perfectly vertical, their tips pointing to the ceiling. The Masters all had their hood up and their cloaks pulled closed, swathing most of their forms in shadow, leaving only their faces and hands visible in the eerie glow of their sabers. All of them stood by their chairs, Master Yoda stood on his chair while the others stood behind theirs.

When he first came to the Temple, he would've viewed this odd behavior as some sort of ritualistic slaying of a Tainted One or a Darksider. He would've either run away as fast as he possibly could, or prostrated himself before them in a cowardly panic and plead for his pathetic life. But now all he did was stare at it in confusion and utter incomprehension.

What…the…heck…? He blinked and remained frozen by the door, staring. What are they doing? …If this is a surprise party of some sort…it's a really, really weird one…

"Come forward," Master Yoda commanded in his deep, gravelly voice, pointing to a spot less than a foot from his chair with one clawed hand.

Vader obediently did as he was told without saying a word. This whole situation was so incredibly surreal that he wondered if this was some sort of strange dream. What? Did I pass out into my lunch tray?

"Kneel," Yoda ordered, his tiny green saber still held vertically aloft.

Again Vader obeyed, dropping to one knee before the tiny green troll. Master Yoda began to speak, but what he was saying was quite impossible. Vader just knelt there as the ancient Jedi spoke some even more ancient formula and moved his saber to almost touch each of Vader's shoulders and the top of his head.

"Rise, Jedi Knight!" Yoda both ordered and proclaimed.

Numb and dazed, Vader complied out of reflex, somehow getting his jelly-like legs to support his weight and keep from swaying too much. All the Masters then raised their lightsabers high over their heads in a sort of salute. Vader just watched with a blank expression, feeling dangerously lightheaded.

The old troll dismissed him, but it took a firm hand on his shoulder and a good tug to actually get him to move. Obi-Wan practically had to push him from behind the entire way back into the lift. And even then, as the lift began to descend, Vader swore it was all a dream. A nightmare, a freaky nightmare. Because there was simply no way that what had just happened, had just happened…

Obi-Wan was pleased with how well things had gone so far. After much argument and debate, the Council had finally come to a consensus on his motion, and it had been a favorable one. And Vader hadn't had a bad reaction to the traditional ritual. Considering how terrified of the Council Vader had been in the past, he'd worried that the young man would suffer some sort of panic attack when they all lit their lightsabers.

But when he glanced over at Vader, his satisfaction faded into worry. The young man was very pale and shaking. He looked scared and like he might be sick. Waves of anxiety and even fear rolled off him, thick and smothering. This was not the reaction he was used to seeing in those who had just been knighted.

"Are you all right?" He asked softly in concern.

Vader flinched at the sound of his voice, almost as if he'd been struck. "Huh-wha?"

"Are you all right?" Obi-Wan asked again.

"I…I-I dunno." Vader panted, clutching the hand rail of the lift car as he started to sway.

"Hey, calm down," Obi-Wan soothed, grasping Vader by the shoulders. He was startled by Vader's strange reaction and the strength of it. "Calm down. Relax. Why don't we take a walk to the Fountain Room?" He suggested.

"O-okay," Vader swallowed, managing to pull himself together a bit as the lift doors slid open.

"Good," Obi-Wan smiled encouragingly.

He led his younger companion through the hallways towards their goal, the Room of a Thousand Fountains. After making their way through the maze-like entrance-ways, Obi-Wan led his young friend towards a secluded corner he had enjoyed as a young Initiate and later as a Padawan. He came to a nice small shallow pool screened by a small dense grove of Alderaanian Elms and sat down. Obi-Wan pulled off his boots, rolled up his pant legs, and soaked his feet in the cool water before turning to speak with Vader.

"Now, what's wrong?" Obi-Wan asked.

Vader shifted around on the ground, trying to get comfortable. "I…well…" He grasped for some answer to give, when something seemed to occur to him. "You're trying to get rid of me!" He accused.

"What?" Obi-Wan frowned in confusion. "What makes you think that?"

"Now that…that I'm not your Padawan anymore…I won't be sent with you on deployments." Vader swallowed hard. "You're getting rid of me."

"No I'm not," Obi-Wan assured him, trying not to laugh. "That's not why you were knighted at all."

Vader's anxious expression now took on an element of pure puzzlement. "Then why? It's not like I'm a real Padawan. And I certainly don't deserve it…"

"You sell yourself short," Obi-Wan snorted. "We would not have agreed to your promotion if you were undeserving of it."

"But…but…" Vader sputtered. "I ran off twice without permission in just a couple weeks… I haven't admitted where I was before Ansion… And I still haven't told you things like my name… How can you knight me?"

"You went without permission, true. But you returned, and you did the Order services in leaving, like ending the threat of Asajj Ventress and rescuing stranded Jedi. While no one is pleased that you continue to remain silent on that little trip you went on pre-Ansion or your continued silence concerning your personal history, we cannot compel you to answer for it and so we can only be patient." Obi-Wan explained.

"However, your talents and skills are sorely needed." He continued. "Part of the reason for your promotion and the promotion of some others is that the Order is in desperate need of more Knights. Too many have died for us to keep going at the rate that we are. And so we are turning to Senior Padawans who have proven themselves worthy of the honor of knighthood and all the responsibilities that come with it."

"Oh," Vader frowned in thought. "The Council thinks I'm worthy?"

"For the most part yes. Some Masters still have reservations about you, most notably Master Rancisis and Master Kolar. But in the end, they all agreed." Obi-Wan replied.

Vader traced his metallic index finger through the dirt. "So I'll be sent off on my own now?" He asked, seemingly resigned to his suddenly lonely fate.

"No, not necessarily." Obi-Wan answered. "You'll still be sent with me most of the time, but on the occasions that you aren't, you'll always be with other Jedi."

"So it really won't be that different?" Vader wondered, looking a great deal more hopeful.

"Exactly," Obi-Wan smiled. "And you won't have to worry about growing out a new Padawan braid." He added, recalling Vader's great disdain for the 'pansy' hairstyle.

"That's right," Vader smirked slightly. "I can grow my hair out again!"

"Yes," Obi-Wan chuckled. "Now are you feeling better?"

"Yeah," Vader sighed sheepishly. He was visibly relaxed now and the color was returning to his face.

"Now why don't you go down the tailors and get some more clothes?" Obi-Wan suggested.

"Right," Vader nodded and got up. "Wait…that's why you told me to wait before getting new clothes. You knew!"

"I only knew that it was a possibility that they would agree to knight you." Obi-Wan corrected. "Now remember, while it isn't required, Padawans usually modify their outfits upon being knighted."

"Great, I'll dress all in black now!" He teased as he walked off.

"Sure you will." Obi-Wan snorted disbelievingly.

Vader just disappeared through the trees without any further comment. Now alone, Obi-Wan sighed and enjoyed the feel of cool water on his bare feet. But then a faint frown found its way onto his face.

He'd better not dress all in black…

As Vader traversed the halls on his way to the tailors to order more sets of robes, the whole day still held the feel of unreality. Ever since he'd accepted the deal offered by the Jedi Council, he had lived under the impression that he would be a Padawan forever until he decided it was time to leave. But now…he was a Knight.

It felt strange, bordering on overwhelming. At first he thought it was some sort of sick practical joke that the Council was playing on him. And then he'd panicked, fearing that it was just Obi-Wan getting tired of dealing with him and casting him aside. He still wasn't entirely sure that he liked the idea of being a Knight, but what's done was done, no going back now. Padawan braids were girly anyway.

Before he knew it, he'd reached the tailors. There were no actual living tailors here, just fabrication droids designed to sew clothes, belts, boots, and a few other clothing accessories. Since he hadn't grown any since his last visit here, there was no need to be measured again, the system remembered his measurements. All he had to do was login in and all the proper dimensions were there along with his current outfit.

Out of habit he almost just entered the number and type of items he wanted. But then he stopped and remembered that he could make some modifications this time. So he leaned against the terminal he was using and started to do some exploring.

After hours of skimming through the available selection of designs and fabrics, he finalized his choices. He kept the same style of boots because he liked them, and he kept the same kind of pants. But when it came to tunics, he changed things up. Losing the gray under tunic, he went with brown instead. And instead of the brown over tunic, he changed it to a dull charcoal black, and the fabric belt was changed to this shade too. He kept the black synth-leather straps, the black belt, and the same dark brown cloak.

Satisfied with his choices, he almost submitted his order. But then he saw something that caught his eye. Intrigued, he investigated further and liked what he saw. Smirking, he altered his order and added a special note. He submitted his choices and when the computer didn't protest anything in it, he left with a smile on his face.

Not feeling like going back to his apartment and having no desire to track Ferus and his pals down, he decided to go to the hanger and visit Artoo. He hadn't seen the spunky little Astrodroid since his ill-fated encounter with…what's-her-name. It would be nice to hang out with his mechanical buddy again.

Vader grinned as he approached his Starfighter and saw the blue-trimmed droid come into view. Artoo was inactive at the moment, having nothing to be doing. But as Vader got closer, the droid's proximity sensors detected his approach and Artoo warbled to life. The little robot squealed in joy when it determined who he was.

"Hey Artoo!" Vader grinned. "How are you?' He asked, hopping up onto the wing so he could peer into the cockpit and see the translation screen.

I'M GREAT! Artoo whistled. HOW ARE YOU? ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?

"I'm fine Artoo," Vader smiled. "A little rest and a little Bacta do wonders."

WONDERFUL! I WAS WORRIED. Artoo chirped.

"You worried about me? How nice." Vader chuckled.

YES, I FEARED THAT PADME WOULD DEACTIVATE ME IF YOU WERE PERMANENTLY DAMAGED OR DESTROYED. Artoo moaned.

"Oh she wouldn't do anything that drastic." Vader assured the droid. "She likes you too much. At the worst she might switch you off for a few days and then not talk to you."

I SUPPOSE, Artoo conceded.

"Now," Vader decided the change the subject, "what do you think about repainting this thing yellow and white?" He asked, gesturing at the Starfighter.

INTERESTING CHOICE, Artoo warbled. I LIKE IT!

"Good," Vader chuckled. "As soon as I can track down the paint, we'll do it."

YAY! Artoo squealed, spinning his sensor dome around a full three hundred and sixty degrees.

Vader laughed and shook his head at the silly droid's antics. He was about say something else when he heard a familiar voice. Curious, he left the wing of his Starfighter and went over to crouch at the edge of the platform that it rested on. Artoo was equally curious and hopped out of the Astromech socket to roll over next to him.

On the level below them was a Delta-7. Moving around it were three Padawans: Ferus Olin, Tru something, and Darra something-or-other. They were gossiping again and they were just loud enough for Vader to catch every word.

"I heard that Tarzi thinks that he's a spy." Darra commented.

"Tarzi's an idiot." Ferus scoffed. "There's no way that the Council would allow a spy into the fold."

"Right," Tru agreed with Ferus distractedly. The silvery-skinned humanoid seemed more focused on tinkering with some circuitry in the Delta-7.

Who are they talking about now? Vader wondered curiously. Who's a 'spy?'

"Well, spy or not, he's definitely not what he appears to be. You're Master proved it, didn't she?" Darra asked Ferus. "Really, who has incomplete records?"

Aw crap, they're talking about me… Vader scowled.

"Perhaps there was a computer error." Ferus suggested. "Maybe a slicer made it into the system and messed with his files."

"What sort of idiot slices into the computer system of the Jedi Order?" Darra snorted. "They'd get caught and punished and the data would be restored."

"Well then what do you think happened to his files?" Ferus asked in annoyance.

"I have no idea." Darra shrugged.

"What do you know then?" Ferus frowned.

"That he's handsome." Darra grinned, blushing slightly.

"What?" Ferus blanched.

"What?" Tru frowned, looking up from his tinkering.

What! Vader choked, clapping his hands over his mouth. What!

"I said that I think he's cute." Darra squirmed a little, blushing more.

"Darra," Ferus swallowed, looking almost ill.

"That's…a risky thing to say." Tru said carefully. "You know that fellow Jedi are not allowed to get involved with one another."

"I know," Darra pouted. "It's not fair though."

Okay, this is just creepy. Vader squirmed. I'm avoiding her from now on.

"These restrictions are in place for a reason." Tru pointed out.

"It's stupid," Darra scowled. "I'm not going to turn to the Dark Side if I date him."

That's because I'm not going to date you! Vader thought fiercely. I'd date Padmé though… He blushed and mentally kicked himself. Must stop thinking about her like that!

"But Darra…" Ferus protested feebly.

"Don't 'but Darra' me!" Darra fumed. "One of these days I'll ask him out!" She declared. "Subtly of course."

Oh man… Vader cringed. I'm definitely avoiding her now…

"Darra!" Ferus choked, looking liked he'd gotten punched in the stomach.

"Darra, please!" Tru sputtered, echoing Ferus' shock.

"I'm out of here!" Darra grumbled, striding off in a huff.

As the fiery red-head receded from sight, Tru, Ferus, and Vader watched her go. Vader was relieved that she was finally leaving. Tru appeared to be deeply worried. And Ferus looked stricken, almost ill.

"Ack!" Vader muttered softly, slinking away from the edge of the platform. "That was not fun."

Artoo seemed to agree with him as the droid followed him, warbling mournfully.

"Oh well," Vader sighed, glancing at a nearby chronometer. "It's getting late, dinner's coming up soon. I'll see you later, okay Artoo?"

The droid whistled an affirmative.

"Great," Vader smiled as he jogged off, "see ya!"

Obi-Wan sipped at his cup of Atoran tea and contemplated the barely visible trails of steam that wafted off the surface of the dark liquid. It was starting to get late, nearly time to eat dinner. So far, Vader's new clothes had arrived and were sitting by the door, still wrapped in white plastic, but Vader himself had yet to appear.

While he prided himself on being a very patient person, Obi-Wan had to admit that his curiosity was killing him. He really wanted to see what Vader had chosen to change about his robes. But he also dreaded that it would be all black like Vader had joked he'd pick.

Going all black isn't going to inspire much hope among the Councilors, Obi-Wan sighed. In fact that will probably make things worse. Somehow…

The door hissed open and Vader entered, nearly tripping over his packages. "Ooh, it came!" He grinned. Obviously his anxiety about the change in his rank had faded, or at least was momentarily forgotten.

"Yes it did, now please get it away from the door and into your room." Obi-Wan replied dryly.

"Yes Master," Vader grinned cheekily, gathered the bulky packages in his arms, and scampered into his room.

And now to wait, Obi-Wan mused, sipping at his tea. Will it be black? Or will it be…something else?

Obi-Wan was patient as always as he awaited the unveiling of his Padawan's – well, ex-Padawan now – new attire. But when nearly a half an hour passed by without Vader appearing, he started to get worried. What could've possibly happened to him in his room?

(Are you still alive in there?) Obi-Wan sent worriedly.

(Yeah, just having a little trouble with…something. Be out in a few minutes.) Vader promised.

Trouble with '…something?' Obi-Wan frowned. What did he mean by that? And better yet, do I really want to know?

As promised, a few minutes later Vader left his room with a fresh cloak obscuring what he was wearing. Obi-Wan's worried expression grew even more worried when he caught the mischievous glint in his friend's eye. I've got a bad feeling about this…

"Well, let's see it." Obi-Wan sighed, turning in his chair so that he was facing Vader.

Vader grinned widely and theatrically removed his cloak. Obi-Wan swallowed a groan as he took it all in. Oh blast…

It wasn't all black. But it was blacker than his last outfit. He supposed he should consider himself blessed that it wasn't any worse than it was.

"It's not all black," Vader shrugged, getting a tad defensive as he picked up on Obi-Wan's disapproval.

"Yes I know," Obi-Wan agreed wearily. "It's just blacker."

"Yep," Vader grinned, obviously pleased with himself. "And look, I found this neat glove!" He gleefully held out his right arm, displaying a long black leather glove that appeared to be padded and had three silver buckles to ensure a snug fit. "Getting it on right was tricky," Vader admitted, "but now no one will be staring at my shiny metal hand."

"Interesting," Obi-Wan murmured, partly impressed, and partly wondering about Vader's strange fashion-sense. "Though have you considered what your clothes imply?"

"What? That I like the color black?" Vader blinked in puzzlement.

Obviously not. "Never mind." Obi-Wan muttered and returned to his tea.

"No, what?" Vader frowned, taking a seat at the table and pouring himself his own cup of tea.

"The Council, and perhaps some others, will read more deeply into your choices. They might see it as a lingering affinity for the Dark Side." Obi-Wan explained.

"That's stupid and untrue." Vader scowled. "I just happen to like black. I think I look good in it."

"It's what they might think," Obi-Wan shrugged.

Vader grumbled incoherently and glared into his teacup. They didn't speak any more as they worked on their own cups of tea. Only when their cups were empty and everything was cleaned up and put away did they resume speaking.

"Care to join me for dinner?" Obi-Wan asked in a dry joking tone.

"Of course," Vader snorted, pulling his cloak back on.

"All right then," Obi-Wan smiled faintly, "off to dinner then."

They left the apartment and headed off to the cafeteria. Obi-Wan swallowed a laugh as he realized that Vader was still followed a step behind and to the side of him like all Padawans were required to do when going anywhere with their Masters. The practice was to show others that the Master was the one in charge and the Padawan was a subordinate there to learn and observe.

"You don't have to walk so far behind me anymore." Obi-Wan chuckled.

"What do you mean?" Vader asked, completely missing what he was doing.

Obi-Wan struggled not to laugh. "Here," he grabbed Vader's arm and pulled him forward so that they were even with each other. "That's what I mean."

"Oh," Vader blinked. Then he scowled. "Stupid habit," he grumbled, "it's all your fault."

"It's my fault?" Obi-Wan snorted. "I didn't come up with the traditions, I just taught them to you."

"Hmph," Vader grunted, "I still say it's your fault," he grumbled stubbornly.

Obi-Wan only shook his head. "Suit yourself."

Vader made no reply and moment later they'd entered the cafeteria. As they went through the line to pick up their food, Obi-Wan smiled as he noted some other Jedi giving Vader second looks as they noticed his new clothing and his lack of a braid. Vader himself was oblivious to this attention as he was focused solely on getting his food, just like he usually was around mealtime. If he was hungry enough, Vader would probably miss seeing a Reek stampeding through the cafeteria.

The more things change, Obi-Wan chuckled to himself, the more things stay the same…