Chapter 51
The Hero With No Fear

Vader awoke the next morning firmly believing that most of yesterday had been a dream. A weird, almost terrible, sort of dream. But when he dug through his drawers and closet for clothes, he was startled to find his new blacker robes. Shaken, he gathered up the necessary clothing and went to take a nice long shower.

As the hot water cascaded over his skin, Vader flinched as his prosthetic went into a tingly fit. Since it was still so new, it would probably do this off and on for about a month or so until he completely adjusted to it. At least it wasn't as bad as it was with his first replacement hand.

So, I wasn't dreaming all of that… Vader mused as he washed his hair. I really was knighted…

It still didn't feel real. He wondered if it ever would. And he wondered if he even wanted to. Shivering despite the hot water, Vader finished up and stepped out of the shower.

He dried off, shaved, dressed, brushed his teeth, and took the time to study his reflection in the mirror. The scar on his temple made him cringe a bit when he saw it, but he really wasn't all that worried or upset about it. But something else did bother him. Squinting, he leaned closer to the mirror and studied his hair. It was starting to get long again, which was good because he intended to grow it out again, but…

It's getting…kinda curly, Vader scowled in confusion. Why is it doing that? Is it because it's still kind of wet? He wondered, running his hands through his hair.

This wasn't the first time he'd noticed this. Several times in the war, when he wasn't as able to keep his hair trimmed as regularly as before, he'd noticed that his hair had the odd tendency to curl. He'd always convinced himself that he must be seeing things, but now he wasn't so sure.

Why the heck is it getting curly? It's never been curly before. My hair's always been straight. Vader frowned worriedly at his reflection, crossing his arms over his chest. Ugh, as if I wasn't enough of a freak already…

Shaking his head, he picked up his glove which he hadn't put on yet, and left the refresher. He wandered over to the couch and started working on putting on his new glove. It was a tricky process as he had to very carefully tuck his tunic sleeves into the glove so that it didn't bunch up uncomfortably and then tighten each of the three silver buckles so the glove fit snugly. With practice he might be able to get it on quickly, but right now it was almost an ordeal.

Now that his glove was on, he stood up and slipped into the tiny kitchen. Obi-Wan was already there, waiting for the tea kettle to get the water boiling so he could make the morning tea. The Jedi Master leaned against the countertop with his eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest, calmly waiting.

"Hey," Vader greeted, self-consciously running his hand through his hair.

"Good morning," Obi-Wan replied, not opening his eyes.

"What's the tea for this morning?" Vader asked, though he really didn't care.

"I was thinking of Blue Dantaari tea." Obi-Wan answered.

"Oh," Vader mumbled. He chewed his lip, trying to order his thoughts. "Master?"

"You don't have to call me 'Master' anymore." Obi-Wan pointed out. "What is it?"

"Once a Padawan is knighted, they're supposed to move into their own apartment, right?" Vader asked anxiously.

"Generally yes," Obi-Wan replied, finally deciding to open his eyes. "But if you don't want to, you don't have to. With the war and all, we're never here for very long anyway." The tea kettle whistled and Obi-Wan removed it from the stove. "It's not like I plan to take on a new Padawan and need the room open." He added.

"Okay," Vader sighed in deep relief.

"Any other questions?" Obi-Wan chuckled as he pulled out the teabags from a cupboard.

"Um," Vader ran his hand through his hair again. "Do you know if it's normal that my hair seems to be…getting…curly?"

"Curly?" Obi-Wan frowned, squinting. "It doesn't look curly to me."

"You sure?" Vader frowned.

"Yes," Obi-Wan nodded.

"I swear," Vader muttered, "every time it gets long it starts looking curly to me."

"It must be your imagination." Obi-Wan shrugged.

"Why would I imagine that?" Vader wondered.

"No idea," Obi-Wan shrugged and passed Vader a cup of the bluish tea.

Vader mutely accepted the tea and sipped at it, grimacing slightly at the faintly bitter aftertaste. Obi-Wan didn't appear to mind the taste at all, calmly sipping his own tea with a completely neutral expression on his face. Silence reigned until the tea ran out.

"So what are we going to do today?" Vader inquired curiously.

"Well, unless a major emergency flares up, I have the day off, so I thought we'd celebrate your promotion." Obi-Wan smiled.

"Are we going to Dex's?" Vader asked hopefully.

"Yes, but not just yet." Obi-Wan nodded. "First we will go to the cafeteria and get a proper breakfast."

"We can't go to Dex's for breakfast?" Vader pouted.

"No, we're going to Dex's for lunch." Obi-Wan decided. "Now come along."

"Yes Master," Vader sighed, grabbing his cloak and shrugging it on.

"I seem to recall a time when you used to call me 'Obi-Wan.'" The Jedi Master grumbled as he headed to the cafeteria.

Vader simply grinned and followed Obi-Wan out the door. He fell into his usual position behind his Master, only to have Obi-Wan grow irritated and pulled him forward a bit. Vader cringed sheepishly and tried to stay in this new position, but it felt so strange. He was used to following his Master, not walking alongside him like some kind of equal.

He relaxed a bit when they entered the cafeteria and he smelled breakfast. Today the offered breakfast was some kind of scrambled eggs, some kind of bacon, and some kind of fried potatoes. This was one of Vader's favorites. He gleefully loaded up his tray and followed Obi-Wan to a small table.

But just as he had settled down and lifted his fork to dig in, something bad happened. A shadow fell over his tray; a chill of foreboding hit him. Darra had found him.

"Hello," she greeted with a smile, "is this seat taken?" She asked politely, nodding at the open seat next to Vader.

Oh…no… Vader grasped for some reason, some excuse, to tell her yes, that seat was taken. But Obi-Wan betrayed him.

"No it isn't." Obi-Wan told her.

"Oh good," she grinned and cheerfully slipped into the open seat.

I…am going…to die… Vader swallowed a moan and did his best to hide his dismay and keep his expression neutral. He was in no way interested in her, but he didn't want to hurt her feelings or make an enemy of her.

Obi-Wan glanced around the cafeteria and seemed to see someone he knew. "I think I'll leave you two alone." He decided, picked up his tray, and left.

Vader stared after him, shocked and horrified. He just…he just…he just ditched me! No!

"Good morning," Darra smiled. "Enjoying your breakfast?"

"Yeah," he answered slowly, desperately searching for some reason to flee, looking for someone to save him.

"Personally I prefer pancakes." She sighed. "What's your favorite?" Darra asked, leaning in a bit closer.

Vader leaned a bit back. "Um, this." He replied nervously, pointing at his current breakfast.

"Hmm," she hummed, studying his face with a little too much interest. "I hear that Tarzi thinks you're a spy."

Oh Force not this again! "That's ridiculous," Vader frowned.

"That's what I thought," Darra agreed.

Vader turned his focus to his breakfast and did his best to demolish it as quickly as possible. A mouth full of food would make it impossible for him to answer any question she asked right away. And as soon as he finished his food, he could excuse himself and hopefully ditch her.

"So what's your favorite color?" She asked curiously.

Aw kriffing hell… "Black, blue, and yellow, in that order." He replied in a monotone.

"Hmm, what's your favorite thing to eat?" She inquired.

"Chaavi soup and breadsticks." Vader answered stiffly.

"I don't think I've heard of that, what is it?" Darra wondered.

"It's a spicy soup." Vader shrugged. Try it, it'll burn your tongue off so I don't have to listen to you anymore…

"Is it any good?" She asked.

"Yeah, I think so." Vader muttered.

"I guess I'll have to try it then!" She smiled brightly.

Yeah, you do that… Vader fought not to shudder as he felt the weight of her interest in him increase. He kept powering through his breakfast, desperate to escape her. But then the Force seemed to take pity on him and he was saved… Sort of.

"There you are!" Tru exclaimed in relief, appearing at the side of the table with Ferus at his elbow. "We couldn't find you."

"Oh, sorry," Darra shrugged, totally disinterested in her friends' presence.

"Tell us next time you plan on disappearing," Tru frowned, taking a seat across from her at the table.

"Sure," Darra shrugged again. "Now, do you like to fly?" She asked Vader, pointedly ignoring both Tru and Ferus who had taken the seat across from her target.

"Yes," he answered tersely.

"What sorts of things do you like to fly?" Darra inquired politely.

"Anything really," Vader shrugged.

She continued with her questions for what felt like an hour. She asked about his likes, dislikes, and opinions. Vader gave short, but honest answers, praying she'd run out of questions soon. It was annoying, but at least she didn't ask any tricky questions like what his real name was or about his questionable records.

"What–" Darra started to ask yet another question, but was thankfully interrupted.

"You're pestering him," Ferus accused nervously, picking at his eggs.

"I am not!" Darra snorted.

"Yes, you are. Let him eat in peace." Ferus frowned.

"I'm not!" Darra scowled. "Hey Vader, tell them I'm not–" She stopped abruptly as she turned to see that Vader wasn't there anymore.

Taking full advantage of her distraction, Vader had picked up his tray and fled the scene. He wasn't finished with all the food on his plate, but he'd eaten enough. Now all he had to do was make sure she didn't find him again, and find Obi-Wan to strangle him.

Obi-Wan had spied his old friend Garen and so left Vader alone with the girl, who he presumed to be an old classmate of his, in favor of catching up with his old friend. Garen was quite glad to see him and they spent more time talking than eating. And things would've continued on that way, perhaps for hours, but they were interrupted.

A shadow fell over Obi-Wan's shoulder and he glanced up to see Vader there. The young man gave him the dirtiest look he'd given Obi-Wan in years before taking a seat beside him and burying his face in his crossed arms on top of the tabletop. Obi-Wan stared curiously at Vader and Garen open and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find something to say.

"What was that about?" Obi-Wan inquired.

"Never leave me alone with her again." Vader grumbled, his voice muffled by his arms and the tabletop.

"Why? What did she do?" Obi-Wan asked curiously.

"She wouldn't stop asking me questions." Vader growled. "Really stupid questions. Like what my favorite color is."

"Perhaps she just wished to get to know you better." Obi-Wan suggested.

"Well I don't want her to know me better," Vader muttered.

"Why not?" Obi-Wan frowned.

"She bothers me." Vader sighed, finally picking his head up, now resting his chin on his fist.

"How so?" Obi-Wan asked.

"When we were in classes together she never once spoke to me and now all of a sudden I'm the most interesting person on Coruscant." Vader snorted. "I find that to be rather strange, almost creepy."

"Perhaps she didn't notice you back then." Garen suggested, entering in to the conversation.

"Probably," Vader admitted, looking uncomfortable. "But…yesterday I overhead her talking about me, and she expressed some…unusual…interest in me."

"Really?" Obi-Wan blinked.

"Yeah," Vader shuddered slightly. "Seriously, never leave me alone with her again. Can we go somewhere else now?"

"All right," Obi-Wan sighed, "we'll go." He got up and Vader eagerly joined him in standing. "Garen, it was nice talking to you."

"It was nice talking to you too." Garen grinned. "Have a nice day you two."

"Good bye." Obi-Wan smiled and left the cafeteria.

Vader was right behind him, barely taking the time to wave a quick farewell to Garen in his hurry to escape. He also fell back into his habit of following behind Obi-Wan at his shoulder. Obi-Wan shook his head and corrected him again as they exited the cafeteria.

"Really, I thought you disliked having to follow me around in my shadow." Obi-Wan sighed as he again pulled Vader even with him.

"I did," Vader muttered, "but it's habit now. Where are we going now?"

"For a walk." Obi-Wan replied calmly.

"To where?" Vader asked curiously.

"You'll see," was all Obi-Wan decided to tell him.

"I'm a little sick of surprises right now." Vader grumbled sourly.

"Well this surprise shouldn't be as traumatic as the last one," Obi-Wan teased with a chuckle.

Vader grumbled something incoherent under his breath, but otherwise made no reply. They walked in silence through the halls of the Jedi Temple and soon exited the massive ancient building. As Obi-Wan led Vader through the endlessly busy streets of Coruscant he wondered how well Vader would take his surprise.

There are two ways he can take this, Obi-Wan mused as he walked. He'll either be happy about it and perhaps even thank me later. Or he'll just act happy and then when we leave he'll express his interest in strangling me…

Padmé leaned back in her desk chair and sighed heavily. The stack of report folios and data disks on her desk was towering, just looking at it threatened to give her a migraine. There was just no end to the paperwork and reports. For every one she got through, two more seemed to appear.

War was just one enormous terrible mess. When the Republic suffered many losses, there were reports detailing just what assets the Confederacy had claimed and all the forces they'd lost. When the Republic won, there were reports of what new things they had acquired from the Separatists and how to rebuild reclaimed Republic systems devastated by Confederacy occupation. No matter what happened, they were reports about it that had to be read and analyzed.

No rest for the weary, Padmé yawned, stretching out her cramped muscles and joints. The Senate would not be in session today, but that didn't mean she had the day off. No vacations, no breaks, not until my desk is clear, my duties fulfilled, and my conscience satisfied. Padmé rubbed a hand over her face, trying to scrub away her weariness, before straightening in determination and leaning forward again to continue examining reports.

"Milady?" Moteé hesitantly interrupted.

"Yes Moteé, what is it?" Padmé replied.

"Some Jedi have arrived." Moteé informed her.

"Oh?" Padmé blinked. "Who are they?"

"Master Kenobi and…" Moteé hesitated, looking unsure. "I think Padawan Vader."

"You think?" Padmé raised a questioning eyebrow.

"If he is Padawan Vader, he looks significantly different than the last time I saw him." Moteé explained.

"Hmm," Padmé hummed thoughtfully, intrigued. "Thank you Moteé." Padmé gladly abandoned her cluttered desk in favor of playing hostess to her Jedi guests.

She found them sitting in the common room. Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi was indeed here, sitting on the couch and sipping some tea that Sabé had just finished pouring for him. Next to him sat the less identifiable Jedi.

He certainly appeared to be Vader. But there were several striking differences. His hair was slightly longer than she ever remembered seeing it and there appeared to be a very vague sort of curl to it. His robes were different, a good deal blacker than the black, brown, and gray combination she was used to seeing, and he wore a single black glove on his right hand, a hand that didn't appear to be the skeletal prosthetic that Vader possessed. And there was a startling scar running vertically along his right temple, just missing the corner of his eye.

Padmé found she wasn't the only one confused at the mysterious young Jedi's identity. Sabé and Moteé were staring at him as well. And if Ellé was working today, she'd probably stare too. Only Obi-Wan wasn't staring, and that was because he knew exactly who he'd brought with him.

"Good morning," Padmé greeted, pushing aside her pondering on the young darkly-clad Jedi.

"Good morning," Obi-Wan replied, smiling pleasantly.

The other Jedi nodded, giving a nervous half-smile and a little wave.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Padmé asked curiously, taking a seat across from them.

"Well, we just returned to Coruscant yesterday and I thought we'd stop by and see how you were doing." Obi-Wan explained cheerfully, a strangely mischievous glint in his eye.

"Is that all?" Padmé murmured disbelievingly, distractedly accepting a cup of tea from Sabé.

Obi-Wan didn't answer her. Instead he cast an amused glace over at his younger companion. The younger Jedi shot Obi-Wan a pleading expression to no avail.

"I, um," he stammered anxiously. Any doubts as to his identity were erased at the sound of his voice. "I was knighted." Vader answered sheepishly.

It took Padmé a moment to process this bit of information. "Really?" She gasped in excitement.

"Yeah," Vader nodded, looking embarrassed.

"That's wonderful!" Padmé grinned in girlish delight. If there hadn't been a caf table and several feet between them, she would've leapt forward and hugged him.

"Congratulations!" Sabé added with her own warm smile.

Vader shrugged uncomfortably. "Thanks."

"You're very welcome," Padmé smiled, finding his shy embarrassment over the whole situation cute and endearing.

The newly minted Knight just squirmed more and blushed slightly at her attention and Padmé did her best to smother a giggle. Before poor Vader could get even more embarrassed and flustered, there was a faint sound of the comm chime as it leaked in from another room. Padmé almost rose to answer it but Sabé beat her to it, hurrying from the room to answer.

"I hope that's nothing important." Padmé sighed. If it was, she wouldn't be much of a hostess and her friends would probably end up leaving.

"I didn't think the Senate was in session for most of this week." Vader remarked tentatively, his tone indicating confusion.

"Oh it isn't," Padmé replied. "But just because there isn't a session coming up immediately doesn't mean there isn't work to do."

"Really?" Vader blinked.

"Yes, there are reports to read and write, meetings to arrange and attend, and other things like that." Padmé explained. "Really there never seems to be enough hours in the day to get it all done."

"Oh," Vader cringed. "Are we taking up too much of your time?" He asked anxiously.

"No, no," Padmé laughed, "not at all. In fact your visits give me a good excuse for a break."

Sabé returned from answering the comm with a sour look on her face. Padmé felt a rising sense of dread as she looked eyes with her friend. But she had to ask…

"Who was it Sabé?" Padmé inquired.

"It was Senator Vorski." Sabé answered. "Again."

"Oh," Padmé sighed wearily. Oh no, not him again…

Senator Josef Vorski of the Voshi System was a man she couldn't stand. He was a dirty old man, a shameless womanizer, and probably a pervert. If he wasn't so influential and a fellow Senator she would make it perfectly clear that she was not interested in him.

But he was influential and wasn't above using his power to inflict petty revenge and blackmail those who defied him into compliance. He could easily hamper the flow of pharmaceuticals from Voshi, making her people suffer, if she outright refused him. So she had to dance around him, never explicitly saying no, but certainly never saying yes.

And the worst part of this mess was, the more she tried to avoid him, the more he pursued her. He seemed to see her actions as playing hard-to-get and so he stepped up his attempts to court her accordingly. It was like he simply couldn't understand that she didn't want to sleep with him, like the thought of her not being interested in him had ever crossed his mind.

"Who?" Vader asked, yanking Padmé out of her thoughts.

"Senator Josef Vorski of the Voshi System," Padmé replied. "And all you ever need to know about him you can find in the tabloids."

"Oh dear," Obi-Wan frowned, "I think I may have heard of him. Isn't he supposed to be some sort of playboy?"

"Yes, he is." Padmé scowled in disgust.

"If you dislike him so much, why don't you tell him to stop calling?" Vader asked hesitantly.

"I would if I could, but it's not that simple." Padmé sighed. "If I offend him, he'll find some way to make my life more difficult. It's what he's infamous for. That and hopping in bed with anything that's young, female, and highly attractive."

"Ugh, what a creep!" Vader scowled. "Are you sure you just can't tell him off?"

"Yes, it's safer to just wait it out." Padmé explained. "Eventually his short attention span will kick in and he'll find some other female who's younger and more willing to hop into bed with him." Padmé paused to take a sip of tea. "So I have to ask, how did you get that scar?" She asked Vader curiously.

Vader shifted uneasily in his seat. "Well, I, um, kind of…got blown off a cliff."

"O-oh my goodness!" Padmé sputtered, a hand rising to her mouth. "Are you–"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Vader hurriedly assured her. "I heal quick," he smirked. "I even got a new hand."

"Really?" Padmé blinked, trying to calm down from the shock of his admission. "Can I see it?"

"Um, sure," Vader blinked.

He shrugged off his cloak, giving her a better view of his new version of Jedi robes. The glove he wore on his right hand was long, almost going up to his elbow, and it had three shiny silver buckles on it. He loosened each clasp and then pulled the black leather glove off, revealing a gray durasteel prosthetic. It lacked the golden color and skeletal appearance of his old one and she knew he appreciated that.

"Better than the old one," she remarked. "Do you like it?"

"Yes, it's much better." Vader grinned.

"Wonderful," Padmé smiled.

Vader blushed a little and put his glove back on. Or at least he tried to. It appeared that he couldn't tuck his sleeve in quite right and he scowled in rising frustration.

Padmé took pity on him and set her teacup aside so she could help him. She stood up and walked around the table and batted his hand away so she could fix his sleeve. He was startled at her sudden proximity and sat perfectly still as she worked. When she finished, she stepped back and admired her handiwork.

"There, how's that?" She inquired.

"It-it's fine," he stammered. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she replied, returning to her seat. Seeing that the young Knight was a bit flustered by her attention, she decided to give him some time to recover. "So Obi-Wan, how long is your leave this time?"

"A little less than a week," Obi-Wan replied.

"That's not very long," Sabé commented with a frown.

"No it isn't, but the Order is stretched thin as it is, they can't afford to give us long breaks in between deployments." Obi-Wan explained.

"Oh," Sabé murmured, drifting off into her own thoughts.

"What are your plans for your leave?" Padmé asked.

"Well my time will most likely be taken up by Council meetings and…well…meetings." Obi-Wan shrugged. "What will you do with your time?" He asked Vader.

"Um…I don't know." Vader shrugged. "I usually just make things up as I go along."

"Why am I not surprised?" Obi-Wan asked rhetorically in a dry voice.

"Hey," Vader pouted, acting hurt.

"Behave now boys," Padmé giggled, "no fighting."

"Yes milady." Obi-Wan replied seriously.

Vader's response was a bit…odd. "Yes mother," he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and sulking.

Padmé blinked for a moment in surprise, then burst out laughing. Somehow she never expected a Jedi to tease her that way. Maybe it was because Jedi never knew their mothers.

"You're a funny little boy!" She giggled teasingly.

Vader snapped his head up and stared at her with a very strange expression on his face. Before she could decipher it, it faded back into a sulky look. "I am not a little boy," he pouted.

"I know, I'm sorry," Padmé sighed, sobering a little.

"I forgive you," Vader replied graciously.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at his former Padawan's antics. "So Padmé, how are things going on Naboo?" He asked, firmly changing the subject.

"Well, according to the last letter from my mother…"

Vader sighed in a mixture of relief and regret as he and Obi-Wan left Padmé's apartment building behind as they headed for lunch at Dex's Diner. He was relieved to have avoided making too much of a fool of himself in Padmé's presence. Yet he regretted having to leave so soon.

At least I'm getting free lunch at Dex's, he consoled himself. And I can visit Padmé again later. Maybe tomorrow…

As they rounded a corner on the way to Coco Town, the old industrial district were their goal was located, Obi-Wan ran right into a very stupid death-stick dealer. The humanoid alien, utterly oblivious to the face that the bearded man who had almost collided with him was a Jedi, offered to sell him some of his illicit merchandise. Vader smothered a snicker as Obi-Wan used the Jedi mind trick to convince the dealer that he didn't want to sell drugs anymore, he wanted to go home to his family and start his life over.

What an idiot, Vader grinned as they moved on. It was funny, every time they ran into a weak-minded drug dealer or other type of petty criminal (which at times was shockingly often) Obi-Wan would always pull the same mind trick on them. He's such a softy. He should convince them to turn themselves into some law enforcement station, but he sends them home to rethink their lives instead…

I'm glad I'm not weak-minded, Vader decided. Otherwise Obi-Wan might've sent me home to Mom to 'rethink my life choice of being an almost-Sith.' Being a Jedi is much more fun and rewarding…except for the whole almost-being-blown-up-every-time-I-go-on-a-mission thing. That part's kind of annoying.

The further they walked from the up-scale Senatorial District, the darker and grungier the buildings became. Some buildings began sporting splotches of graffiti and others were decked in gaudy neon signs. But it was still relatively clean and bright here. A few levels down, it was another story, but that wasn't where they were going.

It's strange, Vader mused. The last time Padmé called me a 'funny little boy,' I was actually small, but wasn't trying to be funny. But this time I'm not little, though I was trying to be funny. Weird…

A few blocks away from their goal, a scuffle broke out on the crowded streets that they just couldn't manage to avoid. Vader was shoved aside and crashed into a stand that sold magazines, tabloids, and some news-faxes, knocking several stacks of the things down. Embarrassed, he hurriedly helped the irritated stand owner, a rather obese Sullustan, gather up the scattered papers. However, just as he was replacing the last dropped copy of the Coruscanti Times, a picture caught his eye.

Who is that, he squinted, studying the slightly blurry picture. Wait…wait a minute… That-that's me! His eyes widened in recognition as he determined the picture was taken sometime during the deployment just before Muunilinst. What the heck am I doing in a news-fax?

Really, his picture had no business being in a news publication of any kind. He was always alert for skulking reporters and avoided them like the plague. Fame and notoriety was not something he particularly craved. Sometimes he didn't mind, like when he won the Boonta Eve Classic when he was nine, but most of the time he felt it was just one big crazy hassle that he could easily do without.

Scowling, he started the read the article that went along with the picture to see just what the heck this was all about. However he was interrupted by the stand owner who insisted that if he was going to read it, he'd better by it. Annoyed, Vader fished a few credits out and paid for the thing so he could read it unmolested.

…MYSTERY JEDI? While reporting on T'ignah, this reporter came across a most interesting Jedi Padawan. He seemed to hide when other reporters appeared seeking pictures and interviews, yet this reporter managed to snap this single photo of the elusive young hero. For in spite of his camera-shyness, this Jedi is truly brave when it counts.

This reporter watched as this particular Padawan single-handedly turned the tide during a surprise Separatist assault. He rallied the troops and directed them in a series of brilliant maneuvers that crushed the advancing droid army. Without his amazing, bold leadership, the Republic's line would've surely folded.

Yet, when the reporter sought to interview this Padawan, he seemed to vanish into thing air. And when this reporter tried to seek information from other Jedi concerning this mysterious Padawan, they either claimed not to know who he was, or merely refused to speak of him. This reporter couldn't even learn his name.

So who is this young Jedi? Where else has he served? What else has he done? Who is he? This hero with no fear?…

Vader was horrified beyond words. All his hiding from reporters and avoiding attention had been for naught. And now there was this hideous article and blurry picture – on the front page no less! – of a respected and widely circulated news-fax. He was doomed.

"What are you reading?" Obi-Wan asked, materializing out of the crowd.

He didn't answer. He couldn't. He was too busy bemoaning his fate.

Obi-Wan peered over his shoulder and skimmed the article curiously. "Oh…oh my!" He laughed. "Oh-oh I'm sorry!"

"My life…is officially…over." Vader moaned.

"It's not that bad," Obi-Wan chuckled. "It could very well be worse."

"Ugh," Vader groaned, hanging his head in despair.

"Relax," Obi-Wan smiled. "Now hang onto that, we'll frame it and then we can laugh at it later when this whole mess is over."

"Frame it?" Vader sputtered. "I'd rather burn it!"

Obi-Wan only shook his head and gently removed the slightly crinkled news-fax from Vader's tense grasp. "Come now, let's keep going," he chuckled.

Vader glared at the offending news-fax that Obi-Wan had taken from him, but did as he was told. While the article really pissed him off, there really wasn't anything he could do about it. He might as well forget about it and try to enjoy himself at lunch.

Hero with no fear…what sort of crap is that anyway?