You have been warned.

VI: Plans and Appointments

Queen Amidala completed preparations for one of the only semi-spontaneous things she would ever do in her life. She turned once more to Governor Sio Bibble.

"Are you sure everything will be allright?" she asked him. Bibble, who often felt more like a father to Amidala than an aid, placed his hands on her shoulders and smiled.

"Don't worry, your highness. You are long overdue for a rest, and with the present state of things here - peace negotiations well under way and Senator Palpatine as Chancellor - there is no reason for you to remain here. Go. Enjoy yourself." The young queen smiled gratefully and boarded her J-type 327 Royal Nubian Starship. It was traditional for the ruler of Naboo to take a vacation once yearly, yet in Amidala's two year reign, she had not yet taken advantage of this. Her decision to leave so suddenly had been the result of two things, the first of which had occurred that morning.

Early in the day, while hearing a case between two land owners over a matter of property lines and a rather large tree, something inside her had snapped. Amidala had lost her temper with the two supplicants, upbraiding them for bringing such a trivial matter before the throne, and finally shuffling their request to a regional governor. She had known then that a vacation had become necessary.

Amidala had briefly considered an on-planet furlough, thinking perhaps of taking a trip up north to see the famed Irialdee Mountains, or maybe visiting the swamps and her many Gungan friends.

Seven hours later, she was in outer space.

She had decided to go to Coruscant. There were many logical resons for this. Firstly, while it was true that she was on vacation, she did not simply cease to be the Queen of Naboo. There were many political matters she could deal with on Coruscant, not the least of which was a cordial visit with Palpatine. After the affair with Valorum, Amidala did not feel overly fond of the new Chancellor; however, she knew that she owed him at least that much. And then, there was Anakin.

When contacting the council to arrange her visit, Amidala had heard a rumor that Anakin was in trouble. Calling Obi-Wan, she had found this to be true; Ani was being punished for beign out alone after curfew. Amidala smiled. Perhaps a visit to Coruscant would be refreshing - for them both.

***

Obi-Wan stood over Anakin, thoroughly enjoying the thrilled surprise on the boy's face.

"Really? You mean it?"

"Yes, Ani. I do."

"YIPEEE!" Shouted the boy, and leaving the bucket where it lay, ran to his room to change.

Obi-Wan watched him go with a smile on his face. He was glad that he'd been able to arrange this night for the boy. Ani had worked so hard in the last month - the Jedi Council agreed his attitude had been wonderful. Not one complaint. So, as a small reward, he had been given one night - and one only - to visit with Queen Amidala. She was arriving in approximately two hours.

Obi-Wan had really wanted to give Ani this chance. A Jedi's life was such a hard one, such a solitary existence, especially as one grew older. He would not want Ani to miss out on the treasure of friendship while it was still available to him.

Obi-Wan could not see himself; if he had, he might have wondered why the young, healthy man before him looked so sad.

Kenobi would not admit to himself why his heart was heavy. He would not admit that his thoughts now dwelled almost constantly with another.

Obi-Wan picked up Ani's forgotten bucket and began to trudge down the hall, mentally retreating deeper into himself and sloshing bits of soapy water over the side as he did so. Of course, the only reason he had set up Ani's meeting with the Queen was for Ani's sake. It had nothing to do with the fact that they were planning to meet in the spacious residence where Morru was staying. Nothing at all.

Obi-Wan grimaced and restrained himself from kicking the door frame as he walked into his room. Such action would not be befitting to a Jedi Knight.

Morru was never cold to him, never hostile; she had just made it perfectly clear that she was not interested.

"I don't enjoy being known," she had said to him one night when the moon put fire in her eyes. "I don't even think I want to get married." Well, that was fine. Obi-Wan didn't want to get married, either; he was out to follow in Qui-Gon's footsteps, and that meant a life dedicated solely to the study of the Force, to the service of others. Marriage did not enter into the picture. And with a woman as naturally strong and intelligent as Morru, why, she could probably handle being alone. Like the Jedi so often were.

Obi-Wan did not want to admit to himself that he was falling in love.

***

Palpatine promenaded out of the building, another successful Senate meeting under his belt. That is to say, he had left them in a state of complete chaos. Small rumors (unconnected with himself, of course) had been artfully sown here and there by wagging tongues before the meeting; none of them meant much, really, but altogether they left a nasty taste in the mind of the hearer. They had added fire to the already smoldering fuel left in ex-Chancellor Valorum's disgraced wake. Palpatine smiled. Indeed, it had been a most profitable day.

And now, off to his next appointment.

He had discovered through his many sources that Amidala had deigned to visit Coruscant for her vacation, and decided that he owed her a visit. She was his queen, after all. Perhaps he would even be fortunate enough to find young Skywalker in the vicinity; the boy positively doted on her highness. Hm. Blind love - not a good thing in the heart of a future Sith. We must work on that, Palpatine thought to himself, and then abruptly stopped walking.

This was the first time since Maul's return that he had allowed himself to think of Anakin Skywalker in this way. Palpatine meditatively sucked his lower lip and scowled. This was a dilemma.

There had to be some way to resolve this situation with little or no danger to himself. Palpatine had been concerned ever since his discovery of Maul's survival. Something had happened to him on Naboo... what was, he could not be sure. If he had not known any better, he would say that somehow, his apprentice's midichlorian count had actually been increased.

Such a thing was impossible, of course. No one could increase or decrease the amount of midichlorians one had at birth; whatever the count was at six months, that's what it was for the rest of one's life.

So what had happened?

Palpatine hesitated to admit it to himself, but Maul's power was growing exponentially. He had felt it the moment he walked in to see his ailing apprentice one month ago, and had felt it even more so on his successive visitations. Thus far, any fear or surprise had been carefully concealed by disgust at defeat by a Padawan, but he knew that Maul would not stay unaware of it forever. And once he became aware of it...

Something had to be done.

Maul could pose a threat to him. Not much of one - Sidious was still the master, after all, and would be victorious - but if Maul took it into his head to try to strike him down, for any reason, there could be trouble.

Palpatine had difficulty imagining how he would explain in the Senate meetings how exactly he had lost an arm.

Palpatine pursed his lips as he perused his options. Perhaps there was a way to take care of both problems, that of Maul and that of Skywalker. Perhaps they could be made to play against one other.

The wheels of his mind turning furiously, Palpatine boarded his transport and order the droid driver to take him back home. It was time he gave Lord Maul something to do.

***

Darth Maul kept his cloak low over his face as he walked through the thronging marketplace. Confident and powerful he was, yes, but not stupid. There were likely still individuals here who could identify him by sight, and he could not allow that to happen. Not just yet. Although he had to admit that seeing the surprised look on that twit Padawan's face before ripping it from his skull would be very satisfying indeed. But that was for later.

Maul discarded thoughts of the doomed Padawan and continued to troll the marketplace in more pleasurable pursuits. It had been well over a month, after all.

Walking purposefully, Maul slowed his pace and allowed his presence to bloom. Just enough to be irresistible. The imminent danger of alerting those Jedi fools to his presence only made the prize sweeter.

The effect was immediate. Women he passed (and some men as well, but that did not concern him) seemed to be drawn to him, unconsciously allowing themselves to brush his robes, snatching sideways glances in a vain attempt to see under his hood, some (if weak enough) overcome completely and simply stopping where they were to stare.

Such displays sickened him. After all this time of pampered captivity, sucking on bitter failure and waiting for revenge, he craved challenge. These people around him meant nothing, were nothing; sheep, every one of them. This erotic side-benefit of immersion in the Dark Side may have fascinated him during his pubescent years, but now only bored him.

His eyes roamed to and fro among the evening shoppers, looking for a lover worthy of his mettle.

Patience was an attribute of the true Sith, according to the writings of Darth Bane; he would wait until he had found the right toy. And then, if she were willing, so much the better. If she were not... Too bad. She would learn. Maul suppressed a wicked smile; most women did.

Only moments into the hunt, he found exactly what he had been looking for. A young woman stepped out of the shadows not two doorways ahead of him. Long, dark hair, highlighted red and gold in the setting suns; alabaster skin tinted with rose; a luxuriously feminine shape, yet she moved with that unique solid grace which bespoke strength and agility. Delectable.

Oh, and here was a wonderful surprise: she was wearing a Jedi temple-worker's robe.

The evening could not possibly get any better than this.

***

Morru stepped out of the shop entrance, thanking the shop-keeper kindly for his help. She had finally been able to obtain the herbs Mace Windu had asked for, although she felt as though she'd had to hit every such store within a ten mile radius. Sometimes it seemed he gave her these requests just to be difficult; his dislike for her seemed to grow on a daily basis. She sighed; this was only one of the many growing reasons why she was hoping to seek employment outside the Jedi Temple. Who knew? Maybe she would not even stay on Coruscant. One benefit of having no ties was that there was nothing to keep one from simply picking up and drifting away with the dust on the street.

Morru turned to go home and nearly ran into someone.

"Oh, excuse me," she said, although it clearly was not her fault - this hooded fellow had been standing so closely to her he could probably smell her hair cleanser. And then she looked up into his eyes.

Some say that attraction is implicit in silence, in mystery; others say that wanton animal abandon contains true appeal. Before her, cloaked in darkness, stood both.

"Good evening," he purred in a voice that made her toes curl.

"Uh..." Morru shook her head, clearing it. She had worked too hard and stayed pure too long to simply lose her mind over some stranger in the street. "Hello," she managed to say without too much breathiness. "Um, excuse me." She willed herself to walk around him, go home, start supper cooking.

She stayed exactly where she was.

Maul continued to smile. This woman was even more lovely than he'd thought; her eyes were like violet jewels.

"Fascinating," he purred. Morru blinked.

"What?" she asked, feeling rooted to the spot by the intensity of his gaze.

"You are," he said simply.

Morru stepped back. "Thank you," she said, her voice sounding slightly more normal. Maul leaned closer.

"What is your name?" he said.

Morru focused herself, making her lungs work normally, trying to forget what his warm breath felt like on her face, simply letting her mind drift somewhere else. Well, in truth it was more like taking a broom and thwacking it elsewhere with all her might, but the effect was the same. She regained control of herself.

"Excuse me," she said again, not answering him. "I need to go home." And, with that, Morru S'mec walked around him and away.

Maul momentarily considered going after her, perhaps grabbing her by that lovely hair of hers and forcing her into some dark alley, working his will on her and leaving her for dead. But no... that would be cheating. She was, after all, a temple worker. They would meet again. And when they did...

It was probably just a combination of his natural impatience and his competitiveness, but on the spur of the moment he decided to take someone else for tonight instead. Enticing a young, blond, waif-like thing was a work of two moments, and he pulled her into an emptied carpenter shop and began to relieve his frustration there.

His mind, however, dwelled on the temple worker, and the fact that she had spurned him. He snarled at the very thought of it, and his present female - a weak thing, pale in comparison to what he really wanted, moaned as though in deep pain.

The quivering of her thighs and the flush in her cheeks would seem to indicate otherwise.

The girl cried out again as he growled, thrusting himself into her ever harder, seeing the Temple worker's hair and imagining what it would feel like to tangle it in his fingers and pull until she screamed. The girl beneath him moaned as his pace picked up yet again, tears streaming down her cheeks, yet in spite of herself, clinging to him as though for dear life, her nails digging into his broad back, her hips moving ever so slightly against his own in a futile attempt to drive him further into herself.

That Temple worker would pay, thought he as he bit the girl's breast - no one refused the Sith without penalty. And NO one, not even a friend of Jedi, refused Darth Maul.

The girl cried out again.

Disgusting. This female was no challenge at all, neither for his physical nor his mental prowess. From that point on, Maul did almost nothing that did not bruise or draw blood. And in spite of herself, the girl moaned and clung to him, willing him not to stop, never to stop, though it slay her.

His own voice rose in a roar to completely encompass the girl's own scream as, overcome with the unspeakable acts in his imagination, he climaxed.

And then it was over.

The girl lay on the table, a puddle of semen between her still-open legs, unmoving. Her bare chest rose and fell in shudders and gasps, quivering with the tension of something beyond orgasm and past the shock of broken spirit.

Pathetic.

Without looking back, Maul re-donned his belt and cloak - the only items he had removed during this small diversion - and left, only partially sated.

He sighed. Well. He had wanted a challenge. It looked as though he had found one.

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