Darth Maul Watches Bad Cable
"...and in our replay of last year's championship we return to the main hall and Master Yoda who is an hour into his attempt to levitate a three ton x-wing fighter for a record four hours twenty six minutes..."
"...this adorable six inch high 'Little Lost Padawan' statuette made of genuine hand cast resin, painted with genuine 20 carat gold effect accents and a realistic nylon braid you can really plait! Just think what an addition to your home this charming little..."
"...as we go deeper into the underground habitat of the persecuted and misunderstood Tatooinian womp-rat..."
"...watch out evildoers! It's the Teenage Padawan Crimefightin' Rollerbladers!..."
"...tremble in fear as you watch... when Ewoks attack!..."
"... here, live on Coruscant Music Television, the new boy-band that's claiming the hearts of pre-teenage girls all over the planet, it's the New Kids on Coruscant!"
".. sufferin' sarlaccs, JediMan!..."
"...make your own delicious meat-free kitty snacks..."
(click!) (click!) (click!)
My Apprentice twitched restlessly in her sleep as Darth Maul snarled and stabbed the "channel plus" button on his remote with unnecessary violence. His PlayStation had yet again been fried to a cinder and he was without the cash to buy a new one. It had turned out that even Qui-Gon's recently purloined and seemingly limitless charge card could be maxed out, and until those fools at Alderaan Express doubled the Jedi's credit limit again he would just have to make his own entertainment. But wait... what was this?
"...in just five minutes' time," breathed the announcer, "The continuing adventures of Darth Lara Croft in Darth Lara Croft on the Steaming Sauna Planet of the Bondage Mistresses..."
A feral grin spread its way across Darth Maul's face as he halted his furious channel hopping. Finally! Something worth watching on the pathetic budget cable package that Darth Sidious had so grudgingly provided for him!
"Oh my. It's so hot on this sauna planet..." Darth Lara Croft panted seductively onscreen. "I guess I'm going to have to take everything off except my underwear..."
Maul's grin grew wider and nastier. This more than made up for a miserable night at The Grey Side of the Force yesterday, watching his perky Padawan next door neighbor, Obi-Wan, make out with that decrepit master of his before starting home for an "early night." Not that he cared about the little creep or anything. He glared at My Apprentice, daring her to mention the word "denial" in his presence again. Luckily his cat had fallen back into a deep slumber and had missed the opportunity to goad her master.
"Curse you, Bondage Mistress!" Darth Lara Croft seethed sweatily. "When I'm free of these furry handcuffs you will pay dearly for capturing me, dressing me in this leather bikini and having your muscular, oiled and well-endowed love slaves drag me to your well-equipped and completely sound-proofed playroom."
Yes! Yes! Yes! Darth Maul punched the air. He could hardly believe his luck. Finally, a Saturday evening with something worth watching on TV! He leaned forward, eyes fixed on his set. Unfortunately most of the action on the trailer seemed to be hidden by the credits, but in five minutes, everything would be revealed! Who cared about the idiot Padawan next door with the aging hippy fixation? Not Maul! He was about to get some serious on-screen action! Five minutes... just time to punch through the fragile dividing wall that separated his apartment from Obi-Wan's and "borrow" a few bottles of Obi-Wan's beer. Then he was set for the night...
But wait... The voice-over had returned. What was it saying? "That film in just five minutes... on our Premium Pay Channel Coruscant Adult Movies Platinum. Meanwhile, here on the Coruscant Oldies But Goodies channel we have another classic movie for you. It's the hilarious Jedi Academy VIII - Padawans on Patrol, starting just after the break..."
With a paint-blistering scream of rage, Darth Maul hurled his remote at the set, although his aim was spoiled by the red mist that had descended in front of his eyes. My Apprentice, roused from her slumber, glared sourly at her master as the remote hit the wall and disintegrated.
"Excellent, excellent!" came a familiar voice from Maul's doorway. "The cut-rate selection of cable channels I have made available to you is doing an excellent job of honing your hatred. At this rate you'll be ready to strike me down in no time!"
Maul turned to his newly arrived master with a feral snarl. "I must have Coruscant Platinum, Master! And a real sports channel with Hutt wrestling and Pod-Racing! How can I be corrupted by the flagrant sex and violence in today's top movie releases when all this channel shows is pathetic Jedi Academy movies?! How can I glory in wanton suffering and destruction of life and property when all you allow me is Coruscant Sports 4 - the Jedi Health and Fitness Channel!?"
Darth Sidious rubbed his hands together. "But I feel that the channels you have available to you will hone your rage even more, my apprentice. Do you doubt the value of my training techniques?"
"I... MUST... HAVE... PREMIUM CHANNELS!!" Maul screamed hoarsely at his master. A small jet of steam emerged from each ear.
"Ungrateful apprentice," Sidious said with a sadistic grin. "You should be happy that I bribed the cable installer to hook you up to Obi-Wan's cable connection at all. Where's your appreciation? If it wasn't for me, all you'd have would be Coruscant PBS."
"Sith do not appreciate what they have!" Maul snarled. "Ingratitude is part of the job description - it's in the handbook! I demand that you give me premium channels!"
"But Sith Masters never give in to demands," Sidious countered with an oily smirk. "Or to pitiful pleas for mercy. Or ever, in fact. That's in the handbook too, if I recall correctly."
The handbook had ended up underneath the couch during a rare cleaning up session several weeks before. It nervously shuffled further into the darkness as almost visible currents of rage and raw smugness swirled malevolently through the room.
Coward, My Apprentice directed at it scornfully.
The handbook mentally agreed. It was staying well out of this
"But no matter. Your rant has inspired me greatly," Sidious continued. "I was merely going to send you to the video store at 10.45pm so that you could hone your anger on the sub-standard range of 'classic movies', cheap foreign imports, direct to video rip-offs, kiddy films and three-season-old Friends episodes that remained on the shelves. However I sense that with careful nurturing your rage will reach new heights tonight. I see that you have destroyed your remote, so I command you to spend the rest of the evening watching... hmm, let me see. Ah yes. The 'Lifestyle and Living' channel! Then maybe you will truly appreciate what your Master has provided for you!"
He raised a clawed hand and purple lightning shot out of his fingers towards the cable connector. There was a "zap" from the apartment next door, and a muffled yelp. Sidious allowed himself an internal snigger of satisfaction at this unforeseen bonus.
Maul didn't even notice. He was staring at the TV with horror. From the tinny speaker wholesome music swelled. There was a farm. It was set among rolling grassy fields. Healthy blond children played in the sunshine.
"Aha. It appears to be The Organas of Alderaan in Boonta Eve on Organa Mountain," Sidious observed with some relish. He rubbed his hands together. "The perfect start to your evening's viewing, apprentice."
Darth Maul gaped at his master. For a few, frozen moments he could think of nothing to say. Then; "NoooooOOOOooooo!" he screamed.
"But never say that I am not merciful," Sidious continued. "There is an alternative, apprentice. Call the cable company. Get them to upgrade Qui-Gon's cable package... if you can! BWAHAHAhahahahah!!"
"Revel in your sadism while you are still able," Maul snarled. The red mist had started to descend again. "Maybe today is the day you go too far, old man. Maybe today will be the day I strike you down!"
Sidious waved a dismissive hand. "Yeah, right. In your dreams, horn-boy. Now, I'm going out. Yoda found a new biker bar in the sub-levels and he's invited some selected Jedi Masters and a few old friends from the Senate to meet him there. The opportunity to obtain blackmail material is just too good to miss and it's the perfect venue to show off my purple crushed velvet jumpsuit. Don't wait up."
Fuming with rage, Maul dialed the cable company number. Much to his surprise, he managed to get through to a live operator almost straight away. Surely his master couldn't have set him a task this easy? Disillusionment was to come quickly.
"Welcome to Coruscant Cable packages are you! Yoda my name is. Help you how may I?" asked an all-too-familiar voice.
"Aren't you supposed to be at a biker bar in the sub-levels?" Maul demanded suspiciously.
"There I will be, young one," Yoda said. "Indeed, the floor show I am! But why so curious are you? Interested, are you, in such things?"
"No," Maul growled. "My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. I wish you to upgrade the cable service to my apartment. I demand that you provide me with all the movie channels, all the sports channels and Coruscant Adult Movies Platinum."
"Ah!" Yoda said wisely. "Then interested you are in such things! Perhaps a kindred spirit have I found! Wasting yourself on Qui-Gon Jinn you have been. Your undergarments you must describe to me, young Padawan."
"You will grant me access to these channels tonight!" Maul declared. He channeled all the power of the dark side of the force against the wizened Jedi master at the end of the line. "And you will charge them to Qui-Gon Jinn's account!"
"Ah. Impetuous, you are," Yoda scolded. "Know you that the whammy does not on Master Yoda work, young Jedi. Whammying people before you were born, Master Yoda was."
"Give me the channels I desire or I shall reveal myself to you and strike you down!" Maul roared into the receiver.
"Foolish be not, young Padawan," Yoda said, waving an unseen finger. "Revealed to you this your studies should have. Premium cable channels a path to the dark side are. Watching premium channels leads to eyestrain. Eyestrain leads to tense, nervous headaches. Tense nervous headaches lead to excessive consumption of over the counter pain remedies. Excessive consumption of over the counter pain remedies leads to indigestion. Indigestion leads to irritability. Irritability leads to anger, anger leads to hatred..."
"Be silent!" Maul snarled. He involuntarily ripped a hole in his "Sith Lords Kick Ass" T-shirt in frustration. "I care not about turning to the Dark Side! Just the Coruscant Adult Movies Platinum Channel!"
"Foolish it is, young Obi-Wan, to disguise your voice but to give your own name," Yoda reproved mournfully. "A cry for help is this. Hear more of this your master Qui-Gon shall. Tell him I most certainly will, when at the Biker Bar I see him and Master Windu. Although started already they may well have. Like rabbits they go at it when a few drinks they have had. Most unseemly, it is. Although one to speak I am most certainly not."
"To your supervisor I demand... I mean, I demand to speak to your supervisor!" Maul said through gritted teeth.
"Ah. No supervisor is there, young Padawan. Watching Darth Lara Croft on the Steaming Sauna Planet of the Bondage Mistresses is he. Attractive for a human female Darth Lara Croft is. Although how she stays upright not certain am I. Uncertain am I too that furry handcuffs should in such a manner be used..."
Maul growled in unrestrained fury and slammed the telephone down. It was going to be one of those days.
"You know, even though we can't afford expensive Boonta Eve presents for each other, I think we're the richest family on the whole of Organa mountain," silver-haired old Grandpa Organa said as he sat in his rocking chair smoking his pipe.
"Senile old fool," Maul muttered.
"You're right, Grandpa Organa!" cried his little grand-daughter. "Oh Grandpa, I was wrong to want a new Darth Lara Croft doll when we have everything we really need right here! I think we must be the luckiest people in the whole wide world!"
"I think you must be the stupidest people in the whole wide world," Maul snarled sullenly.
"Hey, everybody!" cried a blonde youth in mud-stained dungarees. "Daisy's going to make it! It looks as if we're going to have brand new twin baby banthas in the family for Boonta day!"
"Does this mean we're not going to have to sell the farm, Grandpa Organa?" the dark haired girl asked hopefully.
"Maybe you're all going to 'buy the farm' instead, you pathetic idiots," Maul grated. His fingers twitched for the remote or his lightsaber, whichever came to hand first. Sidious had been right about one thing. His hatred truly was reaching new heights.
"That's right, little Leia," Grandpa said, reaching down to ruffle her hair. "And it means we'll be able to afford presents for the orphans after all!"
"Oh John-Boy Organa what wonderful news!" Leia exclaimed. "This is the best Boonta Eve ever! Let's have a big Organa family group hug!"
"Let's have a big Organa family group massacre," Maul snarled venomously. His words had little effect on the fuzzy aura of wholesomeness emanating from his TV.
"I know, children!" Grandpa cried. "Let's all gather round the Boonta Eve tree and sing Boonta Eve carols of thankfulness! And let's invite all our friends and neighbors to join us!"
"Even crotchety old Mr. Hutt from the general store, Grandpa Organa?" John-Boy asked with wide eyes.
Grandpa ruffled his hair too. "Especially him, John-Boy Organa. Sometimes people seem bad-tempered when they're really just lonely and unhappy. In fact, why don't you invite him over for Boonta Eve supper? There's plenty of food for everyone!"
There was a faint tap on the door, then another. Maul, slumped miserably in front of the heart-warming climax of Boonta Eve on Organa Mountain, gritted his teeth and ignored it. When the Sith ruled the galaxy, he decided, Alderaan was going to be the first to go. Somewhere in the far depths of the cosmos, a note was made on the unrolling pages of future history...
There was a third tap, this time louder.
It's your boyfriend from next door, My Apprentice informed him cattily. Maul snarled at her, but his heart wasn't in it.
Obi-Wan stood there, looking red-eyed and tearful. "Hi, neighbor!", he sniffled. "For some reason I've lost my cable connection. I was wondering if I could come over and watch yours? I bought some wine and I made us cookies for us to share."
"Go away," Maul snapped. The last thing he needed on this night of all nights was the company of the pathetic Padawan from next door.
Obi-Wan bit back another sniffle. "Actually, I needed someone to talk to. I had an argument with Qui-Gon. It was silly really. He said he loved me more, then I said no, I loved him more. Then he said no, he loved me much more than I loved him, then I said it wasn't possible for anyone to love anyone more than I loved him, then he said he was my Master, and if he said he loved me more he didn't expect any argument from me about it. Then I said..."
Maul seized the bottle and the cookies and slammed the door in the babbling Padawan's face. He was halfway to the couch when a sudden, evil thought struck him. Obi-Wan was already a quivering wreck. An evening's viewing of the Lifestyle and Living channel might just be enough to drive his insipid Jedi neighbor towards a complete emotional breakdown.
Denial-boy strikes again! crowed My Apprentice. Maul glared at his cat and wrenched the door back open.
"...and after that he said he was going round to see Mace Windu and I shouldn't bother to wait up!" Obi-Wan dissolved in a flood of tears and flung himself into his neighbor's reluctant arms.
Maul ground his teeth. It was going to be a *long* evening.
The cookies had "OW 4 QG" designs baked onto them. Maul bit into one sullenly.
Boonta Eve was thankfully over. Now the TV was showing a strange commercial that was something to do with blue liquid and wings, and happy women on roller-skates being pulled along by dogs. Maybe it was something to do with mind-control potions for pets. At least that was the only explanation that seemed remotely likely to Maul. He wondered if it worked on cats too.
Obi-Wan was opening the bottle of wine with the corkscrew attachment on his lightsaber. "Oh Maul, I know you're only doing this to cheer me up because you think Lifestyle and Living is my favorite channel," he sniffled. "But whatever you want to watch is okay with me too."
Maul snarled. "My master had commanded me to watch this drivel," he bit out resentfully. "For twisted purposes known only to himself. And this is my only TV set, so sit down and be silent, otherwise leave this place!"
His tone of voice was appropriately Sithly and his words forbidding, but Obi-Wan immediately took them as an invitation to snuggle up beside him on the ratty, crumb-covered couch.
"Did I miss the end of Boonta Eve on Organa Mountain?" he inquired. Maul ground his teeth again; they were getting quite a workout.
"It's finished," he muttered.
"Wow. Then it must almost be time for the double-bill!" Obi-Wan said with a happy sniff. "I didn't know you were a fan of Ewok made for TV movies as well. Oh Maul, the more I learn about you, the more it turns out we have in common!"
Darth Maul stiffened. "What do you mean, Ewok made for TV movies?" he asked in a low, dangerous snarl.
"Didn't you know?" Obi-Wan said, laying his head comfortably on Maul's shoulder. "Made for TV movies are Endor's principle export. It all started when a wildlife documentary team came to Endor to film Ewoks in their natural habitat. They were just so photogenic that soon every wildlife documentary maker in the Republic was booking passage to Endor. Eventually someone hit on the idea of giving the Ewoks cameras themselves and just letting them get on with it. In two weeks they'd written and filmed Forest of Freedom, the story of a young Ewok separated from his family at birth and forced to live with a cruel foster-family who runs away and tries to find his true parents."
He peered at the screen. Maul ground his teeth once more.
"I think this film is Slave of the Forest," Obi-Wan continued. "As far as I can remember it's the story of a brave young Ewok mother whose baby is sold into slavery by cruel hunters and she has to get him back before she dies of a terminal illness, but first she has to save her tribe by convincing everyone that a deadly tornado is going to hit her forest, only nobody believes her, just like when she was in high school and all the popular girls wouldn't let her be a cheerleader because she was too fat, even though it was really because of her glands."
I'm going to kill myself, Maul decided. But first I'm going to kill my Master, then I'm going to kill every single Ewok I can get my hands on, and then I'm going to kill Obi-Wan. Although I may just handcuff him and torture him a bit instead.
Deniiiial came the thought from very nearby.
You're one to talk, Maul directed sourly at My Apprentice, who was sprawled upside down on Obi-Wan's lap purring blissfully as he rubbed her upturned tummy.
I'm merely using him. The idiot Jedi has talented fingers. Not that I need to tell you that, of course.
Maul seethed silently. He wondered if any masters had ever struck down their apprentices. It happened all the time, probably. On the TV, the lilting pan-pipe soundtrack of the film began to play.
Two hours later...
Maul sat on the sofa, his face set into a rictus of horror. The movie had been worse than anything he could have imagined. As cloying as eating an entire king-sized bag of marshmallows at one sitting. The cute, furry Ewoks. The big brown eyes, the over-acting, the self-righteously sentimental storylines... His fingers had driven small holes into the arm of his sofa where he had gripped the upholstery in a desperate attempt to save his sanity. Oh, his master had outdone himself this time. One thing was for sure, Maul decided. Sidious was going to die slowly for this.
Obi-Wan was crying shamelessly into his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he sobbed. "I always do this when I watch Ewok movies. When I think of that poor, brave little Ewok mother giving up her freedom so her only son could escape the cruel trappers and roam free in the forests..."
Maul grimaced. He had to admit that it was true. The manipulative little bears were incredibly addictive viewing. Surely, this was yet another subtle manifestation of the dark side. With a guilty start he remembered the reason why he had bought Obi-Wan into his apartment in the first place.
"Never mind," he growled menacingly. "There, there. Have some more wine. And some more cookies. Wallow in the empty comfort of high calorie foods and sense-deadening alcohol until you become a bloated emotional cripple."
Obi-Wan looked up at him with limpid, tear-filled eyes. "It's kind of you to be so concerned about me, Maul, but you don't have to worry. I have one of those metabolisms where I never put on weight no matter how much I eat. I don't get hangovers either, apparently it's one of those genetic things."
Maul growled involuntarily under his breath. Sidious had remarked only a few days before that he was starting to develop a spare tire. Mention had been made of the hate-honing potential of attending Weight-Watchers.
"Of course it's not like that in real life," Obi-Wan continued obliviously. "Endor, I mean. You read so many tragic stories about the Ewok film industry. The drug abuse, the plastic surgery, the wild Wookiee love slave orgies... But when you see a film like this, it makes it all seem worthwhile somehow."
Definitely a manifestation of the dark side, Maul decided, as a sudden grudging respect for the Ewoks was kindled within him. Perhaps these miserable creatures had potential after all. Maybe they should be allowed to live... He mentally scanned back through the last two hours' viewing and shook his head decisively. Nah.
"The Sith will be revenged on you for this evening, Ewoks!" he vowed inwardly. "When we destroy the Jedi we will find some sadistic way of incorporating you and your feeble and primitive world into our twisted plans for galactic domination!"
And on the increasingly full pages of the cosmic diary, yet another appointment was made...
On-screen, the pan-pipes were finally, thankfully, fading out. "...we hope you enjoyed our movie, sponsored by Dartha Stewart ready-mix cakes and desserts," said the voice-over. "Remember, with Dartha Stewart products, you just add water. There's no need to feel guilty. Your family will never know the difference. And don't forget, a vote for Palpatine is a vote for order. Now, coming up is the second film in our Ewok double bill, right after these commercials for feminine hygiene products."
"Oh Maul, you're going to love this one," Obi-Wan said mistily. "It's Prisoner of the Leaves where a brave young Ewok mother is put in prison after being framed for a crime she didn't commit, where she meets the twin sister she was separated from at birth and helps her overcome her drinking problem and in the process finds a way to forgive her father after he abandoned their family after winning the Endorian lottery and left them living in a bush so her mother had to work in a bar and everybody at school laughed at her because she couldn't afford nice clothes. It's a classic."
The lilting music began anew...
Maul gritted his teeth, not certain that he could stand another two hours of the hellish torture that was the Ewok made-for-TV-movie double bill. He concentrated his anger on ways in which he would maim and torture the fuzzy little freaks when the time came for him to reveal himself, but the sheer cuteness was overwhelming. It was like a cloying, suffocating, fuzzy blanket.
Then there was the added distraction of Obi-Wan, who was so caught up in the movie that he was clearly completely unaware that he was absent-mindedly nuzzling Maul's neck, nibbling his ear and occasionally lavishing a series of licks, nips and delicate butterfly kisses on the nearest accessible horn. Another red mist rose before Maul's eyes, although this time it was not rage-related. Other things were also rising, although located in regions lower.
Oh yes, Maul decided. One more lick, one more nuzzle, and he was going to give in to his darker side, grab his sweet and innocent neighbor by his cute little braid, throw him on the bed and...
"Maul?" Obi-Wan said shyly. "I know you're enjoying the movie, but if you feel like something stronger to drink, Qui-Gon has a secret stock of Old Hoth brandy next door he thinks I don't know about. It's under the bed next to the locked box that clinks and smells of strawberry massage oil, the one he only ever gets out when Mace Windu comes round for one of their private 'discipline meditations'..."
Maul snarled. The last of his control had gone. Oh yes, it was ravishing time all right. And what was the Padawan burbling about now?
Obi-Wan was absently walking his fingers slowly up Maul's thigh. "I... I don't think I can be alone tonight, Maul."
Anybody watching in the hall outside Maul's apartment would have seen the door burst open and its red and black tattooed occupant charge past, a beige clad Padawan slung over his shoulder. A moment later, they would have seen the same, growling figure charge back into his own apartment, still carrying the Padawan. A moment after that, they would have heard the sound of a can-opener, and a noise suspiciously like an opened can of salmon being thrown down in front of a TV set.
Another moment and they would have seen Maul's door burst open again and the encumbered Sith apprentice emerging with a snarl for a second time and aiming a violent kick at Obi-Wan's thankfully unlocked door. And then they would have decided to find somewhere a bit less noisy to hang around. It probably wasn't surprising that rents for study bedrooms were dropping all the time on that particular floor of Padawan Towers.
Back in Maul's apartment, My Apprentice slipped out from under the couch and curled up in front of the set. She narrowed her eyes at the screen. Changing the channel with your mind was childishly simple once you had the hang of it. She nibbled daintily at her salmon, and narrowed her eyes as an old Tim and Larry cartoon unrolled in front of her. She focused her thoughts on Tim the cartoon cat.
That's right! Feel your rage! Give in to the dark side! Strike the mouse down!
Millions of children all over Coruscant watched in fascination as for the first time in recorded history, Tim the cat pounced on Larry the mouse and bit his head off. My Apprentice rolled over with a purr of satisfaction and went back to sleep as outraged parents across the planet started ringing Coruscant Cable to complain. Meat free kitty treats indeed. Oh yes, revenge was sweet.
Maul woke with a sinking feeling of deja-vu, the end of a braid in his mouth and his face nestled into a familiar, spiky yet soft head of hair. Vague images swam behind his eyes. Ewok made for TV movies, drinking most of a bottle of brandy, forcing the lock on the mysterious box under Qui-Gon's bed, strawberry scented massage oil...
He spat out the braid with a disgusted "ptooi!"
"Oh Maul, that was the best ever," Obi-Wan said as he stretched blissfully and pulled Maul's arms tightly around his body. "And the things you did with those furry handcuffs..."
Maul growled something incoherent. Sith did not do mornings, it was in the handbook. Thankfully at the moment there was a knock at the door.
Obi-Wan disentangled himself, and kissed the tip of Maul's nose. "Just stay right there, Maulie. I'll get it."
"Tell whoever it is to go away or face my wrath," Maul mumbled. "And don't call me Maulie." Why did the Padawan have to be so damn perky in the mornings? He pulled the covers back over his head as voices drifted through into the cream and beige bedroom.
"Master Windu!" he heard Obi-Wan say. "Master Yoda! What a surprise! No, I don't think we spoke last night. I said I didn't care about turning to the Dark Side? Are you sure, Master Yoda? I know I was a bit upset last night but I'm sure I would have remembered... Anyway, I'm sorry if I caused you any offense... No, I feel fine. I'm almost certain I don't need any more conditioning at the Jedi Happy Farm... Wait... What are you doing with that hypodermic, Master Windu? Master Yoda? NoooOOOOOoooo!"
There were a few muffled thuds, and then silence. Maul cautiously poked his head out from under the covers. A welcome and familiar smell was permeating the air. Obi-Wan must have had time to put a pot of coffee on before his abrupt departure. A couple more hours sleep and it would be just about be strong enough, he decided.
But first, he had plans for the Ewoks. Pulling his diary out of one of the pockets of his flung aside utility belt, he turned to the page which held a long and much amended list entitled "things to do after I strike my Master down."
At the top of the list, he added a new note. "Ewoks: Wipe them out. All of them..."
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