One Brief Dimming Moment: Darth Maul Goes to Camelot
by Sith Lady
squirebran@aol.com
[Read Sith Lady's author bio]

Disclaimer: Sorry George, Mr. Lucas, sir, we know they're yours, we'll put them back in the condition we found them in ... really ... All the other folks belong to their respective creators. You know who you are.
P.S. This takes place after Darth Maul and the Fourth Wall.
P.P.S. It definitely helps to have at least heard the soundtrack for Lerner and Lowe's Camelot (lyrics copyright 1960), either the original play (infinitely marvelous, especially with Richard Burton) or even, shudder, the 1967 Josh Logan movie (infinitely sucky, IMHO). If you haven't, for the Force's sake, young one, go out and get a copy.

"Maul!" The apartment door banged open to reveal a gaudier-dressed-than-usual Senator Palpatine.

Darth Maul, apprentice lord of the Sith, sprang into action. In one fluid motion, he saved his Jedi Tomb Raider: Darth Lara Croft Does Dallas game, leapt out of his couch, avoided landing on his apprentice licking her butt in the middle of the room, and came to a halt in a protective stance in front of the television.

"Most impressive, my apprentice," Palpatine/Sidious cooed. "However, you have nothing to fear tonight."

Maul's battle instincts remained in the stratosphere. "What is the catch, my master?"

"No catch, my apprentice, just a bit of a history lesson."

Maul groaned. "I thought you said 'no catch'..."

"Specifically, the history of the theater, a musical heavily steeped in the Dark Side. We are going to see a production of..." Palpatine drew out the moment, piquing his apprentice's grim curiosity.

"Yes...?" Maul dared to finally prompt.

"...Camelot!" Palpatine finished dramatically, with a swirling flourish of puce and chartreuse-sequined cape.

"Excuse me, my master?!" Maul gasped, incredulous. "That 'one brief shining moment' nonsense?" He shook his horned head at his master's fondness for old drivel.

"That 'one brief shining moment' was not only completely crushed, my apprentice, but already doomed from the start. It was considered an actual victory for the Dark Side, after a few military setbacks. The Jedi are produc--"

"The Jedi?" Maul winced loudly.

"Think of seeing the play as a way to hone your anger then, Maul. And don't interrupt!" Sidious' nails started glowing a bright warning purple, clashing badly with his billowing dark orange sleeves. "Besides, I was under the impression you almost enjoyed your experience at the Community Theater, eventually."

"Just the cast org--party ..." was all Maul would admit to.

Sidious flashed him a double-take, but continued. "Be that as it may, the Jedi are producing Camelot as an object lesson on what not to do in government: sleep with your sister, trust horny foreigners (here he aimed a sardonic grin in Maul's direction), and so forth. You really should listen to the lyrics of songs other than Led Zeppelin and all that other rubbish of yours." The Sith lord waved a disparaging hand at Maul's collection, lightning beginning to actively dance along his fingertips.

"I'll go, my master, I'll go," Maul quickly agreed. Anything to save his CDs.

"Good. Wear something decent, preferably long hooded black wool. It will blend right in with the setting."

Better than your neon Elvis re-make, Maul groused as he dutifully went off to change.

I heard that, Sidious countered, firing a direct hit at his apprentice's boxer-clad backside to speed him along.

***

Palpatine found them excellent seats at the Jedi Community Theater, all the better to beam archly at the stage in his Palpatine, Loyal Supporter of the Arts, Which Enables Me to Act as A Drama Critic Insincere Pose #143. Since the place was fairly packed, Maul hoped beyond hope that his twit Padawan neighbor wouldn't be able to show up to this. His prayers to the Dark Side seemed to be answered as the lights dimmed and still no Obi-Wan. They were doomed to be dashed against the fake British granite. A quick flash of a long thin braid and a thumb's up! sign peeped out at him merrily from behind a side curtain just as the overture started. Note to self: be careful what you ask of the Dark Side next time.

***

Much as Maul hated to admit it, his master was occasionally right. The lyrics themselves were better than anticipated, as far as the Dark Side was concerned.

Camelot was about an ancient kingdom struggling for greatness and doomed to fail. It started off grandly, if irritatingly, enough, with a full orchestra of padawans gamely trying to make the fanfares of brass and strings come off medievally. Maul hoped most of their strings actually would come off before the night was through. The place was ruled by a weak-willed goody-two boots, King Arthur Pendragon, who had sowed the seeds for his own destruction with his sister, Morgan le Fay, before the play really started. Eww. And the Jedi say the Sith are depraved? Granted, according to the program, most productions didn't mention that incestuous little fact, but apparently the Jedi were leaving no fake stones unturned in their preachy goals.

When the curtains parted, the audience found that Arthur had signed up for a political marriage and was a bit leery about meeting his unknown bride. He took to hiding out in the cardboard woods and whimpering about the situation all the way through the first song, "I Wonder What the King is Doing Tonight," featuring the king in question having an imagined press conference with his peasants. Maul himself wasn't wondering at all: Mace Windu was limping through the role, toupee askew. Any female playing the queen-to-be would scare him off faster than Sidious at a family reunion.

The blushing bride, Guinevere, also in hiding, lived for sex and violence. That much was obvious from her first number, "The Simple Joys of Maidenhood," where she bemoaned the loss of the "sweet, gentle pleasures" of enciting suicides, bloody duels, various forms of family member-cides, feuds, and even wars, all in the name of romance (and Guinevere). Maul had to grin at that; the character reminded him quite a bit of Darth Mary Sue ... Unfortunately, rather than that Sithily endowed greedy wench in the role, someone had cast Yoda in wispy lavender drag instead. "The director must die," Maul growled under his breath, winching his stomach back down as the muppet warbled through the song, screwing up lyrics yet again. The Sith apprentice had looked desperately around for a bar when he arrived, preferably one well stocked with Hamster Death Gulps, hoping the Jedi had installed such a necessary public service since the last time he was here. There was a snack bar, yes, at the same counter as Ticket Sales, but featuring the usual Jedi fare of nauseatingly wholesome, non-fat, no-salt, no-taste, non-alcoholic food and drink. Even the liquid selection consisted of diet, decaffinated sodas. "Might as well drink brown water with bubbles," Maul had groused. That got him to remembering the Jungle Cruise moat at the Magic Kingdom. Note to self: do not squick self out more than necessary if Hamster Death Gulps are nowhere to be found.

The third song featured Mace Pendragon attempting to impress Guinevere about how wonderful a place "Camelot" was, simply because it had climate control. Now, if it also had cruise control, reclining bucket seats, and a guaranteed selection of biker thugs in the back, you might get her interested, Maul smirked to himself.

The Light Side sorcerer Merlin, Arthur's childhood adviser, made a brief appearance, just long enough to say goodbye and good luck. The old goat frolicked willingly off-stage, pursuing a winsome nymph called Nimue to his entrapment and doom as she sang the haunting number (according to the program) "Follow Me." "Don't let the door to the magic cave hit you in the asses, twerps," Maul muttered. The good part was that it was a short scene and quickly got rid of the actors, otherwise known as the bad part: Ki-Adi Mundi as Merlin and Yaddle as Nimue maiming the lyrics to "Me, You Follow."

Meanwhile, King Idiot had established an entire Round Table full of knights, forcing them together to be "brothers" and live up to impossibly high ideals, given their backgrounds. Ah, there's the bikers, Maul thought with a shudder. Enter Lancelot du Lac, the foreigner and noblest of knights, if an arrogant French bastich. His opening number "C'est Moi" ("'Tis I") made no bones about his high opinion of himself. Oddly enough, with a way-too-old Qui-Gon Jinn straining his way-too-small stage armor portraying a bearded Lancelot, Maul found the puffed-up lyrics absolutely hysterical. Especially the bits about moral purity:

"The soul of a knight should be a thing remarkable,
His heart and his mind as pure as morning dew;
With a will and a self-restraint
That's the envy of ev'ry saint
He could easily work a miracle or two.

To love and desire he ought to be unsparkable,
The ways of the flesh should offer no allure;
But where in the world
Is there in the world
A man so untouched and pure...?

C'est moi!"

Maul almost got himself kicked out of the theater, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. Only dire mental threats from Sidious calmed him down in time for Lance's bellowed finale.

Du Lac then got to schmooze with Guinevere and the rest of the court (which included a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed Obi-Wan as somebody's squire) in a bright little fake meadow while the queen and company sang that rousing hymn to celibacy, "The Lusty Month of May" (or, as Yoda rendered it, "Lusty, the Month of May Is"). It was obvious that the character of Her Royal Highness couldn't stomach Lance for a minute, and Maul detected just a bit of underlying bitchy payback from Yoda to Qui-Gon for his mundane hippiness. Later in the scene, Guinevere decided to let her baser desires take control of her actions (Big surprise there) and convinced, in song form, natch, three established knights to go after du Lac's presumptuous heinie. Then they could "Take Me to the Fair," according to Yoda's song. "Only one at a time? This has got to be fictional," Maul snorted, ignoring Palpatine's elbow in his ribs as he remembered the several times Jedi had ganged up on him in the past.

Needless to say, Lance the Wonder Dink managed to wipe up the fake field with each one in a tournament, even bringing one back from being "mortally wounded." Maul absently wondered if Qui-Gon could really do that; it would hinder his eventual goal of wiping out the Jedi a tad. Arthur bemoaned the whole thing (in truth, Maul hadn't seen him do anything but moan about something) off to one side of the stage in "How to Handle A Woman." Maul grinned and prepared to shout out a few choice suggestions from the drag queens at various Grey Side of the Force events. Palpatine glared him down before he could open his mouth.

Guinevere, watching the fights, definitely started getting the hots for the French stud and he for her, once his battle blood had been stirred up (Maul smirked at that). Lance couldn't handle the implications of falling for his liege's wife, so he ran off on a quest, first enduring Guinevere's singing the quietly romantic "Before I Gaze at You Again." Maul scrunched down into his seat, fingers in his ears, as he desperately tried to get away from Yoda's mangling of that one. The only thing that saved him was intermission.

Sort of. The minute the house lights went up, Maul unfolded from his fetal position just in time to get smiled at, full on, by a bouncing Obi-Wan. "Maul! You did make it! I didn't know you'd be interested in this. Wasn't Qui-Gon magnificent? How come you didn't try out for any of the roles? I think you'd've made a wonderful Mordred. Or something. Hi, Da." The twit directed this last breathless comment at Palpatine.

"Good evening, Ben. I'm rather surprised you don't have a larger part. You sing divinely." Father and son dimpled winsomely at each other. Maul swallowed hard at the sight of his master dimpling and wished again for a large flagon of Hamster Death Gulps. He had to admit, though, Obi-Wan did look--interesting was the safest thing he could come up with--in silver-grey tights and short blue tunic and little green elf boots. He caught himself staring before Sidious could make any comments that would definitely cost Maul his dinner.

"Unfortunately, it isn't written anywhere that Lancelot had a squire with him at Camelot, so I'm making do," Obi-Wan sighed. "At least this way, I can watch from the side and have a scene or three with him." Without a pause, he turned back to Maul. "Want to buy me something at the snack bar?" he chirped. "They have yummy rice cakes in."

"I give rice cakes to My Apprentice to use as hockey pucks," Maul snarled. The mention of the bland styrofoam passing as food did actually help to soothe his rebellious stomach a little, mainly out of puzzlement. It was his tongue that fought now, trying to escape downwards and have words with his stomach about proper Sith tastes. Maul finally defeated it two falls out of three, returning it to its proper place, and glared out at the two constants in his miserable existence, who were both staring at his mouth lasciviously. Fortunately for them, before he could whip out his lightsaber and finish them both off once and for all, the house lights flickered once. "Whoop! Gotta go!" Obi-Wan chirped. "No rest for the cast, remember?" He grinned at Maul. "See you at the cast party? You can be my guest."

"No doubt," Maul snapped. "Forget it."

Obi-Wan pouted cutely and turned to go. As he turned that wondrous backside, Maul caught sight of the tiniest of snags in the cheap nylon tights ... Definitely not the Dartha Stewart costume line, he smirked. He used the Force to tug just a bit, and Nature (as well as rough edges here and there) did the rest. By the time the twit got backstage and brushed up against those cheesy swords, crowns, and other props, the place would probably look like a Kessel silicon spider had been and gone after a bout of serious redecorating. While drunk.

Maul spent the remainder of the intermission on his own quest, searching throughout the theater for something he could consider edible, since Sidious was being a sadistic prick again and not letting him try his luck at any possible nearby convenience stores. He knew the Jedi cast wouldn't have a better selection of smuggled-in munchies than at the snack bar, but was shocked to discover that the audience seats didn't even have gum wads stuck to their undersides or ground into the concrete floor. He finally settled for his program (which meant he had to "liberate" another if he wanted to see what the songs were supposed to be) and a diet decaf Coke to wash it down with, which he had Whammied the pimply-faced teenager behind the counter into giving him.

Finally, the house lights flickered twice, goading the audience back to their seats for the remainder of the torture. There was a brief scene with Lance returning from his two-year (=10 minute) quest and Arthur finally proclaiming him an Official Round Table Knight at court ("What, no t-shirt?" Maul hmphed before Sidious kicked him). Soon after, du Lac accosted Guinevere in a fake corridor. All the frustrated passions of two years (10 minutes) surged through the faithful knight as he belted out, "If Ever I Should Leave You," a perennial hit for lounge lizards from here to Tatooine. The song concluded, the house lights went from the eventual lone spotlight on Lance to completely out, and the audience applauded until the lights came up again on a new scene.

Ah, yes, Mordred's entrance, Maul thought with a smirk, peering over his master's shoulder at the program. Sidious rolled it shut and wapped him between the horns with it, redirecting his attention forward. Maul didn't even growl, intent on discovering who the Jedi had found to portray the most interesting character in this whole debacle. Too bad they didn't pick Obi-Wan, Maul sighed. Twit or not, he can sing and play evil with the best of them. The spawn of Arthur and his unknown sister, Morgan le Fay, was announced in grand style at court, and the Dark Prince took three quick strides toward the throne.

That was as far as he got. Maul had time to register the duck-billed snout, huge flapping ears, and schlepping flat feet of a Gungan padawan (Figure out those genetics--Gungan PADAWAN?!) in blue polyester brocade before the actor tripped over something almost unseen. He was about to tumble headlong into Arthur's lap (which Maul suspected Windu wouldn't mind a bit) but caught himself in time with the Force and executed a fairly passable spiraling flip, landing in a nice gesture of obeisance directly before the throne. The crowd ate it up, assuming it was part of the script, but Maul thought he could spot just the merest hint of diaphanous silver-grey nylon thread looping throughout the court set. He glanced at the ceiling and fought the urge to whistle.

The padawan, meanwhile, sneered and mocked Arthur and his ideals, threatening to take the kingdom someday and run it his way, as outlined in "The Seven Deadly Virtues." Unfortunately, the actor just couldn't pull it off. Trying to rhyme "meesa" with "ennui" and horribly mangling the rest diluted the purity of Mordred's wickedness. Yet another reason to take our revenge upon the Jedi, Sidious growled to his apprentice.

Master and apprentice were in rare accord.

Guinevere then tried to cheer up Arthur by speculating on the greenness of the grass on the peasant side of the open sewer in "What Do the Simple Folk Do?" By this time, it was obvious to Maul that Obi-Wan had frolicked here and there, helping with scene changes and largely oblivious to his costume's plight. When the royal couple decided that wild ballroom dancing was one of the quaint things that peasants did to cheer up, they whirled themselves into such a tangled mess of silver-grey nylon thread, with Mace on the floor and Yoda squirming somewhere on top of him (the tiny master was completely enveloped, save for the ludicrous wimple that peeked out through the webbing), that the only way out was a brief activation of Windu's lightsaber, tucked into "Arthur's" scabbard and representing the sword Excalibur.

That was amusing for awhile, but Maul's attention began to wane until the next scene, starring the Round Table and its knights. Its knights were most unhappy and bored with the lack of fun vices to indulge in ever since Arthur had set up his rules of chivalry, and loudly complained in "Fie on Goodness!" At one point, Maul had to forcibly restrain himself from howling with glee after the lines:

"Oh, but to burn a little town or slay a dozen men,
Anything to laugh again!!"

YESSS!! Now, there's some lyrics.

Arthur, meanwhile, had blundered into a nearby convenient enchanted forest as a result of Mordred's amphibious machinations and was now dealing with Morgan le Fay. Maul expected Arthur to pick up where he left off with her, but she merely enchanted him for awhile, just long enough for Lancelot and Guinevere to share some quality time in the queen's chambers. Maul's sense of sick humor perked up at that, but thankfully, the only thing the Jedi would reveal was Yoda once again singing at Qui-Gon, this time "I Loved You Once in Silence." Maul came very close to almost feeling sorry for the aging hippy. With the line, "And misery, all I knew was," the audience groaned in commiseration.

Finally. The climax. "Guinevere." An excuse for a large amount of exposition, all crammed into the device of a minstrel, telling the latest news of the court to the eager, tawdry ears of the mob. How Lance and Guinevere had been discovered together by Mordred and a few dozen knights, who just happened to be lounging around the halls, bored. Lancelot had escaped with ease, but Guinevere was apparently captured (Maul could picture Qui-Gon having to saber his way through the grey thread wrapped around the bed pillars, leaving Yoda to his fate as he skonkered off to France). She had been tried on an appropriately gloomy day (as if any of the English days hadn't been so far), her wandering king finally showing up to hear the verdict of the jury. Death by burning. Since she had broken laws the jerk himself had established, he had no choice but to agree. Yeah, right, thought Maul. Yet another reason why the Sith should be in charge. Evil means never having to admit you! fucked up.

The crowd parted and moved upstage, revealing a miserable-looking Yoda in a rumpled, simple gown, bound to a stake and surrounded by the court (with the notable exception of Obi- Wan). The lighting changed, dimming, matching the scene depicted in the lyrics:

"Early dawn was the time
She would pay for her crime
Or would Lancelot reappear?
Come and rescue Guinevere?"

If he can pry himself away from someone else's squire long enough, Maul smirked, throttling that part of his brain that seethed a bit in jealousy.

There was speculation among the crowd that Arthur had chosen the time deliberately, hoping that Lance would be come back and save his queen for him. "Waiting for Qui-Gon to do a man's job, huh, Wind-bag?" Maul snickered, quietly. His ribs were getting sore from repeated assaults by Palpatine's bony elbow. Just keep it up, my master; I'm getting ideas from this faux medieval send-up.

"Then suddenly, earth and sky were dazed by a pounding roar!"

The stage lighting came up red, either from the "rising sun" or ominous foreshadowing. Maul hoped it represented blood.

"And suddenly, through the dawn, an army began to bore!"

Pounding feet were heard milling about behind the fake wooden gate in the fake stone wall.

"And lo, ahead the army, holding aloft his spear,
Came Lancelot to save his dear Guinevere..."

The gate crashed back and sure enough, there was Lancelot Jinn and a cast of dozens of henchknights, preparing to stride boldly through and lay waste to the courtyard. Please do, Maul found himself rooting. Any schmucks too stupid to realize how defensive gates should open don't belong in the gene pool.

"By the score fell the dead,
As the yard turned to red."

Actually, the yard was rapidly turning grey more than any other color as the army slowly advanced. Silver-grey.

"Countless numbers felt his spear
As he rescued Guinevere..."

In the space of the eleven seconds it took the crowd to sing the lines, Lancelot and his crew had struggled in, laid about them here and there with fake spears, swords, flails, and what have you, dropping any opposition between them and the stake. By that time, though, the infamous grey nylon thread had wrapped around every pike, pillar, post, person, and way-too-close-for-comfort items that also began with "p". Maul winced despite himself and crossed his legs protectively. "Mortally wounded" peons could not fall, but remained hovering a few inches up off the stage, bound up in near-invisible shrouds of silver-grey. Guinevere wound up bound to the stake by skeins of the stuff; Lance had to unwind them quickly, using his spear as a giant spindle, and ended up with his lady love fastened to his weapon. "Yoda onna stiiick!" Maul howled with glee before Sidious zotzed him with purple lightning under his seat to shut him up.

"In that dawn, in that gloom,
More than love met its doom."

Yeah, Maul chortled to himself, the cast, the sets, the props, and hopefully the asshole director. Nice going, Obi.

"In the dying, endless scream,
Came the sundown of a dream."

Like any chance for a Tony, Maul exulted.

The crowd sang more repetitions of the name Guinevere (it was obvious the original authors couldn't think of a better rhyme at times) as Lance's men tried to untangle themselves before Arthur could free his reinforcements. There was some group chirping about Guinevere starting a war, which would enable her to get her rather ironic wish from the very beginning. At one point, Arthur faked out Lancelot, brushing him back and off-balance long enough (it being hard to parry with a Yoda) to nearly run a captured spear through his gut. Oooh, nice move, Maul approved. I gotta remember that one. The king obviously pulled the blow at the last moment, allowing his once-loyal vassal to escape with his mummified muppet. Wuss. As the crowd came to a dramatic climax ("Guinevere, Guinevere, Guinevere!"), Lance and company fled back to France, accidentally yanking every last piece of scenery with them and prematurely hauling down the curtain.

While waiting for the lights to come up again for the final scene, Maul thought it was taking a bit longer than necessary, even giving the emergency scenery shuffling. Muted mumbling behind the curtain caught his attention, and he increased his hearing using the Force. "But Master Windu-u," Obi-Wan was whining, "it's my big scene!"

"You go out there like that and it will be," Mace grumped. "Do it and I'll really get medieval on your ass."

"I'm terribly sorry, Mace," Qui-Gon growled. "I don't know what's gotten into him. Such unseemly behavior."

"I didn't mean to--"

"Silence, Padawan. There's no time left to change. Just go back to the dressing room and wait."

Sniffles and the sound of elf boots pattering quickly away.

Up came the curtain. Not much of the set had changed after all; apparently, the shambles of the set looked enough like a war scene with the simple addition of a new, dark backdrop. The lighting was very dim, indicating night, or Gungan-strangling fog. Lance and Guinevere reappeared, briefly, just long enough for Arthur to forgive them both nobly. As they skulked off, a young Rodian padawan in silver-grey tights and short blue tunic and little green elf boots (Bitches, Maul growled inwardly) approached the king, wanting to be a part of the Round Table and the court at Camelot. At first, Arthur told him to forget it, then relented and had him kneel before him, knighting him on the field and singing a brief reprise of "Camelot" to the kid, ending with the famous lines:

"Don't let it be forgot
That once, there was a spot
For one, brief shining moment..."

The chorus joined in with,

"That was known as Camelot!"

As the padawan orchestra blurbled the last few sadly triumphant brass notes, the backdrop fell away, tugged by something toward the dressing rooms. It stopped before completely disappearing as the last of the grey nylon thread attached to it finally ran out, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of something briefly shining ...

***

Sidious dropped Maul off at his apartment, with orders for more research on the time period ringing in his head. He thought seriously about just doing a report on Die by the Saber (a fairly kick-ass game, if no Jedi Tomb Raider), when another thought occurred to him as he stared at his neighbor's wall. Aggravating as he was, Obi-Wan did make a fairly decent research assistant, once his will had been broken sufficiently. Yes, that was it. Just research.

Suuuuuuurrre, My Apprentice sent. Like "it's just sex," right?

Maul snarled at her, but made the mistake of looking at her at the same time and went obediently to open a can of tuna.

Wild medieval celebratory noises with Qui-Gon du Lac didn't seem to be forthcoming from next door; as a matter of fact, there seemed to be nothing but a bout of quiet sniffling, then the tell-tale click of Obi-Wan's stereo starting up. Oh, no, Maul groaned silently. "Lance" is probably at the cast party with "Arthur," apologizing in an obscenely graphic way for bringing Camelot down over his shiny head. So much for getting anything done tonight. When the CD version of the Original Broadway album came on, specifically programmed to repeat "Before I Gaze at You Again", "If Ever I Would Leave You", and "I Loved You Once in Silence" over and over again, Maul knew he was in for it, and became bound and determined to stay the hell away from the twit's apartment. Argh. Obi-Wan's misery was delicious for awhile, but after hearing the same three songs ten times in a row already, Maul downed a Hamster Death Gulp or five and went to bed.

***

It must have been the music selection that started him dreaming (or nightmaring) about the evening's performance. Strangely enough, Maul found himself as the casting director at the start of the play's run, clad in black sweats, armless "Sith Lords Kick Ass" t-shirt, and red leg warmers. He stamped a wooden club spiked with shark teeth on the stage for attention as he handed out roles.

He pictured Qui-Gon as Arthur; Maul's dream-self didn't seem to care about type-casting. Ki-Adi was eliminated. Mace Windu was punted into the Merlin role, with him doomed to follow Sidious as Nimue offstage. In some dim corner of his mind, Maul marveled at his own imagination's ability to squick him out so badly, but at least it got rid of both of the annoyances for the remainder of the evening. Not to mention grossing out the rats in the nearby alley, no doubt. Darth Mary Sue would have to be Guinevere; certainly easier on the eyes, ears and stomach, but the image in his head was a little fuzzy. Work on her later. Grin. Himself as Mordred, of course ... more fuzziness. Weird. Who for Lancelot?

As he pondered that, the image of Guinevere became clearer in his mind. A long blonde wig. Check. Delicate, sheer gown just this side of the public decency laws. Check. Limpid, soothing blue-green eyes he knew so well. Check ...? Someone who could carry off both the Before Lance and After Lance aspects of the role, someone already in touch with his near-split personality--

HIS?! What the hell--

He almost woke up, but quickly received a clear image of Lancelot.

Himself.

He shook his head angrily in his dream, wondering just who was doing the casting here. He did replace the gleaming silver armor, at least, with blackened metal decorated with fire-red highlights. Better. He actually considered it, running the Frenchman's lyrics through his mind. Now, there was a man firmly convinced he was hot shit. One destined to bring the aging hippie's kingdom crashing down around his hairy ears and get the girl in the end (grin). Maul could fake the before-intermission moralistic bullshit as well as Qui-Gon; better! Oh, yeah. Definitely worth considering, especially for the tournament scene. Maul smiled to himself as the stage ran with very realistic Jedi blood after Lance's victories. Cheap, too, for the special effects budget ...

He took control of his dream again, now positive of his choice for Mordred: Ben-Wa. If anyone would want to break up this happy little triangle (shudder), it would be that scum. Whoever had butted in on his dream-state (and he had a pretty good idea who) was in complete agreement.

Maul woke up completely with a tired growl. "If he's in that good a mood, might as well get some use out of him."

***

"Camisole?"

"Camisole." Thank the Dark Side, this was more pleasant than having to hide Sidious's package.

"Gown?"

"Gown."

"Over-dress?"

"Over-dress."

"Jeweled slippers?"

"No way. Barefoot."

"Okay. Wimple?"

"Wimple."

"Satin rope?"

"Satin rope."

There was a pause, as the two apprentices did a quick visual search of Obi-Wan's bedroom.

"Where's the stake?!" Maul growled in exasperation.

"Sorry. We'll make do ..." Grin.

***

"Don't let it be forgot," Obi-Wan finally breathed in a sad, gentle tenor into the back of his neighbor's neck, "that once, there was a spot, for one brief shining moment ..."

Maul flipped them both over and wound up curled around Obi-Wan as he joined in in his kick-ass baritone, "That was known as Camelot!" He grinned evilly and convinced the padawan to shine again for him.

END

(9/23/99)

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