Disclaimers: Saint George (Lucasfilm) crated the Star Wars Universe. Lucasfilm owned by Disney. George Lucas created the Star Wars Universe. Movies by 20th Century Fox/Disney. I make no Republic Datari {Credits}, Peggats, Truguts, Wupiupi, etc from my fanfic/fanart/fanfunnies. Story written purely for enjoyment and the only profit I make is the happiness my writing brings. The Force is With You Always :)
Summary: The Sith try to poison Qui-Gon
Rating - PG -- Set a few months before The Phantom Menace.
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GUESS WHO'S COMING TO DINNER ...
Tears streamed down Darth Maul's cheeks, his eyes burning. He shut them tightly and wiped pale yellow tears away as he grabbed onto the bench, his vision blurred, unable to stop the agonizing pain. "Master, *please ...*" he gasped. "I can't do this..."
Darth Sidious growled as he pushed his apprentice aside, grabbed the knife and proceeded to chop up the remainder of the onions.
A long time ago, in a kitchen far, far away ...
"We don't have much time," Sidious snapped. "He'll be here within two hours."
"I know that," Maul hissed. "You've reminded me three times already. I don't see the bloody point, to be honest. Why don't we just lightsabre him and be done with it?"
Darth Sidious glared at his protégé. "Because then, my impatient apprentice, the Jedi will become aware of our existence. We can't allow that - not yet."
Maul folded his arms and scowled. "Why him? Why not Yoda? He's their leader."
"Because, my friend, Yoda isn't our problem. I sense this one will spell trouble for us ... So hurry up and help me prepare his last supper ..."
Maul grinned. "With pleasure, my Master."
He turned to the bench and began placing the chopped Alderaanian vegetables into the boiling pot.
Maul shuddered, remembering the last time he tried to cook, his Master had forced him to eat his hideous mistakes.
"Are you sure we shouldn't throw in some chopped Bantha?" he asked.
"He's vegetarian."
The Sith apprentice snorted. "Typical."
* * *
"I'm afraid you haven't been invited, young Padawan,"
Qui-Gon said, brushing his long hair.
Obi-Wan looked hurt.
His Master smiled. "The Senator wants to discuss the future of the Republic."
"That should involve all the Jedi," Obi-Wan protested.
"Yes, but I sense there's something more, something private, perhaps." Qui-Gon tugged on the extremely high neckline of his dress tunic. "I've always hated these."
Obi-Wan smirked. "Hate leads to the Dark Side, Master."
"In this case it's completely justified."
Obi-Wan chuckled.
"No sympathy, I see," Qui-Gon said, in a mock hurt tone.
He tore off the high frilly collar.
"That's not standard dress code, Master," Obi-Wan said, with a smile. "The Council will not approve."
Qui-Gon chuckled. "Never bothered me before ... At least I can breathe, though I still feel ridiculous in this damned thing."
"You look fine." Obi-Wan paused for a moment. "Master," he started, "be careful ... I'm not sure, but I sense something amiss ..."
Qui-Gon eyed him. "Are you sure it isn't because you feel left out?"
Obi-Wan gave a smile. "No, it's something more. I can't quite put my finger on it."
"Thank you, My Padawan, though I don't sense any danger, but I'll keep a lookout ... and I'll bring you some dessert."
Obi-Wan loved how Qui-Gon could always make him smile.
"Thank you, Master. I hope there's something chocolate."
Qui-Gon smiled as he boarded the cloud car. Obi-Wan watched the transport as it joined the others in Coruscant's airborne traffic stream, still a little upset about not being invited, as though he was being treated like a child and he didn't look forward to eating last night's leftovers. Qui-Gon was a much better chef than he, though he knew there were starving people in the Universe who would die for even his cooking, though still he couldn't help, but dream about what extravagant delicacies his Master would be sampling as he discussed the Republic's future with Senator Palpatine.
* * *
"You got the poison?"
"Of course," Maul replied with a sadistic smile.
"Just make sure you only place it in the vegetables..." Sidious watched the boiling pot. "Never overcook vegetables and not too much salt," he cautioned.
"I know, I know ..." Maul grumbled, hating cooking almost as much as he hated the Jedi as he continued to help his Master prepare the food.
Exposing a Jedi to Darth Maul's cooking was something even Darth Sidious would not do.
Maul gleefully sprinkled the lethal poison mixing it in with the steaming Alderaanian vegetables, being extremely careful not to get one granule of the noxious substance near him. Sidious smiled at his apprentice's sadism.
Maul began to arrange the prepared food on plates and looked quite proud of his assembly.
A bing told him the pot of Tatooinian Desert rice was ready. With a wooden spoon, he stirred the steaming aromatic pale yellow grains and smiled as he quickly dipped his fingers in, scooping up some.
"No nibbling!" Sidious snapped, almost causing Maul to choke.
"Just testing," he said quickly. "The rice is cooked."
Maul reached out for the ceramic pot, to take it to the table and hissed a virulent Sith curse as he forgot to use the towel. Much to his embarrassment, his Master didn't look impressed, as the older Sith turned to fuss with the dinner table setting. Maul scowled as he rubbed his hands together and while his Master wans't looking, grabbed the spoon and took a large gulp of the rice. This happened to be one of the few vegetarian dishes he did rather like, as he grabbed a towel and took the pot to the centre of the table.
"It's not like the Jedi's going to eat it all," Darth Sidious said with an evil smile. "You can have some when you return."
Poodoo. Maul thought. The rice'll be cold by then.
It just wans't as authentic reheated.
Sidious had done his homework, preparing only dishes he knew were among his guest's favorites, including beverages.
Maul poured a glass of warm Bantha milk for the Jedi, his face twisting as he did so. How anyone could drink this vile stuff was beyond him. The stench of it made him want to vomit.
The Sith Master went to change as Darth Maul left aboard his shuttlecraft, bored as he flew around space. He knew he couldn't be there when the Jedi came, should he be sensed. His Master had mastered mind blockages and had been around Jedi before, as Palpatine, of course, no one suspecting a thing.
The Sith Lord decided to meditate, levitating his body in a horizontal position, relaxing, calming, however Maul didn't feel relaxed. He realised what was bothering him. He wanted to be there - to see the Jedi gasp for breath as the poison took effect, burning his insides ... To see the excruciating pain in his pleading, teary bloodshot eyes, as he fell to the floor, gasping, unable to scream as he choked and coughed blood, desperately clutching his throat and stomach in absolute agony, as he died excruciatingly slowly. This poison wasn't renowned for its subtlety.
Maul's mouth curved up into a cruel smile. At least he could imagine it.
* * *
Senator Palpatine greeted his guest with a fixed smile, which
Qui-Gon Jinn returned. "It's a pleasure, Senator."
"The pleasure is mine," Palpatine said, not far from the truth, considering what he had in store for the Jedi. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."
"How could I refuse?"
Palpatine smiled again as he lead the unsuspecting Jedi Knight inside.
He and Qui-Gon sat down at the dinner setting.
"Smells lovely," Qui-Gon said. //Good Gods, there's enough here to feed twenty starving children!// The Jedi Master composed himself, he could hardly ask the Senator for a doggy bag.
Palpatine smiled. "Well, why don't we eat first, then we can discuss business."
"Fine with me," Qui-Gon said, still wondering how in the Universe two people could eat all this.
Palpatine kept his mind blocks firmly in place, the Jedi not suspecting a thing.
The Sith Lord took the lid from the steaming vegetables. "Would you like some?"
"Thank you," Qui-Gon said in a pleasent tone. It had been a while since he'd had Alderaanian food, their exqusite vegetables amongst his favorites.
Palpatine dished some up for his guest and gestured toward the aroimatic rice.
"Tatooinian Desert rice," Qui-Gon said, impressed at the rare dish. "You shouldn't have."
"No trouble," Palpatine said, with a 'pleasant' smile as Qui-Gon dished himself a small portion of the fluffy yellow grains, placing them inside his vegetables. Palpatine surpressed and evil chuckle.
The two began to eat, the Sith Lord keeping a corner eye on the Jedi. He feigned concern when he saw Qui-Gon cough and place his hand upon his throat.
The Jedi Master swallowed. "Spicy," he said and continued to eat.
Maybe the poison took a while, Sidious/Palpatine thought as he continued to eat. "I'm sorry if it's too spicy for you," he said. //I'll fire the chef.//
"That's not necessary," Qui-Gon said, catching Palpatine momentarily off guard.
"Your chef. The meal is fine."
"I forget Jedi can sense thoughts, but in my business there's no room for failure. If you had been a Kalaxian, I'd be begging for my life right now." Sidious almost laughed.
Qui-Gon smiled. "They are easily offended, aren't they?"
Palpatine smiled. "So you see my point."
"Yes, Senator, but please, I'm not offended and you must realise how hard it is to find jobs these days. I'm sure you could tell your chef just a little less spicy next time, unless you're cooking for a Dug that is."
Although misplaced, Palpatine found this Jedi's kindness interesting. "Has anyone ever told you you're too kind?"
Qui-Gon smiled. "Constantly." He dished up some more rice and took a large sip of his thick warm Bantha milk, smiling as he swallowed the sweet, creamy liquid.
Palpatine's patience was starting to wear thin as he noticed Qui-Gon had almost finished his meal.
"Would you like some more vegetables?" he asked, keeping his anger in check.
"No thank you," Qui-Gon said, finishing his now cool Bantha milk.
Palpatine almost gasped, realising neither he or his apprentice had thought to prepare desert, assuming they wouldn't need to.
"I'll fetch desert."
Qui-Gon smiled. "More food, Senator? What are you trying to do? Kill me?"
It took *all* of Darth Sidious' control not to burst into laughter. "I take it you're not used to such large meals?"
"You could say that," Qui-Gon smiled, hiding his horror. //Gods, if I eat another thing, I'll explode...//
Palpatine smiled. If he couldn't watch the Jedi die, he'd watch him suffer as he went to the kitchen to find anything he could pass off as a suitable desert.
He spat a Sith curse as he scanned his refrigerator, nothing vegetarian, apart from a piece of leftover chocolate cake, a garden of white-green mould growing on it. With a curse, Palpatine threw it out. There, at the back of the fridge, a tub of Hoth ice berry yoghurt, and thank the Force, was unaided by mould or fungus of any size shape or form. It was quite amazing how long the stuff lasted. Sidious, loathe to give the Jedi his favorite desert, but hardly thought Qui-Gon would share his apprentice's taste for various species' raw liver. It tried his own nerves at times, though Maul assured him they weren't human, Sidious had never been sure.
He grabbed two quaint glass bowls and porcelain spoons, poured the last remnants of the yoghurt into the bowls, struggling to make out two portions, fluffed them up and returned to the dining area.
"Here we are," Palpatine said, with his trademark 'pleasent' smile.
"Thank you, Senator. You really shouldn't have."
"Think nothing of it, Master Qui-Gon." Although his enemy, he admired the Jedi's resolve. Had he not been Force Sensitive, he would know nothing about the Jedi's discomfort at eating so much, particularly while others starved, or how uncomfortable he felt in the scratchy dress uniform and he smiled inwardly. At least that was something.
Although Qui-Gon had eaten more this night than he had in the past four days, he permitted himself to indulge once more. It wasn't often one was treated to such a rare and expensive delicacy as he slowly began to eat the cool, slightly tart yoghurt.
Palpatine sensed Qui-Gon wasn't feeling ill in the slightest. Surely the poison should have taken effect by now? Palpatine/Sidious sensed Qui-Gon hadn't sensed anything amiss... So what had gone wrong? He hadn't exactly prepared the next part although Qui-Gon would suspect something if he didn't start discussing what the Jedi Master thought he had come here to discuss.
He poured some fresh water from the jug in two glasses and handed one to Qui-Gon, again cross that the Jedi showed no signs of food poisoning let alone dropping dead.
"It seems the Republic is lacking compassion and reason," he said, playing on the Jedi's sympathies.
Qui-Gon nodded sadly. "Yes, upsetting though it is," he said, taking a sip of his slightly chilled Naboo spring water, impressed at its crisp flavour.
"I believe the problem lies with the Senate," Palpatine said. "They've become too complex and bureaucratic. The ordinary person seems to have been left in the wake of what they call progress." He sipped his water.
Qui-Gon Jinn nodded in agreement.
"I plan to speak with Chancellor Valorum on the matter." Palpatine looked as though he cared.
"Finis is an understanding and reasonable person," Qui-Gon said. "I wish you well in your endeavour." He sipped his crystal clear water.
Palpatine smiled. "This is where you come in. The Jedi are the guardians of peace and justice in our Republic." He still sensed Qui-Gon wasn't even starting to feel off colour and started to wonder just what poison Maul used or of he had used enough of the stuff, however he shielded those thoughts with a vengeance from his Jedi guest. "I may need the Jedis' help."
Qui-Gon nodded. "The Jedi will be happy to assist you, Senator, though I'm curious as to why you haven't spoken to the Council on the matter."
Palpatine smiled. "Forgive me, Master Jinn, but I wanted to speak to you in person. You seem less ... restrictive than the Council."
"So they keep telling me," Qui-Gon smiled. "I'll speak to them. I'm sure they'll be interested in your views. I agree something must be done before things get any worse than they have become." He finished his water.
"Yes." Palpatine agreed. Something must be done. //Though not quite in the way you think.//
Palpatine bid his guest farewell.
"Thank you for the lovely meal, Senator," Qui-Gon said. //I hope he doesn't waste the leftovers.//
Palpatine smiled. "Think nothing of it, Master Qui-Gon. Thank you for your company."
"I look forward to hear of your progress," Qui-Gon smiled, as he boarded his craft, Palpatine sensing the Jedi was as well as could be. Mock politely, he waited until Qui-Gon's transport was out of range before stomping inside, pulling the table cloth out from under the setting in a rage, making a mess, before changing clothing again, running his hand through his wavy grey hair, donning his thick, black cape.
His Master's mood most foul was the first thing Darth Maul sensed upon his return. //Oohh poodoo. It didn't work.//
"He carried on as if nothing happened," Sidious hissed. "Ate all five courses - and didn't even have to adjust his belt."
Maul growled with a vengeance. "I hate him."
"We're lucky he didn't sense anything amiss. What the hell did you use!?"
Maul looked confused. "I put enough in to kill an entire House of Hutts..." He produced the metalic cylinder.
Darth Sidious eyed it, peered inside and sniffed, then sneezed. "**I do not believe this!!!!**" he yelled, beyond furious.
Maul's face fell. "Oh ... You mean it isn't lethal to humans?"
"**NO!!!** ..." Sidious screamed, then sneezed again. "Couldn't you have at least got cyanide?"
"Cyanide? That's delicious ... Especially on chocolate-"
His Master's burning glare stopping him mid-sentence. "Clean up this mess!" he hissed.
Maul growled inwardly and did as his seething Master ordered. He peered into the rice pot. At least it was still warm.
Sidious snarled, dumped the cylinder's remaining contents on the rice, and stormed off in high dungeon.
Maul scowled and grudgingly began to clear off the table.
* * *
Dressed in a loose fitting pastel green tunic, Qui-Gon smiled with glee as his dress uniform crumpled to the floor. Obi-Wan shook his head and smirked. The Jedi Master flopped onto his bed, then sat up. "Obi-Wan, I never want to see another morsel of food for as long as I live."
"Those wealthy politicians sure know how to entertain, don't they, Master?"
Qui-Gon nodded warily. "Remind me next time the good Senator decides to invite me over, not to eat for a week before hand."
Obi-Wan smiled. "So what did you two discuss?"
Qui-Gon stood. "He spoke of bringing compassion and reason back to the Republic."
The young Jedi nodded. "Sounds reasonable. But why you?"
"He figured I'd be able to persuade the Council."
Obi-Wan smiled. "He's not wrong there. Compassion *is* your strong point."
Qui-Gon smiled. "That's why he asked me. I hope all goes well with his plight."
"As do I. It's about time someone did something."
Qui-Gon nodded, then paused. "I don't know how to tell you this, Padawan, ... but there was *no* chocolate..."
Obi-Wan feigned shock. "I thought I sensed a disturbance in the Force."
Both Jedi laughed. "So how was dinner?"
"Terrible," Qui-Gon said. "Far too much pepper."
*
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