He is sitting on a big, red sack and is lolling comfortably. Nen Yim kneels at his feet and paints his toe claws in all the colors of the rainbow - just as he requested. He greatly regrets that he doesn't have six toes on each foot, so there are only five colors instead of the classic six of the rainbow.

"What color should I leave out?" the green-eyed mastershaper asks him from below.

"Purple."

"But purple suits you extremely well and blends well with your complexion, Terrible Lord," Nen Yim disagrees.

"Then just blue."

"But blue is a very popular colour, sir. Your subjects will be greatly encouraged by this."

"Then black."

Nen Yim laughs a bit too shrill for his liking. "But black isn't a color of the rainbow, Scary One. Also, your toenails are already black. I would only need to skip a toenail."

He ponders and unconsciously shifts his weight so that part of his beanbag bursts open and releases its contents, which are soon eagerly eaten by the other parts of the unusual piece of furniture.

In addition, the foot slips during this displacement and the long claw nail breaks off the middle toe with an ugly noise. "Oh dear! My toenail!" he exclaims desperately. "My adornation!"

Nen Yim just smiles away the pain of loss. "We simply fill it up again and replace it with an artificial one."

"The nail can certainly be replaced," he replies in a serious voice, "but never ever you, my faithful, dear Nen Yim."

"You are too merciful, Fearsome One. What color shouldn't it be now?"

He thinks about it, then he feels a painful blow on his scarred cheek. And right after that on the other. What delicious pain!

"Time to wake up, Great Mighty Lord!" he heard Onimi crow impatiently.

He looked down. All his toenails were still intact - and unpainted, only Nen Yim was missing. Yes, he really missed the mastershaper – and only one person was to blame for that.

Still sleepy, he rubbed his tired eyes. "What is it, Onimi?"

"I will now go to Corellia to use an infidel superweapon to destroy this so-called living planet so that it may never again challenge our claim to this galaxy. So you will hold the fort here until I get back."

He winked in disbelief. "You are leaving me? You've never done that before!"

Onimi's crooked mouth narrowed even further. "These are things that must be done - not here, but through Corellia - and by someone with special powers who is loyal to you, someone like me."

"What are the tasks to do in the meantime?"

"Well, the Shamed Ones have become rebellious. Unfortunately, their leader - the infamous Yu'shaa - is nowhere to be found, but a former warrior named Kunra is said to have taken his place. I also removed Drathul as High Prefect for his inability to adequately rehabilitate the Shamed Ones. Thanks to Yun-Harla, Nom Anor quickly filled the gap and is in the process of drafting the rehabilitation law if he hasn't already done so. In this way we can break the back of the resistance of the Shamed Ones, since some of them are more hostile to us than others."

"You mean the part of them that followed that Yu'shaa?"

Onimi's yellow eyes darkened. "I was told by the priest Harrar that Yu'shaa's alliance with the Jedi has fueled a cult among the Shamed Ones that focuses on Jedi worship. These foolish heretics are now hoping for support from the Galactic Alliance, and we must break that hope. With Nas Choka on Corellia with the bulk of our forces, we'll need every Yuuzhan Vong claw we can find here, no matter how short. So with this new rehabilitation law for the Shamed Ones, we're going to be killing multiple flitnats with one stone."

"Insubordination and heresy of the Shamed Ones, an attack... and what else?"

Onimi patted his shoulder. "You're doing it, Lord. And Nom Anor, as the new High Prefect, will stay with you to support you."

"At least it will certainly be entertaining. Did you also compile the audience list for me?"

"Drathul wants to speak to you." Onimi grinned. "You can guess what he wants."

The court jester walked to the door and Shimrra stared at his toenails. "Oh, before Drathul comes, could you please tell Master Shaper Qelah Kwaad to take care of my finger- and toenails?"

༺═────────────═༻

Viqi Shesh was incredibly ashamed as she left the citadel ship at Onimi's side. They kept passing Yuuzhan Vong or people who looked at the mismatched couple in disbelief or even gave them disapproving looks that were more aimed at her than Shimrra's court jester - even though she actually quite liked the organic dress that Onimi had chosen for her. It didn't reveal too much cleavage at the top and dropped to the ankles at the bottom. She had been ashamed of Pedric Cuf's protruding chin earlier in the restaurant, which Nom Anor had not considered necessary to cover even with the ooglith mask. After Tsavong Lah had ignominiously cast her out, she had felt ashamed of that outburst of second hand embarrassment, but that was nothing compared to the embarrassment she was going through now, for the man at her side was not only exceptionally deformed, but also in his pilot's suit not at all appropriate to her own attire.

Another thrust of shame caused Viqi's cheeks to blush when Onimi suddenly grabbed her upper arm while walking and smirked at her as she turned to him. So anyone passing by or standing by must have noticed that the court jester clearly claimed ownership of her. He occasionally punched her in the back, and then passers-by laughed furtively without Onimi intervening. Apparently, as a jester on duty, he was expected to make such antics - and apparently he enjoyed her discomfort at the same time. And she couldn't even openly express her disapproval lest she arouse his physical wrath again. But getting a slap in the face for being insubordinate and going down was one thing; to provoke the jester into reducing certain planets to rubble was something else entirely. Still, Viqi just couldn't and wouldn't believe that Centerpoint was truly operational again. The result of her inspection tour three years ago had been clear. She was sure that no repairs had been made to the battle station since then. It would take months if not years...

Running the gauntlet grew longer and longer and still no ship came in sight to take away this shame from her. She looked back and up at the citadel. Somewhere up there, Nom Anor had to be.

A light blue hand turned her head towards two yellow eyes. "A little advance von'u on the journey ahead," Onimi purred, and then he kissed her - right on the mouth. The kiss was wet and drooling. The court jester only had one tooth and his lips were correspondingly slack and powerless – since they didn't have the counter-pressure of intact rows of teeth. Viqi shuddered in disgust and jerked herself free. A Rodian couple walked by and mimicked the kiss, including Viqi's reaction afterwards. Then they looked her way again; their snouts quivered and opened in a harsh bark—Rodian laughter. Could one sink any lower?

"We're here, my sweet Viqi Tsup," Onimi chirped, and the same light blue hand that had twisted her chin pointed to a glittering green ship.

It took some time, while Onimi made several attempts to urge the door to open. It seemed to her that he suppressed one or two curses in his native language and Viqi was already rejoicing inwardly and hoped the entry tongue would never open. Then, with a soft slurp, the door membrane withdrew and the way into the ship was free. She consoled herself that there were more urgent hopes. Once inside the ship, Onimi sat in the pilot's cockpit, donned the control canopy, and tucked his shortened arms into the control pouches, with some effort. Then the ship took off, and Viqi wondered if the new post of Nom Anor really meant enough to renounce her entirely.

They jumped into hyperspace. Onimi left the controls and seated himself next to Viqi.

"And now, my beautiful Viqi Tsup, you will give me everything", he said in a frivolous way, than started to fumble on her organic dress.

Viqi wanted to get away, but suddenly, the ship jumped aside and turned one time around is longitudinal axis, and Onimi had to let go on Viqi to seek some hold. After some moments, the ship found back to its originally course and Onimi approached Viqi in that voluptuous manner one more time to stretch out his shortened hand towards her cleavage. The ship jumped forwards and whirled around his transverse axis and after that Onimi had enough.

"What kind of insubordinate ship is this?", he cursed.

"Perhaps this ship doesn't want any unseemly behavior aboard, for it is alive and has some manners too?", Viqi presumed.

"Our ships are not supposed to develop their own will apart from their pilots, except a Yammosk will but in", Onimi lamented.

"This seems to be a unique ship", Viqi stated. "I've never seen a ship like this before in your fleet."

"I will punish that ship for its insolence after our victory right away", Onimi announced, but from that time on he stayed away from Viqi during the whole flight.

༺═────────────═༻

Nom Anor had watched through macro binoculars as his ship climbed into the Coruscant skies, only when the court jester entered there had been obscured by an artificial, recently created mountain. Once he was sure Onimi was really gone, he headed down to the shaper's area. There he met master shaper Qelah Kwaad.

"Is Viqi Shesh here?" he asked.

The master twisted her lips, which had been slit several times, in a disparaging manner. "You mean that human woman who's been courted by Onimi ever since Nen Yim escaped?"

"Where is she?"

Qelah Kwaad straightened her spine and straightened. "It may be that other people in my trade talk excessively and say things that are none of other people's business, but I'm definitely not one of them."

Though silently offended by the master shaper's snarky tone, Nom Anor was even more annoyed by the fact that Viqi Shesh's whereabouts appeared to be so secret that the Shaper's tongue was tied. If Onimi continued to hold Viqi in his power, or even took her with him, then he couldn't act as freely as planned here on the capital planet. As he ran through the scenarios in his trained agent mind, it always came down to the same option. The court jester would keep Viqi forever, his constant hostage for Nom Anor's goodwill as he guarded his plaeryn bol. This had to stop! What mattered now was how the Jedi behaved, especially which of them would go to Corellia - and they certainly wouldn't be the worst! But there were enough things he could do here, too. Slowly he walked towards Shimrra's throne room.

A thin shadow joined him.

"Drathul?"

"Are you satisfied, High Prefect?" Drathul spoke his new title so that it sounded like an insult. "What have you done besides restating that silly pardon law for the Shamed Ones to unseat me from the intendant's caste throne? Tell me, Nom Anor! Or is it because you left your human harlot to the court jester to play with?"

A fist hit Drathul on the cheek, sending the now only prefect to the ground. "How dare you speak of her like that, Drathul? HER! And what do you actually want from HIM?"

Drathul looked up at his tormentor. A sharp pain shot through his left cheek. Nom Anor had broken his cheekbone! Afterward, if he was lucky, it would make an interesting bump in the face of a still high-ranking intendant - as valuable as a scar. Nom Anor had such facial disfigurements as well, and Drathul wondered which of the former Executor's many enemies might have inflicted them on him. He started to reply as Nom Anor swung back for another blow.

Footsteps sounded their way from the back of the hallway, and Nom Anor's fist, raised for another punch, suddenly opened into a warm, helping hand, the gesture of which offered to the prostrate prefect to pull him off the floor.

"Is it something that requires my shaper skills?" the two men heard Qelah Kwaad's voice.

"Thank you, but no, Master Shaper," Nom Anor replied kindly and courteously, possibly before the victim of his violence could speak. "The prefect just fell and now I'm going to help him up."

"Is that true, Prefect Drathul?" the Shaper asked suspiciously.

Drathul checked his broken cheekbone. Yes, he assured himself quietly, it would surely grow crooked again - without any help from a shaper. "Yes, if the gentleman says so."

With that, he grabbed Nom Anor's yellowish hand and pulled himself up until he was upright again. "Thank you, Nom Anor." Drathul smiled gratefully at his new superior. "If it hadn't been for you..."

Nom Anor jovially patted the former senior on the shoulder, returning his friendly smile. "No problem, my friend. I'm sure you'll be more careful next time."

"That's good," Qelah Kwaad said. "I have an urgent shaper appointment with the Overlord right now, which will take a while. So I guess if you come back like that in a couple of days..."

"I was pleased," Drathul said, glancing first at her, then at Nom Anor, then quickly walking away in the direction Qelah Kwaad had come from.

Nom Anor considered rushing after him, then thought better of it. On the spur of the moment, he donned the ooglith cloak he was Pedric Cuf in and walked incognito to where he had parked his organic ship of Zonama Sekot. There was no one there who he thought had been there long enough to have seen the jester's departure, but he did spot a café beyond the small spaceport. He ran straight there and watched the guests, overheard their conversations.

"My wife left me..."

"... already more expensive again..."

"... I have no idea why even such weird Yuuzhan Vong are now getting into such a human woman. Aren't they cursed somehow?" "Yes, the woman certainly."

There was a hoarse bark—Rodian laughter—and it took Nom Anor less than two minutes for the Rodian couple to tell him in more detail than he wanted to know what had happened on the way to his ship between Onimi and Viqi Shesh.

He returned to the citadel and headed to the office of Chief Priest Jakan.

"High Priest Jakan is at a ceremony," a subaltern told him there.

"Then perhaps the priest Harrar can also help me."

The subaltern's expression brightened. "Priest Harrar is at the Citadel mess hall for lunch now."

"May Yun-Yuuzhan always be kind to you," Nom Anor formally said goodbye and went to the place the man had told him.

It suited him immensely that his next target was sitting alone at the table. He got something to drink so as not to sit at the table without food, sat down and spoke to the priest.

"Yun-Harla to greet you, Harrar. It's been so long since we've talked and worked together, and yet it seems like only yesterday."

"Yes, I think so too," said Harrar, raising a spoonful of his mushroom soup to his mouth, "but our last mission together resulted in my being banished to the Outer Rim and greatly degraded in rank, while you are carrying the High Prefect chain now."

"I am also here to make up for your setback from back then, because new opportunities have arisen."

Harrar arched a skeptical brow and said nothing.

"You'll have new flock to minister to soon," Nom Anor lunged out allusively.

Harrar put the spoon down on the plate, eyes and mouth clenched in extreme caution. "How's that?"

"This is now confidential for you only, my friend: the Shamed Ones shall be rehabilitated or amnestied and some of them will certainly become loyal to us and henceforth abandon what is commonly known as Jedi heresy."

"If you can be frank with me and finally tell me what you want from me, then perhaps I will be frank with you as well, Nom Anor."

"Very well, I'm here to warn you, Harrar: you were seen on Yuuzhan'tar four and a half ket ago with the renegade Shaper Nen Yim, the so-called Prophet of the Shamed Ones named Yu'shaa, and two Jedi in one strange ship and flew away."

Harrar smiled superiorly. "Tell me something I don't know yet."

Nom Anor swallowed. "The question is whether the Overlord knows."

Harrar nodded vigorously. "Of course the Overlord knows of this, for I have given him a detailed account of this voyage."

"But your reports apparently weren't enough to catch a certain Yu'shaa leading those riotous Shamed Ones. Who do you think will be held responsible for this failure if the Chilab who recorded your illicit journey falls into Shimrra's hands?"

Harrar's mouth twisted into a sardonic smile. "My friend, I think you have a different understanding of what it means to right a wrong than I do."

Nom Anor leaned slightly toward him. "I know who Yu'shaa is and where he is right now. If you will help me track down the whereabouts of Onimi's newest shaper adept, Viqi Shesh, and discreetly send her a message from me, my blood will sing an ode of thanks to you for all eternity."

Harrar gave a short laugh. "You sound like one of the Ryn fortune-tellers of this galaxy, but if you're as honorable as those people, then fine with me."

"Then do I have your word?"

Harrar grinned boyishly. "As may Yun-Harla help us both."

"I suppose you don't have my villip anymore?"

Harry nodded. "I was happy to return it to Tsavong Lah's villip-steward after the failure of our joint mission."

Nom Anor gave him a small, brown ball. "Then take a new one here so that I can use it later to convey the message for Viqi Shesh to you. Its wording depends on where the woman is and, most importantly, in whose company. The court jester took them to Corellia, but where he hides her I don't know."

"I'll ask around." Harrar hesitantly accepted the organic medium of communication. "Well, Nom Anor? Which shaper or villip warden did you bribe with something because of that?"

Nom Anor lifted his upper lip briefly, then smiled confidently. "Believe me, Priest Harrar, I don't need to bribe anyone for such, for I know exactly where to find these things."

Harry nodded. "Except for Viqi Shesh."

"Unfortunately, I have other things to do here before I can get to her," Nom Anor replied genantly.

"Then I will find Viqi Shesh for you," the priest promised. "And just between us: You didn't have to blackmail me or intimidate me before for such a matter of the heart."

Nom Anor smiled a pin-point smile. "Well, you know me." He glanced down at himself and only then drank some of his drink. "Do you really recognize the matter of the heart in me so well?"

Harrar's black eyes crinkled as he smiled back at Nom Anor. "Such things do not escape a priest of Yun-Harla. But if you later resort to such brute force methods with Yu'shaa as with me in the beginning, then I do hope that once he's been tracked down and exposed, he'll still be alive."

Nom Anor nodded eagerly and silently, at the same time wondering how much this priest really knew about him.

This chapter contains events from the book series "New Jedi Order", vol. 4. "Hero's Trial" (2000) and vol. 19. "The Unifying Force" (2003), both by James Luceno.