A day later on Coruscant, uhm … Yuuzhan'tar

In front of the former Senate building, the prisoners, mainly enemy commanders and pilots, who had been specially washed for the day and dressed in white linen, were waiting for their fate to be fulfilled. The sounds of shrill shawms rang out and the smell of incense filled the air. The ex-warrior Kunra mingled with the Shamed Ones of Yu'shaa's entourage among the Yuuzhan Vong overseeing the ceremony.

At last time had come.

A priest had drawn his coral knife to flay his sacrificial candidate—a meagerly horned Zabrak—alive. The priest swung his arm out sharply as that knife and hand were severed from the arm. Stunned, the mutilated priest stared at his arm stump, which was hanging uselessly in the air over the back of the victim, while the hand and knife fell to the ground with an impact, whose sound was muffled by the loud background noises of the sacrificial ceremony.

"That's not how you imagined this sacrifice to happen, priest, did you?" his tormentor sneered, a Shamed One who hadn't even had his nose cut off like a proper Yuuzhan Vong.

"May even Yun-Shuno not hear your prayers, you filthy Vhlekin!", the priest grunted back.

"That's right," the man thus insulted retorted. "If you're going to sacrifice, then please your own body parts."

The priest bent down to use his other hand to pick up his knife and use it to punish the outrageously Shamed One, when a muscular man, whom the priest identified as a warrior, broke in. The man had no blemishes of the physical kind known from other Shamed Ones, just his clothes... As it dawned on the priest, who had just got up with his knife, that the attacker might be a deserter, the new challenger kicked him with his right foot straight into the privates, which were inadequately protected by the plain black linen robe the priest wore. Before the attacker's leap onto his neck shattered his throat and spine moments later, while the warrior's arms were already occupied with more opponents, the priest's eyes saw the Zabrak slip away safe and still unflayed, after saying thanks to his savior in the Yuuzhan Vong language. Other Shamed Ones appeared in his dimming vision, following the beacon, drawing weapons real or makeshift—a dagger, flashing in the sun, aimed at a colleague, then his lashless eyelids closed forever.

Kunra stood next to the body of the priest - his first victim in this struggle for liberation.

"Even though he wasn't a worthy opponent, I wish Yu'shaa had seen me do it."

"Honestly," said his interlocutor, "I rather wish Anakin were here."

"You know that's impossible," Kunra replied, trying to squeeze as much comfort into his words as possible. "Maybe something happened to the Prophet too."

"I don't think so." Uunu put her hands on her hips, looking around for new challenges. "The prophet has been gone for so long now, without giving a damn about us who are shamed, that he doesn't need to come back now."

"He's got a good core, Uunu," Kunra said, "and hope dies last."

"Yes, but then she'll die too," the young woman replied and swept her arm around in a wide semicircle to ram her coufee directly into a priest's chest before she untied the prisoner's bonds, whom the now killed priest had already stripped the skin off half the back of the head from the skull.

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Meanwhile in Shimrra's citadel ship

Entering Shimrra's inner sanctum, Prefect Drathul stopped dead when he saw Nom Anor standing next to the red haupolype throne, right where the misshapen court jester Onimi loitered usually. His throat, which was already dry as a bone, seemed to be becoming rotten and he felt as if his throat would burst at the words that he shouldn't say now - in Nom Anor's presence.

Mindful of the general rule that one should never look directly into the face of the Highest One unless asked, he looked at Shimrra's feet - and got a new shock. The Overlord wore six toes on each foot, and the claw of each toe was painted exactly one color of the rainbow—according to the color wheel, from red to purple. So that's why Master Shaper Qelah Kwaad spent two full days here.

"Now, Prefect Drathul, what is on your battered intendant's heart?" Shimrra asked gently.

Drathul hesitated. He had never seen the Overlord in such a good mood. "So I... my domain..."

"Oh come on," Shimrra said affably. "Surely you're here to complain to me about the fact that Nom Anor now wears the High Prefect chain and not you. Isn't that so?"

Drathul lowered his eyes so that he was staring at his own feet instead of the Overlord's.

"Look me in the eye, Prefect!"

Shimrra's voice had sounded very demanding and Drathul obediently raised his eyes. He saw bright blue eyes that looked at him understandingly and relaxed, as if the harsh request for eye contact hadn't existed before. Shimrra had never looked like this during an audience, and he never got to see the Overlord outside of the audience.

"I wanted to inquire more about the how," the prefect began, clearing his throat before continuing, "whether it was in your interest that Onimi snatched the High Prefect chain from my neck and not you, to make Nom Anor my successor."

Silence fell over the room and Drathul continued. "I noticed that the chain snapped and flew into Onimi's hand before he even touched it. I saw it clearly, felt the pull - and then the stone of the chain was suddenly in Onimi's hand."

He saw Nom Anor's good eye suddenly grow as large as his Plaeryn Bol, but his new superior said nothing. Shimrra suddenly seemed very deep in thought - the large eyes sulphurous yellow, then the Overlord turned to Nom Anor and asked him in a stern voice. "Is that true, Nom Anor? Did Onimi savagely tear this necklace from Drathul to hand it to you afterwards?"

Nom Anor kept a straight face. "If the gentleman says so. I am still waiting for the ceremony that will make this change of office official."

"And, Nom Anor?" Shimrra's eyes had turned into a saffron yellow tone. "Is there anything else you're waiting for?"

Nom Anor waited a tad too long, that his answer could be passed as authentic anymore. "For the moment, that we will finally announce the new Shamed Ones Rehabilitation Act."

"Yes, and I know why!" Drathul burst out, disregarding any etiquette. "Because he sympathizes with the Shamed Ones, if not he is the one behind their insubordination that we have had to endure or acknowledge over and over again for nine klekket now!"

"Watch your tongue, Drathul!" Nom Anor threatened.

"I don't care now that I'm obviously cleared to be shot after this humiliation. It's just a matter of time," Drathul replied stoically. " I also have good evidence to believe that it was you who killed my predecessor after Tsavong Lah's death, to cover up your failure - or even your treachery!"

He turned back to Shimrra. "Like the way he keeps walking on our noses and tricking all of us here - you, Overlord, and Onimi too!"

If Shimrra was offended by the fact, that the prefect, whose honor as a high Intendant was severely damaged, had named him and Onimi on an equal footing and in the same breath, he didn't show it, addressing Nom Anor again instead. "Is that correct? Did you kill the former High Prefect after Tsavong Lah fell on Ebaq 9?"

Nom Anor shook his head in disgust. "No, it must have been that Yu'shaa, the so-called prophet of the Shamed Ones."

"You were absent for quite some time after Tsavong Lah's death, Nom Anor," the Overlord came to another point. "Wouldn't you like to tell us what happened to you during this time?"

"The Jedi captured me and locked me in a cramped prison cell," Nom Anor began to tell in a solemn voice. "Every now and then, Secret Service people would drop by to question me, but the worst of it were their scientists, who took samples from me and my Plaeryn Bol and put me in an induced coma so they could examine me undisturbed. Sometimes I didn't know if it was night or day until I managed to gain the trust of a Jedi who took me on that journey - to that planet whose name..."

Shimrra raised a hand. "It must have been a hard, deprived time for you, Nom Anor."

"Do you believe these tall tales?!" Drathul's scrawny finger seemed to impale Nom Anor. "And who ambushed the Damuteks of the intendants and the shapers by using codes to give the Shamed Ones things as only a skilled Intendant like you can?"

Shimrra's eyes, now orange, met Nom Anor, but it wasn't the pressure in his gaze the former secret agent was used to from past audiences.

"Yu'shaa was also responsible for these raids on the Damuteks," the High Prefect said calmly.

"And who took Nen Yim to Zonama Sekot?" Shimrra suddenly yelled at Nom Anor, his eyes suddenly turning fiery red.

"It was Yu'shaa! It was Yu'shaa!" Nom Anor replied, voice high and tight.

"It's all lies and lame excuses!" Drathul exclaimed. "If not even he himself is Yu'shaa! From what I have heard, that self-appointed prophet always wears a mask."

Nom Anor stared at Drathul with his good eye, then fell down like a wet sack before the Haupolype throne and moved no more.

Stunned, Drathul looked at his prone foe. "What has he?"

Shimrra's eyes had suddenly turned green. "You may be right, Prefect Drathul," the Overlord said slowly. "Two souls appear to dwell in Nom Anor's chest; who knows what those Galactic Alliance scientists have been manipulating on his body or brain during the time of his captivity. To me it boils down, that Nom Anor in the state of consciousness is blaming that Yu'shaa for whatever misdeeds he committed. His brain just splits that part of his personality off of Nom Anor."

Drathul had to struggle hard not to let his inner smirk leak out. "But can Nom Anor still be High Prefect in such a state? Can he even..."

"Hurry and get a shaper who can examine and heal him," Shimrra said, his words the pounding staccato of a rain of thud bugs.

Drathul rushed out of the chamber. No sooner had the other intendant gone, than Nom Anor rose from the ground. Shimrra leapt down from his red, rickety throne and reached out his paw to smack Nom Anor's yellow palm, also outstretched, in a companionable high-five.

"By Yun-Harla, that was fun!" Shimrra grunted happily. "Not even Onimi has offered me such a big theater before."

Nom Anor smiled proudly. "I'm glad I was able to amuse the Overlord like this."

"Then hurry after that idiot of a former high prefect now and bring him down for good. Drathul knows too much, and I know I can count on you for that!"

Nom Anor replayed the high five with the Overlord and glanced at Shimrra's hands before turning and walking to the door membrane. Yes, Qelah Kwaad had done a great job giving the Overlord not only six toes on each foot, but also six fingers on each hand, the claws of which now shone in all six colors of the rainbow.

"And after the murder, go out and finally promulgate the Rehabilitation Act for the Shamed Ones," Shimrra called after him. "There is a sacrifice ceremony taking place below, and a priest will no doubt provide you with a miri'zip, so that your voice, thus amplified, may be heard throughout the great square."

Nom Anor hurried down the passageway, closer and closer to the thin silhouette of his soon-to-be victim.

Drathul turned to him. "Congratulations on your miraculous recovery, High Prefect, or should I say … Yu'shaa."

Nom Anor was only a few steps away from him now, and in his firm hands Drathul saw an amphistaff, ready to stab or bite. The other was already raising the warrior's weapon to strike as the ground beneath his feet began to vibrate. Drathul fell backwards onto his back, just managing to catch himself on the ground with both hands to protect his spine. Frightened, his dark eyes looked up to see some mosaic tiles that had come loose from the ceiling as a result of the tremor and fell on and around him, forcing him to look away to save his eyes from dust and debris as well. He saw that Nom Anor had gone down as well, but moments later he picked himself up, just leapt past Drathul and ran outside.

Drathul's first thought was: Don't follow him! But the trembling didn't stop, and so he ran after the adversary anyway. Outside the citadel there was a jumble of priests, Shamed Ones and warriors. Drathul noticed that some of the Shamed Ones were carrying weapons, and he stopped beside Nom Anor. When both men looked up at the evening sky, they saw a moon there - and what a moon it was - with hints of blue, green and brown around it and white for a putative polar cap.

"Too big for a moon," Drathul said.

"But it's just the right size for a wandering planet like Zonama Sekot," Nom Anor replied dryly.

"Then I would suggest that we work out our differences later," Drathul suggested. "And I'm sorry about what I said about your intima two days ago. I don't even know her."

"And it should stay that way," Nom Anor muttered, then removed the High Prefect's chain and held it out to Drathul.

Drathul hesitated. "And you give it to me … just for good?"

Nom Anor smiled confidently. "What Onimi can do, I can do for a long time."

"I've heard a lot about Zonama Sekot," Drathul said, "but now that the planet has such an impact on you, it really scares me."

"Save your fears for Shimrra's vengeance and take back that damn necklace," Nom Anor replied, rattling the brown hollowstone - the heart of the High Prefect Necklace - in his hand. "Or I'll have a change of heart."

You should get a completely new heart! Drathul smiled faintly and took the necklace back. "Well, if the gentleman says so."

Nom Anor turned from him and suddenly was gone in the throng of Shamed Ones, bewildered priests, and fleeing victims before he could even ask what he intended to do now. Drathul shrugged as he surveyed the ruined sacrificial ceremony, then he looked down at the chain in his hand. Suddenly he got the feeling that this return was less an act of guilt to make amends on, but rather a poisoned gift served with a sinister intention.

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He looked out of the small window from which, unlike other Yuuzhan Vong, he could easily look out at eye level with his stately height of 2.60 meters. The ground trembled beneath his feet, but he knew it would endure, for the citadel was organic and prepared for such eventualities. It was already dark outside the window and two of only three moons of the capital planet could be seen. The third just spanned the far side of the capital planet, but the fourth moon had been reshaped into a web of light that ringed the new capital planet of the reborn Yuuzhan Vong Empire. But stop! To the right of the window frame, the third moon slid into view—but Shimrra had been on Coruscant long enough to know it was far too early. And how big that moon was! He could clearly make out the blue and white patches—seas and polar caps of a multiclimate world. How was that possible?

Bracing himself against the walls to keep from falling as the tremors intensified, he wondered if the uprising of the Shamed Ones Onimi had spoken of two days ago would be stunted or spurred by the emergence of the new celestial body . More glowing objects appeared in the sky—arranged in a military formation—the Mon Cala Infidel fleet—just as Onimi had predicted.

This chapter contains events from the book series "New Jedi Order", vol. 19. "The Unifying Force" by James Luceno (2003)