Half a day later on Yuuzhan'tar

"Surround the citadel!" ordered Commander Malik Carr, to whom Nas Choka during his mission over Corellia had placed command of the troops remaining on the Yuuzhan Vong capital planet.

Luke Skywalker emerged from the entrance of Shimrra's massive residence ship and mounted the Mon Duul, which still lay helpless in the moat that encircled the citadel ship. "The Overlord is dead and his jester Onimi in Galactic Alliance custody. From now on, High Prefect Drathul will act as provisional leader of the Yuuzhan Vong until you choose a new leader."

"Heretical Jedi! You killed Shimrra!" Malik Carr exclaimed, his shirtless upper body, covered with numerous scars and tattoos, glistening in the Coruscant sun.

"No, it was Onimi himself."

"Impossible! Onimi is on Corellia. Nas Choka told me that himself!"

"But listen..."

"No, don't listen to him!" Malik Carr shouted at his subordinates. "Attack!"

Malik Carr lunged forward and his amphistaff lashed out at Luke Skywalker. "Finally a challenge!" the commander shouted, just as the amphistaff suddenly reversed and bit the commander in the forearm.

Horrified, Malik Carr looked at the bleeding, poisoned wound. "Shapers! Shapers!" he exclaimed desperately. "There I am, a robust Yuuzhan Vong, a proud warrior of a people who knows no disease, come this far only to be bitten by my own amphistaff like a bloody novice from the Peace Brigade!"

He looked to his troops, but his men were also struggling with bites from their amphistaffs. Thud bugs had escaped from the soldiers' harnesses and were scurrying about on the ground, causing many a stumble and fall of the attacking warriors.

"Don't worry, Commander, Shaper assistance will be forthcoming if you surrender," Luke promised.

"I don't believe a word you say!" Malik Carr exclaimed angrily. "And since when can you Jedi influence our weapons?"

"The Jedi can't, but I can."

Malik Carr spun around and saw a small purple bird creature. Immediately he clenched his fist. "Vergere, you lousy little...!"

A tall shaper with a lavish snake headdress pushed her way between the commander and the small, fragile-looking figure.

"Has anyone ordered a shaper here?" Qelah Kwaad stopped him. "You're not going to insult our new home, are you?"

Reluctantly, Malik Carr paused, and the master shaper took the moment to take a closer look at the commander's arm.

"Since Zonama Sekot hails from your former galaxy, I, as the spirit of the planet, am perfectly capable of commanding your weapons as to what is right and wrong," Sekot explained to the Supreme Commander, while Qelah Kwaad set to work injecting antiserum to the amphibian venom into the bitten man's arm.

Malik Carr's gaze was a single charge. "Would it have been too much to ask to pull that trick before Tsavong Lah led our troops to their doom on Ebaq 9?"

Sekot blinked a red eye. "I suppose Vergere was wise enough at the time to find the proper method and timing to deliver the one you call Tsavong Lah to his righteous fate. However, you are being saved, so be thankful."

Malik Carr opened his mouth for an appropriate reply as the ditch began to bubble loudly.

"I believe a message is coming in via the Mon Duul," Luke said, and together with Tahiri and the Overlord's former bodyguard, he managed to lift the massive transmission beast out of the ditch and stand it upright.

"Here is a message from High Prefect Drathul. The Yuuzhan Vong are now part of the Galactic Alliance, and hence their troops are now under the supreme command of Admiral Traest Kre'fey, who oversaw the reconquest of Coruscant."

"Oversaw," Malik Carr repeated wearily, recognition in his dark eyes. "I've always wished for a vengeful Bothan for being my superior. The long, arduous journey to this galaxy was truly worth it. And I could never remember the name Yuuzhan'tar for this world anyway."

"Yes, I said it right away," confirmed Qelah Kwaad. "That name just doesn't feel right for this world."

༺═────────────═༻

By the time Harrar and Viqi reached Coruscant, Commander Malik Carr's occupying forces had already completely surrendered to the Bothan admiral's forces.

Nom Anor was waiting at the landing site along with Kunra when the Sekotan ship descended. He had donned his finest intendant's robes, which featured a row of yorik coral spikes radiating down the upper back, giving him a sort of aura. No sooner had the green ship landed and its aisle tongue rolled out from the hatch, than Nom Anor opened his arms to greet Viqi, but his beloved stayed an arm's length away from him, not returning the gesture, the gaze of her green eyes frozen like chlorine ice. A chill ran down Nom Anor's spine.

"I've heard it before," Nom Anor said, puffing out his chest to cover his irritation. "Onimi is in custody and the Yuuzhan Vong are part of the Galactic Alliance now. Everything turned out exactly as I have foreseen it."

"Yes, you planned everything!" she replied sarcastically. "You left me to Onimi knowing full well what a voluptuous creep he is! What did you think you were doing?"

"What do you mean?" His formerly outstretched arms struck a soothing pose.

She looked down. "He wanted what was previously yours only."

Nom Anor's face took on a thoughtful expression. "I thought it was quite unusual that he let you dance like that in public. But that he would go so far..."

"Unusual? You found that unusual?" Anger flushed Viqi's cheeks. "I can think of far more drastic words that I would have wanted to hear from you at this point."

He spread his arms again. "But now the nightmare is over. And it was only a few days."

"A few days when I didn't know if you would deign to come back to me - or if my home planet would still exist."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, we all have unpleasant duties to attend to at times."

"You should have prepared me!"

"You are a smart girl, Viqi. I knew you would..."

"Yeah yeah, you already said that after the Overlord's forces almost destroyed all the Shamed Ones in Kunra's lair—including me, before you even deigned to rescue me!"

"Hold on!" Kunra spoke up. "We were looking for Viqi everywhere at the time because we were afraid something had happened to her, and so she was with you the whole time, Nom? And you didn't tell us anything?"

"You can't tell anyone everything in a conflict like this," Nom Anor defended himself, then turned to Viqi. "My secrecy was for your protection and that of the other Shamed Ones."

"You made a nice life with Viqi at the Overlord's citadel while we were once again forced to find a new home!" Kunra accused Nom Anor. "And who do you think sent the troops to spare Viqi exactly?" His knotted index finger seemed about to dig into Nom Anor's chest. "We found Shoon-mii's corpse upstairs - murdered with the poison of a Plaeryn Bol! And don't dare say someone else with a Plaeryn Bol did it! Why? Has Shoon-mii found you out? Did he want to confront you?"

"Shoon-mi hassled me unduly so that was fine," Viqi jumped to Nom Anor's side. "And the law to put the Shamed Ones on an equal footing with the rest of the Yuuzhan Vong was his idea, too."

His good eye smiled at her. "Thank you Viqi."

She didn't return the smile. "But what I don't thank you for at all is that you sent the priest Harrar forward to greet me incognito—in a way I thought you did it yourself."

"I am immensely honored by your recognition of my acting talent, Viqi Shesh," said Harrar.

"And I thought you would come personally to rid me of Onimi," Viqi scolded Nom again, "instead you sat here and..."

"Far from sitting around, I tended to the Shamed Ones, just as I did as Yu'shaa before," Nom Anor countered.

"You were Yu'shaa?" Harrar asked, dumbfounded.

"I'm a good actor too," Nom Anor said proudly. "And I'm extremely pleased that you really didn't notice it the whole time we spent together on Zonama Sekot." He turned to Viqi, who was still eyeing him disapprovingly. "But you know it. And while you were wonderfully buying time at Centerpoint that it took Harrar and Dean Jinzler to..."

"I thought I'd never get away from there...get away from Onimi!" she cried out indignantly. "My home planet was almost destroyed!"

"My home planet has been destroyed for over a thousand years," Nom Anor replied calmly. "And you're a politician, so look at it this way: you did it all for the good of the New Republic...I mean...the Galactic Alliance."

"I'm not a politician anymore!" she snapped at him. "And anyway, I've always been more interested in business than I have in politics."

He touched his chin with a musing expression. "I remember. Well, I would definitely think of something to make up for that..."

Viqi's eyebrows lowered dangerously. "There you have your making up!" Saying that, she pulled the bikini from Jabba's palace from her pouch and hung it on Nom Anor's protruding chin. "That's it, Thrushbeard!"

Spoke it and threw the matching panties with the long loincloth in front of his feet, which were in heavy leather boots. Then she turned and strode away, head held high.

"How ungrateful you are!" he yelled after her angrily, ripped the bikini off his chin and threw it on the ground to the accompanying loincloth. "Who in the Lower Levels was whining in my ears how awful Tsavong Lah was that we finally had to get rid of him? And who came up with the plan? You?"

"You only did that for yourself and your rise to Shimrra's court," Viqi ironed that out and continued walking.

"Just wait and see, Viqi!" Nom Anor called after her menacingly. "There are definitely other women who are interested in me."

"So it was you who lured our then Warmaster to Ebaq 9?", Harrar asked in dismay after Viqi was out of sight. "Because of … her?"

Nom Anor nodded, staring into the direction where Viqi had gone.

"Nom Anor, how could you do that?", asked Harrar, stunned. "Tsavong Lah had been my friend! I was about to talk to him about ending this war sooner and convincing him to renounce his hatred of the Jedi once and for all, but you stole his chance to redeem himself as I did. What's more, you've been pretending all this time that Ebaq 9 was just an unfortunate mistake - until now."

"That's how I set my priorities back then," Nom Anor snapped at the priest. "And anyway: Everything turned out exactly as everyone here had wished, didn't it? The Shamed Ones are equals now, the war is over, the Yuuzhan Vong are at peace with everyone else in this galaxy. What is Tsavong Lah's life compared to all that?"

Harrar bowed his head. "Tsavong Lah had been my friend - my best friend."

"That's enough for me!" Nom Anor roared at Harrar. "I have devised an ingenious plan to solve virtually all of the galaxy's problems in one fell swoop, and what do I reap? Nothing but ingratitude, reproaches and being abandoned! Naughty rabble, unrepentant bunglers, envious gang of ignoramuses! Lousy amateurs! I can't stand it anymore!"

With these words he turned from Harrar and strode away.

"Oh, just because you mentioned earlier that other women are interested in you, Nom Anor..." Harrar called after him.

Nom Anor turned back to him. "That's exactly what I intend to do now, Harrar, I'm not a ruffian. I just have to get the Qang Qahsa."

Instead of an answer, Harrar bent down and picked up the bikini and loincloth that had embarrassed Viqi at Centerpoint.

"Yes, just take this local trinket with you," Nom Anor said condescendingly to the priest, "and give it to the woman of your heart, and she will love you forever."

Harrar weighed both in his three-fingered hands. "Is that a local legend?"

"No," Nom Anor snapped back, "that was just a joke and I made it myself. Of course she won't love you, but hate you forever! And if you're not careful," his good eye glittered maliciously, "then she'll assassinate you."

With a jerk, Nom Anor finally turned and left the landing pad. Hearing the voices of the people on the landing pad die away behind him, he was making his way toward the central Damutek of Intendants when he felt someone tug on his sleeve from behind.

The unexpected touch electrified him, and Nom swung around, a sharpened coufee knife in his ready right hand, pointing straight at Luke Skywalker's chest.

Luke smiled. "Actually, I just wanted to order a glass of blue milk."

Nom Anor's good eye grew as big as his plaeryn bol. "What?"

Luke smiled excusingly. "Oh, that was just a joke."

"Maybe the Jedi too have something to nag about me?" Nom Anor asked the Jedi Master coldly.

"On the contrary," Luke assured the Yuuzhan Vong. "I'm supposed to give you greetings from Head of State Cal Omas. He lets you know that, given your services to peace and this galaxy in general, he has considered elevating you to the rank of Special Consul of the Galactic Alliance, if you agree. In a week there will be a victory celebration ceremony on Yavin IV where the medals and certificates of rank will be awarded. Will you come?"

Nom Anors heard Luke's suggestion as if from afar. Among the Yuuzhan Vong, a consul was even less than a prefect, and he had never intended to truly become a citizen of the New Republic, nay, the Galactic Alliance. What would Harrar, Qelah Kwaad, Drathul, or... He wondered why he was suddenly so interested in what others thought of him.

"Yes, of course."

"Then see you in a week on Yavin IV," Luke said happily in farewell and left.

Nom Anor scratched his head. Did he really just say that? How come? In that case, would he be some kind of Dean Jinzler – a diplomat on a perpetual missionary journey, only as Yuuzhan Vong? No, never! He had to find a way to credibly and face-saving undo the promise made in the trance of flat rejection before. What excuse, what pretext would be best suited for this? He decided to think about it later during the long flight. It took about five minutes, then he entered the Intendant's central damutek to pack up Nen Yim's qang qahsa and his own travel belongings.

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