The other day on Coruscant

Onimi and the High Prefect Drathul were in a room that smelled strongly of curdled egg white, to have the head of the Yuuzhan Vong Intendant caste recite the explanation that was to improve the fate of some of the Shamed Ones in the long term.

"…all Shamed Ones are raised to the rank of free laborers who do not exhibit any physical defects that in any way impair their ability to work. Ability to work is recognized if the work performance of the person concerned corresponds to at least seventy percent of the determined average value in the respective occupational category.

Former shapers will be rehabilitated if they are still able to wield special shaper hands and..."

Onimi yawned heartily and demonstratively in the direction of the lecturer, without covering his mouth with his hand.

"… no major projects were harmed by those concerned.

Ex-warriors are immediately rehabilitated to their former caste and reintegrated into their former domain unless they have dishonorably deserted combat or their unit. Exceptions to this are those cases where harassment or other unjustified measures led to unauthorized removal from the unit, but only if there are suitable witnesses or written documents that prove..."

Onimi stepped up to the man, who was as thin like him, and snatched the parchment from his hand. Drathul paled a sickly hue and was about to open his mouth in protest when Onimi forestalled him:

"Not aware of any speech hack?
You spawn of a paragraph quednak!
We want to win the the Shamed Ones support,
not them singing taunts at us and snort."

"But you said..." Drathul began hesitantly, but the Overlord's jester had already torn the laboriously devised and formulated parchment into a thousand shreds.

"I wish to speak to the Overlord at once," Drathul gathered his courage.

"The Overlord is sleeping!" Onimi barked authoritatively. "And I decide when you get to see him!"

He stretched out his blue hand, and the chain with the hollow stone of Yun-Harla, which the chief intendant wore around his scrawny neck, was wrenched from him. Drathul blinked; he felt as if Onimi hadn't even touched the chain at first. There had been a few crizts missing - yes, definitely before the jester's hand had closed tightly around the brown stone... the chain had already come loose from his neck - and it had hurt, incising his neck in the process. Or was he just so upset that his perception had played tricks on him?

"This necklace will be worn by someone more worthy from now on," Onimi sneered, shaking the stone, and something inside rattled loudly and audibly inside the cavity. "But I will be merciful, and grant you the requested audience with the Overlord - as soon as he is awake."

The court jester waved his other hand impatiently at the door. Drathul understood the gesture and immediately disappeared.

When the new visitor entered, the court jester was in a much better mood, although he hid it well at first.

"Well Nom Anor, you have returned rather late."

"Cal Omas has sent an emissary to Zonama Sekot to warn the planet. I managed to follow him, and in the process found out that all the important Jedi are gathered on Zonama Sekot and busy tending a biologist friend so that she might recover from a rather dramatic kidnapping by locals. The hostility of the local populace should divert the Jedi's attention from more important matters for now. Is Corellia already ours, and is Centerpoint in position to fire?"

"Nas Choka quickly conquered the system – a little too quickly for my taste. I await the Warmaster's report any moment. What about Mon Cala?"

Nom Anor smiled evilly. "As expected, Cal Omas and his advisors didn't believe me when I announced the attack on Corellia. They're most likely sending an army to Coruscant, uhm, Yuuzhan'tar."

Onimi grinned crookedly. "Never mind, my friend, that happens to me occasionally too." He held the chain up with the hollow rattlestone. "This favor of Yun-Harla is for the one whose negotiation and organizational skills I owe the early grandiose success for our people."

Nom Anor bowed. There it was at last: the long-awaited promotion to High Prefect. And yet somehow it came ... too quickly for his liking.

"Mustn't the Overlord do that in ceremony?"

Onimi shrugged. "The Overlord is currently asleep, but the ceremony will of course be rescheduled if that is so important to you."

"How did Drathul take it?" asked Nom Anor, looping the chain around his neck.

"Drathul has recognized his place, at least he should."

"Then may I please see Viqi Shesh now?"

Onimi slowly waved the right hand that had held the chain before. "All in good time, my friend. Viqi is in the process of making a major breakthrough in Grutchin research. I don't want her to be disturbed. And I know from you that you appreciate capable shapers. Isn't that so?"

"But …"

Onimi with the same hand made a chopping motion. "The post of High Prefect should be sufficient advance von'u* for you, Nom Anor. But you will get the girl back only after the final defeat of the enemy. And don't forget that it was you who caused Nen Yim, Viqi's predecessor, to be lost to me on Zonama Sekot. You're going to have to work harder to make up for that loss."

"But isn't Qelah Kwaad also an excellent master shaper?" Nom Anor objected. "After all, she was Nen Yim's most promising adept."

"Qelah Kwaad is an ugly, boring Mon Duul*. With her qualifications she may be just about fit to do Shimrra Jamaane's bi-weekly manicure and pedicure, but it takes more qualities to satisfy a man of mind and sensuality like me."

Nom Anor struggled to control his good eye, lest it roll up in disgust at this self-praise. "And what may I, as High Prefect, please you with now?"

Onimi pointed to the snippets of Drathul's blueprint for amnesty and rehabilitation for the Shamed Ones on the floor. "Write a sane amnesty and rehabilitation law for the Shamed Ones and then..."

A villip servant entered the room. "The Warmaster, Jester, is the Overlord...?"

Onimi impatiently snatched the brown ball from the Villip servant's hand. "Onimi, is that…" asked Nas Choka's image.

"Shimrra is sleeping, what is it?" Onimi asked surly.

"Court Jester, the Centerpoint Station is basically operational, only that Peace Brigade man named Salkeli is unable to position Centerpoint as desired and thus finally get it ready to fire. And unfortunately, I don't have a willing Jedi on hand to lend a helping hand either."

"What about Thrackan Sal-Solo? He's not a Jedi. And didn't he then too...?"

"Thrackan says his nephew Anakin did the fine-tuning work beforehand. He himself is not able to do that."

"If this action fails, you should seek refuge with Yun-Shuno*, Warmaster", Onimi threatened, "Why do I always have to do everything myself?"

Nom Anor smirked silently as Nas Choka could not see him beyond the villip. If the Warmaster felt humiliated by the Shamed One Onimi's words, he gave no sign of it. Instead, Nas Choka's villip image raised its finely arched brows in astonishment. "What do you mean, court jester - by to do everything yourself?"

"I myself will go to Corellia and make the station fully operational. Prepare everything for my arrival!"

"You?" Nas Choka wondered. "And the Overlord?"

"Sits here on Coruscant and rules, what else?" Onimi snapped, then flipped the villip inside out, possibly before the Warmaster could point out the mistake in naming the capital of the reborn Yuuzhan Vong Empire.

"When are you leaving?" Nom Anor asked after the villip servant had left.

"At once," Onimi said, "you will hold the fort here and advise our Overlord should he wake."

He saw Nom Anor's good eye gleam, the newly-made High Prefect bowing to him, curt but resolutely devoted.

Onimi giggled. "Good, Nom Anor... good!"

"May I do anything else for you until you leave?"

"Yes, you can give me your amazing ship from Zonama Sekot that you used to get here from there - it's supposed to be so fast."

"Well, it doesn't fly with everyone," Nom Anor pointed out. "I had to suggest to him quite strongly that I was a good friend of Nen Yim to let me fly with it."

Onimi laughed shrilly and bounced around the room.

"Nen Yim's friends are my friends too -
I'm Nen Yim's friend though she might deem me her foe."

"It works like our ships, and you put your hand on the organic door", Nom Anor explained when Onimi had finished bumbling. "If the ship likes you, it will let you in."

Onimi clapped his hands. "Wonderful, wonderful! Then just tell me where it is and then go and write the new draft of the new law for the rehabilitation and redemption of the Shamed Ones immediately."

"I don't need to write it down, I already know the words by heart," Nom Anor contradicted.

"But the files, Nom Anor, the files," Onimi purred dramatically. "Aren't you intendants enough to understand their importance?"

Realizing that Onimi wanted him out of the way, Nom Anor told him the ship's location and went to his chambers to write the desired draft of the new law.

༺═────────────═༻

Viqi Shesh flinched as the door membrane to the experimental working chamber she had been imprisoned by Shimrra's court jester in retreated. A small Grutchin larva fell from her hand and she stooped to hurry to retrieve it. She remembered the moment when her nom Anor, then known as Amorrn, dumped those granite slugs at her feet so that she could use them to cook a stew for the Shamed Ones. At that time she too had bent down just as quickly to catch the small animals ... When she looked up again, she froze, less in shock than in amazement. Instead of the gray linen suit Onimi had worn earlier, his lanky frame was now clad in a tan jumpsuit of the kind worn by pilots of New Republic flying squadrons on missions.

"Soon in utmost joy we'll dance.
Because from now on I'm flying for the Galactic Alliance.
To bring the good news so far:
The last hour has struck this war."

Viqi bit her bottom lip nervously. A test? "And the Overlord?"

"Pffft!" made Onimi. "You believe every crap, don't you? I just like to dress up every now and then. But I'll admit, your backside was even more uplifting when you stooped for the Grutchin larva."

Finally he examined the grutchin larvae designed by Viqi. "Very good, Viqi," Onimi praised her before his gaze settled on her naked body again, "you are truly edifying to look at, but now you should really put some clothes on; you can't go out with people like that."

Viqi appraised his skinny figure in the slightly oversized flight suit. "Is Nom Anor back already?"

"Yes he is. He's just been made High Prefect, and in return he's agreed to give you up for a while so you can complete your education under my aegis, isn't that wonderful?"

Viqi tried to manage a steady smile. "Yes, indeed, Onimi. Where are we going?"

"To Corellia, the battle station called Centerpoint will be operational again soon. I will operate it myself and you shall witness the firepower of this station up there – and my skills."

Viqi's nostrils flared. "Which world will the destination be?"

The court jester took three villips out of his pocket and placed them in a row on the table in front of him. Then he began to quickly swap the living communication balls so that one was on the left, one on the right, and one in the middle.

"Yes, which world do you think the destination will be?
Tynna, Corellia, Bothawui?
But none of them has the format
maybe I'd rather aim at...

Viqi paled as she finished the rhyme silently. Was the battle station really and truly operational anytime soon? And was this quirky court jester really able to serve Centerpoint to completion?

"You will sign here and now that you are no longer Nom Anor's mate," Onimi demanded. "Otherwise I finish the quatrain with rhymes. And that's where I'll fire Centerpoint too!"

Viqi's gaze froze, then she slowly retrieved a piece of parchment and a pen. She picked up the pen and wrote something. Then she gave Onimi the writing.

The court jester took the note and his whole form shook with anger as he read:

"It's the same like before.
I belong to Nom Anor."

"Let's see for how long!" Onimi croaked defiantly. "Nom Anor is already wearing the Chief Prefect's necklace and I guarantee he'd rather keep it than take you back after I'm done with you, Viqi Tsup*!"

This chapter contains events from the book series "New Jedi Order" Vol. 8 "Edge of Victory II: Rebirth" by Greg Keyes (2001); Vol. 17 "Against All Hope" by Shane Dix and Sean Williams and Vol. 19. "The Unifying Force" by James Luceno (2003)

*Mon Duul - A type of organic speaker that is very large and baggy

*Yun-Harla – Goddess of trickster and patron of the intendants among the Yuuzhan Vong

*Yun-Shuno - Goddess and patron of the Shamed Ones among the Yuuzhan Vong

*Von'u - Candy of the Yuuzhan Vong

*Tsup - in the Yuuzhan Vong language, a word for a slave who serves his master in an unseemly way.