Two weeks later on Coruscant

The Galactic Alliance government's move from Mon Cala back to Coruscant was a little slower than planned due to the election campaign, but it enabled Nom Anor to spend more time on the old and anew capital planet and to wipe the dust off the furniture in his apartment. Afterwards he would stop by the building, where his new office as diplomatic consul was located. The removal of mold, fungus and entanglements from the interior rooms was progressing well, and when everything was finished, in addition to new furniture, he might later allow himself an organic moss bed in one of the private back rooms; but that was a thing of the future that he would only play out when it was certain that he had won the election.

It became apparent that Nom Anor had already become popular before the election campaign began, especially in the core and peripheral areas populated by non-humans. Many people still resented him for having fooled them to such an extent in ooglith masks, that for years they had believed he was a human like them. There were even voices which claimed that Nom Anor was even more human and typical of the species than many humans, and could therefore definitely be considered one of their own - an opinion that was primarily understood as satire in order to address rather unpopular examples of this species with holding them up a mirror. However, among the non-human species that he had imitated with his gablith masquers, many of their members felt a strange connection to Nom Anor through this simulation, which led to the circulation of novels about him that depicted his various adventures either in Duros or Givin masks. These stories were translated into many languages and contributed to the popularity of the independent candidate for the election of a new head of state.

On the Holonet, Twi'lek Senator Cola Quis announced that he was calling on his supporters to vote for Nom Anor after he withdrew his candidacy for the post of head of state. This was followed only days later by the Gotal Ta'laam Ranth when he commended his support for the election of the Yuuzhan Vong to the highest office in the state.

In the end, Vors Senator Fyg Boras favored the current incumbent, Cal Omas, and there were evil tongues who claimed that he was doing this solely to harm the Alderaan, since Boras had already supported Omas in the last election for the head of state - in return for some favors, as Fyor Rodan's revelations impressively demonstrated. Observers publicly asked what the Alderaanian had offered to the Vors for his followers this time. Thus, Boras' recommendation would only benefit Nom Anor, who has gone to great lengths in using his organic Dovin Basals to make Fyg Boras' home planet Vortex habitable again, pleasing his local voter base.

And yet the third remaining candidate, that Commenoran Fyor Rodan, hoped that the voters would choose the candidate who had started this new election in the first place, even if he was still groping in the dark as to who sent him the message with the explosive files in the end, but the senator prudently kept that uncertainty to himself.

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Nom Anor had already picked out the furniture he wanted to fill his new office with. The shipment would arrive there in two standard days, and he spent those days on Coruscant, going to the botanical gardens and to a restaurant whose food he loved. After one such visit to a restaurant at lunchtime, he went swimming. There was a swimming pool built into the roof terrace of an expensive hotel. The entrance fees were correspondingly high and so there were only a few other bathers on site who could admire Nom Anor's tattoos and scars when he walked to the pool or did his length in the cool water.

After a standard hour and a half, he had finished his swimming session and sat down in the hot tub next door for a quarter of an hour to let the hot sparkling water swirl around his sinewy body. As he got up from the octagonal pool, which could hold perhaps eight people, and wanted to leave the swimming area to go back to the changing room, a man who had also been in the large swimming pool earlier stopped him. Nom Anor had seen him before on one of the loungers, where he had been dozing - apparently until now, because Nom Anor couldn't see any water on his body - even his swimming trunks seemed to have already dried completely.

"You are Nom Anor," the man began in a neutral tone of voice, which left the person being addressed uncertain as to whether something positive or criticism would follow. "Where did you actually learn to swim? There wasn't anything like that on the world ships, or was such there?"

Nom Anor looked at the man. He was medium height, a bit chubby and the look in his brown eyes suggested that he was uncomfortable talking to a stranger until curiosity finally got the better of him. At least his tone had become a little friendlier and more interested during the last two sentences. And when this one was a potential voter for him, who could even influence others …

"Yes, yes, there were large pools of water on the world ships," Nom Anor replied. "After all, our warriors also wanted to conquer planets that have large areas of water. Hence, you have to be able to swim if a spaceship or glider is shot down and falls into the sea."

"You only swam on your chest before," the other continued. "Can you swim lying on your back, i.e. crawl?"

"No, I don't like it that way." Of course, he didn't tell the person why that was the case, because as a former secret agent it was uncomfortable for him to swim blindly with his head forward, his gaze directed upwards, so that he could still didn't even notice what was happening right in front of the soles of his feet.

"And?" the other continued, a little excited. "What about dolphin swimming?"

"What is that?"

"You swim face down, like in breaststroke, but you throw both arms forward at the same time, like in…"

Something beeped on the man's right wrist and he immediately raised his arm. "Oh…" he looked at his counterpart apologetically, "my appointment. I have to go." The corners of his mouth suddenly lifted into an appropriate farewell smile. "I was pleased, Nom Anor."

He turned around and walked away quickly, but stopped in front of the door of the passage to the men's changing rooms and turned back to wave at him with his bare arm. "And good luck with the election!"

Nom Anor stood still for a moment so as not to follow his conversation partner into the changing area too closely, then he also slowly strolled towards the door. He showered and lathered himself with green algae soap that he had from home - a specialty that the shapers of the world ship of the domain Anor had made for this home substitute. Then he wrapped a towel around his slim loins and went to the locker where his things were. With the help of the chip, which he had taken with him when he went swimming, safely on a wristband, he opened the door and got dressed again. He called a glider taxi to take him to the skyscraper where he had his apartment. The elevator took him up and he swiped the key card over the sensor. Nothing happened. He tried again - and again. Finally the door opened and he entered, relieved. He would have the card checked later and use the replacement card he kept in the apartment for comparison. He went into the bedroom, got the replacement card and wanted to go out the door to try it out, but he stopped in the open door and hesitated.

What if it wasn't the card, but the lock? What if he couldn't get back into the apartment with this card as soon as he closed the door from outside? Did that conversation in the swimming pool have something to do with that? Was the chubby guy in the swimming pool just buying time while someone else was tampering with his locking systems - without success? Or had the card simply degraded in performance and he was seeing ghosts? He decided that this matter had time until tomorrow. He would call a locksmith and an employee would check the cards from outside, while he would safely open the door from inside if the key cards both failed.

He closed the door anew, went to the living room, sat on the couch and turned on the Holonet news. Cal Omas had agreed to a motion to give the planet Zonama Sekot a Senator, and now the planet was in contention over whether the position should go to a Ferroan or to a Yuuzhan Vong. Some people had suggested that if the planet were alive like this, then Zonama Sekot should sit in the Senate itself, take on the form of either Priest Harrar or of that Vergere that had been featured in the news many times before.

Ultimately, it was decided that there should be two senators for the planet for each term - a Ferroan and a Yuuzhan Vong, who would rotate between the posts of senator and deputy senator annually.

Investigative journalist Fasald Ghem was on Zonama Sekot interviewing some locals.

"High Prefect Drathul, which of the three candidates for the head of state would you give your support to?" asked the woman with the dark, short-cropped hair.

"I wouldn't give them to anyone," replied the current leader of the Yuuzhan Vong on Zonama Sekot. "He would have to do something about it."

Nom Anor swallowed. Drathul's answer sounded like an admission of corruption or a joke. But since Drathul didn't know the customs of the Galactic Alliance that well, Nom Anor ruled out the latter. And as far as he knew Drathul, he had never made a joke.

"He should make sure we don't get bothered by Bothan assassins like the ones that injured a ship on this planet two months ago."

"As I'm sure you know, the commander in charge has been convicted and is now serving ten years in a maximum security prison."

Drathul's right hand clenched into a fist for the onlookers to see. "Yet the All-Bothan Council has not officially rescinded the Ar'kai to the Yuuzhan Vong, which provides such terrorists with a foothold for such actions."

"Well," wriggled the Star reporter, "that's not an issue even for the head of state to decide, but I'm sure the candidates will hear your complaint and use their diplomatic channels for advice to get the Ar'kai against your people lifted."

"Which of the three candidates do you think has the best qualifications and skills to negotiate with the Bothans?" Drathul asked.

Fasald Ghem's dark eyes looked away for a brief moment. One could see onscreen, that for the reporter it was unusual that the tables of questions and answers were turned around in such a way.

"I think Cal Omas will certainly take care of it," she finally replied.

"Then I noticed that there is still a lot of negative reporting about us Yuuzhan Vong", the High Prefect jumped to the next topic. "And that when we are providing so much help with the construction on some planets without asking anything in return. I would appreciate it if the press dealt more sensitively with the vanquished in this war instead of reopening old wounds again and again. And of course the new head of state should do the same."

"Well," Fasald Ghem paused for thought, "as you know, the Galactic Alliance has freedom of the press, and with all due respect, you can't blame people for using an outlet to speak out about the injustices committed during your war have happened, to tell about and therefore also to work through it mentally. That, too, is part of overcoming the war, High Prefect."

"For me, it's about balanced reporting that also puts our positive contributions to the galaxy into perspective," Drathul specified.

Fasald Ghem nodded. "That's only fair."

A young blond woman crowded into the frame, and Nom Anor recognized the biologist named Danni Quee, who had been bogus kidnapped by locals on Zonama Sekot.

"I want to say one more thing to the third candidate, Fyor Rodan!", the young woman exclaimed. "I'm ashamed to come from the same planet as you! The Jedi have done so much good for the galaxy, but all you have in mind is to agitate against the Jedi, and now you've launched that campaign against Cal Omas to get revenge on him for winning the election back then! These are absolutely lowly motives to act politically! You should be ashamed of yourself and resign as a senator instead of running for office and exploiting the scandal for your own benefit!"

"Those were harsh words, and who knows, Senator Rodan might even comment on them." The holocam panned and Fasald Ghem was alone in the picture. "And that's it from Zonama Sekot."

Nom Anor watched the remainder of the show with moderate interest, then turned off the holoconsole and headed upstairs to the higher floor in his penthouse apartment to shower again and go to sleep.

A noise in the middle of the night woke him up and he jumped up in his bed. Through the bedroom door, which was always open for exactly this purpose, he heard soft footsteps on the carpeted floor.

The strange guy in the swimming pool. The barely functioning key card.

Suddenly everything came together to form a very disturbing picture. The tapping was already very close and there was no time left to turn on the light switch. His brain worked feverishly to prepare for the unknown enemy.

Was it vengeful Bothans who blamed him for the death of the former absolutely incompetent head of state Borsk Fey'lya, or rather Yevethans, whose homeland - not enough that the Yuuzhan Vong troops had scorched the planet and in doing so nearly exterminated the whole species, he, Nom Anor, on the top of that had also sold N'zoth off to a former war ally just four weeks ago in order to gain another big advantage by taming and settling that pirate people to secure his political career?

He pulled his yorik coral coufee knife from under the pillow and stripped the sheath from it, leaving it on the bed. He estimated the distance to be only a step away from the source of the tapping noise, and after that step he blindly stabbed at the point where he thought the danger was coming from.

His knife poked into nothing, but his other hand grazed a body that didn't appear particularly large or bulky—no fur, so not a Bothan. With his free hand, he spun the assassin by his arm, then dropped the coufee knife to the ground so he could grab with both hands. With a vigorous movement he pulled the body directly against his. The black hole in his left eye, which inaugurated people would take for a pupil, dilated wide. A swift twitch of his left eye's muscles and the Plaeryn Bol inside unloaded its venomous charge on the attacker.

Done! Never in his live Nom Anor was happier to have got implanted this organic weapon sixteen years ago. During night, while sleeping, he was vulnerable, as he'd seen now. A honed attacker could have perhaps grabbed his coufee to use it against him, but never the Plaeryn Bol!

"No!"

Nom Anor recognized the voice, but he had never heard it that shrill and so desperate. All his relief and proudness built up in the recent moments crumbled into nothingness and gave way to first shock, than deep regret and despair. He froze for a moment, then let go of his victim's body and with a thud it fell on the soft carpet in front of the bed. With one jump he was at the wall and turned on the light.

"You fool!" he snapped at Viqi Shesh. "Why are you secretly sneaking into my apartment instead of stopping by my office?"

"I…" he saw her struggling with the poison in her body, which was twitching and writhing, "…I… wanted to call you, but you…"

He knelt beside her, yanked the pad of his right thumb so that the joint cracked, and a thin cannula shot out from under his black fingernail, ready to transfer the reservoir of antidote he never thought he'd have to use again. Viqi reared up and he pushed her to the ground by her shoulders and lay on top of her to keep her body still as she writhed in spasms of pain, especially her neck, into whose artery he had to let sink the cannula in.

"Quiet, calm."

She exhaled shakily - and the next moment she lay really still. He stuck the cannula into the carotid artery, his index finger pressed against the tip of his thumb - and the antidote shot into Viqi's body. She reared up and he quickly withdrew the cannula so as not to hurt her. Then his hands pinned her shoulders to the ground again, holding her in place from above as her eyelids fluttered and her green eyes rolled wildly back and forth. Three or four more gasps, then her body went limp and her green eyes suddenly glassy and calm.

"Nom Anor…love you."

His body turned to jelly as his mind absorbed those words. When he was Yu'shaa she had never confessed this to him, even though he had certainly felt her affection. At the time, however, it would never have occurred to him to make such a confession to her either - further proof of how well they fit together. But now... in this situation... And he couldn't think of anything to say in response. Maybe later, but what if there was no later?

Her eyes closed and he felt her pulse, which, although slower and much weaker, was still palpable. He had once used that antidote on a Yuuzhan Vong and it took half a day before she had regained consciousness, but he had no experience with how the antidote worked on humans.

Tears filled his god eye and passed by his Plaeryn Bol to reach his cheek, but he wept silently lest to let her know.

This chapter is based on the events of the book series "New Jedi Order", Vol. 14 "Destiny's Way" by Walter Jon Williams (2002) and Vol. 16 "Force Heretic II: Refugee" by Sean Williams and Shane Dix (2003).

Fasald Ghem is a character from vol. 12 „Enemy Lines II: Rebel Stand" by Aaron Allston (2003)