The furrowed walls of the oval, organic space shine as if they were resin. The orange blossoms of the phong corals hanging on them spread a dim light in the grotto-like space, refracted by green smoke that rises from the incense burner that the venerable priestess of the war god Yun-Yammka has prepared for this very moment.

"You have news of the renegade?" Shimrra's extremely deep bass descends from the red hau polyp throne to the priestess.

"I apologize that this news has only now reached your august ears, Terrible Lord, but Kol-Yabu, servant of the Eternal Flame in honor of the Goddess of Love Yun-Txiin and the God of Hate Yun-Q'aah, has only now remembered that Villip conversation, which Tsavong Lah…"

"I never want to hear this vile traitor's name spoken again!" Shimrra roars indignantly and the priestess Vaecta flinches.

"Back when he was still serving you, the former Warmaster had had a very personal villip conversation about Hapes with Jaina Solo, the very twin he had vowed to offer as a twin sacrifice alongside the already captured Jacen Solo," the priestess reports. "Apparently the threat to rip out Jaina Solo's heart while she was alive was some kind of secret code."

"And what do you think this code should contain?"

"They met on Coruscant and were spotted kissing!"

"If only this traitor had prepared his battles so meticulously instead of his rendezvous!"

The old priestess looks Shimrra directly into the rainbow-colored eyes. "My life as compensation for this delay, Dreadlord."

"I will forgive you for troubling me with such trivialities, Priestess," the Supreme Overlord says graciously. "And now go and prepare the sacrifice to seek the blessing of the gods for the coming battle."

Vaecta bows and turns to leave, just as Shimrra's bass shakes her insides again. "And send in Nom Anor for me!"

She bows again. "It will happen, Fearsome One!"

A short time later, Nom Anor, the Yuuzhan Vong's master spy, enters Shimrra's private audience room. A smile plays on his thin lips and his green robe looks even greener in the incense haze.

"Nom Anor, what do you have to tell me about the fugitive traitor?" Shimrra begins.

"The traitor was recently spotted on Kashyyyk, where he and Jaina Solo are training the forces of the newly so-called Galactic Alliance and the people we brought with us. The two seem very close, according to my source."

"Perhaps your sources know something that I don't yet?" the Overlord sneers.

"The newly founded High Council seems to be above the already known Senate and the unbeliever Cal Omas also heads this High Council. Even Tsa…"

Nom Anor sees Shimrra's rainbow eyes narrow menacingly and obediently interrupts his speech to rephrase it appropriately. "... the former Warmaster is also a member of this council." Nom Anor's voice takes on a conspiratorial tone. "Also, one of my agents recently saw the Warmaster's son with the Jeedai Tenel Ka."

Shimrra raises an eyebrow. His eye color changes from a fiery red to a sulfurous yellow. "So the whole family. If only his grandfather knew that! But isn't Tenel Ka the Jeedai who refuses to wear a technological abomination as an arm replacement?"

"The Infidel now has a Radank implant in place of her left arm stump like Tsss... er... the traitor."

"I think Priest Harrar will be able to shed more light on this matter," Shimrra growls. "Return with him."

Nom Anor goes to the door and it opens. He waves and Harrar enters the audience room at his side. The priest's black eyes dare not look at the huge overlord, who towers at least two heads taller than even the often two-meter-tall Yuuzhan Vong. Instead, he looks at Nom Anor, who is slightly smaller than himself. Harrar feels that the agent is very tense.

"Priest Harrar, what can you tell me about your last encounter with Khalee Lah?" Shimrra begins.

Harrar considers whether he should tell the Overlord the same story he agreed to with Khalee Lah about Hapes. But it dawns on him that Shimrra is asking that for a reason. High Prefect Yoog Skell once told him that under no circumstances should one lie to the Most High. He remembers that he hasn't seen Yoog Skell in a long time, and he also notices that Nom Anor is now wearing his High Prefect's robe. Something is not right, but he, the priest Harrar, will certainly give the Supreme Overlord no reason to doubt his, Harrar's, integrity!

"Our last encounter took place on Hapes, where we negotiated a standstill agreement from the Hapan people with Queen Mother Ta'a Chume. After the successful negotiations, I returned here to Yuuzhan'tar while the Warmaster apparently entrusted his son with another mission.

"Didn't you tell the then Warmaster that Khalee Lah had died at the Battle of Hapes – at the hands of his own people?"

"I didn't know any better back then," defends Harrar. "Had Tsavong Lah…"

"I don't want to hear that dirty traitor's name!" Shimrra booms. "It is forbidden to even say it in my presence!"

Harrar looks at the Overlord's face, which is so scarred that one can no longer even make out any basic facial features. "Surely the Warmaster at the time didn't think it was particularly worth mentioning to you that the situation regarding Khalee Lah had changed."

"And as it turns out, for good reason," Shimrra says. "And so your fate and that of Nom Anor are tied together from now on. The two of you will work together to hatch a plan to kill Tsav... the traitor! Fail, and you will be met with unparalleled degradation!"

Harrar and Nom Anor bow deeply and leave Shimrra's audience chamber together.

"The High Prefect's green robe suits you well, Nom Anor," Harrar begins the conversation.

Nom Anor's veritable eye smiles a real smile. "Thank you very much my friend."

"How should we do it?" Harrar gets to the actual topic. "An assassination or a battle?"

"Surely you've heard about that ridiculous High Council on Mon Cala in the New Republic," Nom Anor begins to say in a smug tone. "It's actually quite simple: we kill a few council members, and then the rest will get so nervous that they'll make mistakes that we can exploit. Gotal Ta'laam Ranth is a bastard for sale, and if we put him in the position of council chairman instead of Cal Omas, we'll have an easy time dealing with Tsavong Lah too. The former war master is so easily influenced; "You just have to talk about the gods in a dramatic tone and..." Nom Anor snaps his fingers and his sallow face gains color, "the pious Tsavong Lah is immediately there to do whatever the gods supposedly ask of him."

"I assume Cal Omas will be the first to die," Harrar suspects.

"Absolutely!" assures Nom Anor.

"But tell me, what happened to your predecessor in the High Prefect's Office – Yoog Skell?"

Priest Harrar watches as Nom Anor's euphoric aura fades away.

"That was a very mysterious thing," the High Prefect begins, his good eye becoming as large as the Plaeryn Bol implant in his left eye socket. "It happened when that traitor Jacen Solo fled our new capital to finally thwart the twin sacrifice. Jacen Solo wanted to kill the World Brain, which was supposed to transform the former Coruscant into a pleasant world for us. I recognized Jacen's evil intentions and stood in his way!"

Harrar's eyes widen. "I wouldn't have believed you had such courage, Nom Anor."

The High Prefect's face regains color and he dramatically extends an arm. "So Jacen Solo said, 'Stand aside, Nom Anor!'

I, however, did not move from my spot and hurled at the Jeedai: 'No one can get past me! "No one will even scratch one of the slime-covered tentacles of the world brain!"

"Very heroic indeed, High Prefect. But what happened then?"

"Jacen Solo began waving his green lightsaber in front of my eyes, but I refused to be intimidated. 'Jacen Solo,' I said to him, 'What an ungrateful person you are!

Vergere and I looked after you as you lay weak and injured on the ground on the worldship above the planet Myrkr. We took you with us, nurtured you as if we were your parents, as if you were our biological son!'" Nom Anor takes a deep breath. "'I gave you Anakin's lightsaber. I have taught you the gems of wisdom of the True Way! And you have nothing better to do than sneak up on Yuuzhan'tar's World Brain to assassinate it and sabotage the Vong formation of the former Coruscant. Aren't you ashamed at all, Jacen Solo?"

"That was indeed very mean of Jacen Solo," agrees Harrar. "What did he say or do after that?"

Nom Anor's voice becomes angry. "Jacen Solo just laughed and explained to me that he was now an avatar of the god Yun-Yammka and as such no longer owed me any responsibility as a simple executor. I then replied: 'Yun-Harla the Cunning herself is my patron saint, just as she protects all intendants! And so far she has still put Yun-Yammka in her place! And so I stand here and can't help but tell you again: Jacen Solo, leave the world brain alone!"

"That was very steadfast and chivalrous of you, Nom Anor."

"This speech of mine was enough to buy time for our people. So our guards came closer to apprehend the fugitive traitor. This meant that the Jeedai Jacen Solo no longer had time to murder the World Brain. But then came this treacherous bird called Vergere. She used so-called Force to manipulate the stones and plants that are so imbued with that energetic field of the Force in this world."

"Vergere – a Jeedai?" Harrar's voice begins to tremble. "That's absolutely…" he suppresses a glee and chooses a different term than the one on the tip of his tongue, "…terrible! You had no chance from the start."

"That's how it was, my friend." Nom Anor's voice becomes melancholic. "Vergere also fooled and betrayed me, just as she did with all Yuuzhan Vong for fifty years. I was left tied up on the hard ground by her in the Infidel's cables while Vergere and Jacen Solo hurried to the coral ship that a bribed shaper had created in this remote location. But I was only too happy to accept this injustice, knowing that the world brain was safe in its muddy, pondy dwelling."

Harrar's mouth twists into absolute skepticism. "You've probably noticed that you're clinging far too much to this maudlin story about the world brain, haven't you, Nom Anor?"

Nom Anor raises an eyebrow. "What are you implying, Harrar?"

"Well, I actually asked you about Yoog Skell at the beginning."

Harrar seems as if Nom Anor is just pretending to have forgotten the actual question. "Then that terrible itching started again!"

Harrar can understand what the High Prefect is talking about. Immediately after this plague began, which only affects Yuuzhan Vong, the shapers of the Yuuzhan Vong developed an ointment that all Yuuzhan Vong have had to rub themselves with regularly ever since to combat the itching. "And?"

"So I went to Nen Yim and the shaper gave me the ointment. I rubbed it on myself and she also gave me some for Yoog Skell. When I went to hand it over to him, I found my predecessor dead in his room."

"What day and time exactly did you find Skell's body?" asks Harrar.

Nom Anor takes a step back from the priest. "Did the Overlord give you another assignment?"

Harrar doesn't miss this opportunity. "But that stays between us, Nom Anor. It's just for the report I have to write. But no one will read it anyway – especially not now that you have become High Prefect."

The newly appointed High Prefect appears noticeably relieved. "That was exactly at twelve noon on Bloody Day."

"My colleague Vaecta will be holding a sacrificial ceremony in honor of Yun-Yammka the Slayer in ten minutes," Harrar informs the High Prefect. "Would you like to accompany me there?"

Nom Anor's good eye blinks. "Why not?"

The priest and the high prefect in their green robes go to the sacrificial site, at the edge of which a huge number of Yuuzhan Vong have already gathered. In the square itself, about a hundred unbelievers kneel - mostly humans, but also Rodians and Twi'leks - and next to them stand the priests who will perform the ritual.

"All glory to Yun-Yammka, the god of war and Slayer!" Vaecta's old voice echoes across the square. "May these sacrifices bring about our final victory over the infidels!"

The black-clad priestess raises a knife and the priests do the same. Vaecta's knife whizzes downwards and the priests imitate that too.

The Coufee knives first scratch the skin of their victims before the different colored skins are completely removed from the battered bodies. The sacrificial cries of those being skinned fill the square and the Yuuzhan Vong around them sing and pray. Musicians accompany this ceremony with plucked instruments and trained insects hum their bright, ominous melody.

Nom Anor and Harrar look down. Their feet get wet and it starts to smell. The Maw Luur, the organic sewers, have for some unfathomable reason vomited onto the ground and now the entire sacrificial site is flooded.

"Apparently Yun-Yammka doesn't like Vaecta's sermon," Nom Anor likes to joke. "Surely Tsavong Lah would have preferred you there in her place."

"But Tsavong Lah is not here," replies Harrar.

Nom Anor flashes a pin-sharp smile. "That was just missing."

Unrest arises in the crowd. Noise from amphistaffs and thud bugs fills the air. Warriors attack. Others defend themselves, only to be cut down by their comrades.

"How can that be?" wonders Nom Anor.

Harrar scans the crowd. No, these are not Shimrra's people attacking to end the tainted sacrifice. And back there, barely visible yet, but unmistakable by his tall silhouette, is his old friend.

"Tsavong Lah!" Harrar shouts and Nom Anor spins around, visibly frightened.

"Here I am, Mighty Lord," Harrar shouts across the square.

Nom Anor looks panicked, then the High Prefect takes his legs into his hands and runs away.

Harrar just looks behind him briefly, then welcomes Tsavong Lah. "The sacrifice has just begun. But it's spoiled."

"Now I'm doing something I wanted to do a long time ago," says Tsavong Lah, charging towards Vaecta.

"Make room for the rightful leader of this ceremony!" he thunders at the old priestess.

"You are a traitor! I will tell Lord Shimrra..."

Tsavong Lah raises his tsaisi, the smaller and thinner version of an amphistaff. "You won't tell Lord Shimrra anything anymore!"

He stabs and Vaecta looks him proudly in the eyes. Tsavong Lah and Harrar know that Vaecta is forever bound in loyalty to the Overlord, that she would even die for him - and with joy, as she does now.

"Now, my friend, may you complete the sacrifice."

Harrar looks at the black vomit at his feet. It gradually seeps away and soon the black modder has disappeared back into the ground where it came from.

"You see, my friend," Tsavong Lah shouts to Harrar over the din of battle, "even the World Brain couldn't stand the priestess Vaecta, but you have his blessing. Now go ahead," urges Tsavong Lah. "I want to experience this at least once before Jaina comes."

"Jaina?"

Tsavong Lah pauses and Harrar realizes that Jaina is very important to the Warmaster.

"Oh, what the heck?" says Tsavong Lah. "Padmé Amidala also forgave Jaina's grandfather for the massacre of the Tusken Raiders and then they got married on Naboo."

"And how long did this connection last?" complains Harrar. "Just two years. Exactly the time we are here in this galaxy - until this turning point. Do you really want to risk that for a vain ceremony, my friend?"

"Okay," Tsavong Lah concedes. "Vaecta should actually be enough as a warrior sacrifice."

"And hereby the sacrifice is complete!" shouts Harrar to the excited crowd.

"Cease fire – everyone!" Tsavong Lah's baritone booms across the square. "Now it's against Shimrra!"

The crowd cheers and applauds again. Then the entourage starts moving.

Nom Anor runs to Damutek of the Shapers. His armpits are wet with sweat and he's itching again. He would like to scratch himself, but then he would be wasting valuable time. It will only take a few minutes until he reaches his destination. There, in the Damutek of Yim Domain, he will rest, rub green ointment on his itchy parts to soothe the itching... and to tell what happened. And once again Nom Anor thinks that this plague of itching that has struck his people is a bad joke from the World Brain, which definitely heard what he said to Yoog Skell near his pool a week and a half ago.