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“But you move in secret, without his knowledge. What do you want?”

Again, Nen Yim hesitated. “There is something I must see,” she said. “Something I believe to be of vital importance to the Yuuzhan Vong.”

“How intriguing. Shimrra will not let you see it?”

“I cannot ask him.”

“More intriguing still. What is this thing?”

“It is very far from here,” Nen Yim said. “I need help getting there. I need help finding it.”

“You obfuscate.”

“I am cautious. You tell me you are the enemy of my Lord Shimrra. In that case you are my enemy, ultimately, and I will not betray information into your hands.” She paused.

“Suppose I merely lied to you, to test your loyalty?”

“Then I cannot trust anything you say,” she said.

“In that case, our meeting would seem to be over.” He paused again. “But I warn you, you are not likely to get another chance. You say this thing is of vital importance to our future. How important?”

“It could be our doom.”

“And yet you fear Shimrra will not address it?”

“Yes.”

“You think you know better what is best for the Yuuzhan Vong than our Supreme Overlord?”

Nen Yim drew her shoulders back. “In this case, I do.”

“Very well. My pretense of disloyalty was meant to draw a confession of your own. I now believe you are loyal to the order of things. I swear by the very gods, I am also loyal to Lord Shimrra. May they devour me if I lie.” He paused, and lowered his voice. “But like you, I do not think his judgment is infallible. Tell me of this thing you must see. Clearly you are willing to risk disgrace and death. This is not the time to balk.”

Nen Yim clicked the nails of her master’s hand together. Like her own master, Mezhan Kwaad, she had deadly weapons concealed in it. If she decided the priest could not be trusted, the p’hiili would feed well this night.

“It begins with a commander named Ekh’m Val,” she said, softly.

His eyes widened at the name. “Ah,” he said.

“You have heard of him?”

“Indeed. I begin to understand your caution. Please continue.”

She told him, in brief, what she knew, but she left much out. She made no mention of her heresy, but couched her studies of the ship in orthodox terms. As she spoke, Harrar folded down into a cross-legged position and listened like a child does to the true-speaker in a crèche. When she was done, a moment of silence dragged a long tail.

“Astonishing,” he said, at last.

“You understand the implications, then?”

“Some of them. Others will come clear. And perhaps I understand some you do not.”

“I do not doubt that. The priesthood has its own knowledge, I’m sure.”

Harrar drew his lips back from his teeth. “How kind of you to think so,” he said.

“I meant no offense.”

“Naturally not.” He gestured. “Sit with me.”

She complied, resting on a small polyp.

“You swear to me that all you have told me is true?”

“I swear it, by the gods,” Nen Yim replied.

He nodded, then looked at her seriously. “Your master, Mezhan Kwaad, is said to have claimed there were no gods.”

“She was, for all her virtues, perhaps insane,” Nen Yim pointed out.

“Yes, my concern exactly.”

“You fear for my sanity?”

“I might, save for one thing. Are you aware of the heresy?”

Her blood went cold and heavy. “Heresy?”

“Among the Shamed Ones. The obscene belief that the Jeedai are somehow the saviors of the Shamed.”

“Yes,” Nen Yim replied, hoping her composure hadn’t slipped. “I was, after all, on Yavin Four when that heresy began.”

“You were, weren’t you? You’re a part of the story, in fact, at least in some versions. In a few, you died gloriously. In all, you vanished.”

“I am not current on the folklore of the Shamed Ones, I fear,” Nen Yim said, stiffly.

“No, I doubt that you are. This heresy now has a leader—a Prophet. Little is known of him, but he is gaining in power. Not long ago, he made a prophecy—of a new world, a home for the Shamed Ones, a promise of redemption. A living world.” He placed his hands on his knees and leaned forward. “Does this not sound like your Zonama Sekot?”

“I know nothing of this Prophet or his