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with it as you normally would. Break its legs and throw it into the pit.” Shimrra ascended his throne, climbing heavily across pulsating hau polyps. “It can die slowly of starvation and thirst, like an animal. Its body will stay where it lies to serve as an example of what will happen to anyone who dares allow this heresy to propagate. There will be no easy deaths for those who turn their backs on the gods.”
    The guards obeyed Shimrra’s will with grim determination, ignoring the plaintive cries of the condemned. The cries turned to shrieks as all hope fled, then faded to distant wails as the Shamed One was dragged away from the throne room.
    Shimrra waited until the last echo had passed before speaking again.
    “You do well, Ngaaluh. Once again your investigations have exposed the enemy within.”
    The slender priestess bowed deeply. “I am honored by your acknowledgment, Supreme One.”
    “You find success where many others have failed.” Shimrra’s baleful gaze scanned the faces of the priests, shapers, warriors, and intendants who had been assembled for the interrogation. “We must be ever watchful to ensure that the roots of heresy spread no farther than they already have. More than that: we must actively seek out nests of perfidy and find their source.”
    Assent came loudly and without hesitation.
    “Be assured, Great One,” said High Perfect Drathul, senior intendant of Yuuzhan’tar, “that we are making every effort to arrest this terrible tide.”
    “Your will—the will of the gods—is not to be denied,” seconded Warmaster Nas Choka, cutting the air with his ceremonial tsaisi. “We will not rest until the last heretic lies crushed beneath our soles!”
    “Nor would I expect anything less,” the Supreme Overlord said. “In fact, henceforth anything short of enthusiasm for the heresy’s eradication will be regarded as collaboration. And collaboration will be punishable in the same fashion as treachery. Is that understood?”
    The echoes of the Supreme Overlord’s pronouncement rumbled around the throne room, and all who heard it bowed solemnly in agreement.
    “You will continue this work, Ngaaluh,” Shimrra intoned. “I cannot personally oversee every interrogation and execution, yet it is my misfortune to be the one responsible for upholding all that the gods have entrusted to us. I am therefore glad to have someone in whom I can place my trust. Go forth and find me more bodies for the yargh’un pit. When it is full, I will build another, and another, until the curse of this foul heresy is erased from the galaxy once and for all, and the gods favor us again.”
    “Yes, Supreme One.” Ngaaluh’s bow was even deeper than her first.
    The Supreme Overlord shifted in his throne and stared dispassionately over the heads of his minions. “Leave me now. I have much to contemplate.”
    One by one the members of Shimrra’s court filed out of the chamber. The priestess Ngaaluh was among the last to leave. She turned to glance back at Shimrra, giving the villip beacon she carried a final glimpse of the Supreme Overlord, seated atop his throne.
    To Nom Anor, watching the events on a villip choir far away, deep beneath Yuuzhan’tar’s surface, Shimrra looked isolated yet undiminished. The Supreme Overlord’s power and confidence was evident in his straight-backed postureand the indifference with which he dismissed his court. The ruler of the galaxy had weathered many storms in his time and, judging by the glaring determination of his stare, planned to weather many more.
    Nom Anor’s smile, previously broad and triumphant, slipped at the sight. His gnarled hands curled into fists as he paced back and forth across his audience chamber—the sixth he’d occupied in as many weeks. The transmission from Ngaaluh ended as she crossed the security perimeter of Shimrra’s throne room.
    “Another success,” Kunra murmured. The disgraced warrior, Nom Anor’s adviser in all matters nonreligious,