Note: Hello all, as some of you may know i'm gonna be away from the site for a little while and indeed away from the web in many ways. I'm moving - I will still be able to get on from time to time at work, but not as much as I could at home. Hope all of you are well and here's a small look at some of the stuff i've been up to in my spare time, followed by the second half of chapter 7.

UPDATED 16/7/08 - Bye guys! See you when I get back!



And now to the fic.

As I Die -


Slowed, most probably from what ever sedative had been administered to him, Nom Anor's mind fought furiously to attain a plausible answer -and repeatedly turned up blank. The Jedi would soon know something was very wrong, and the Yuuzhan Vong would have been a fool to think otherwise - one should never underestimate the Jedi, he had learned that the hard way.

He would need to be prompt.

"The warriors found me aboard their vessel, some time after it had been launched, they said I was unworthy of a warrior's death, so they tossed me into the maw luur." He groaned, hoping it would add a certain emotional impact to his words.

"What were you doing aboard their vessel?" Tekli asked with some confusion lacing her tone. Irksome jeedai!

"I ran, when word reached my ears that Shimrra was rounding up heretics for a mass sacrifice, I knew the tale of Vua Rapuung and the Jeedai must live on, so I ran and hid among the ships situated on the surface of Yuuzhan'tar."

Tekli made a confused sounding snuffle of a noise-

"But why then remove you from the maw luur after having thrown you in? Or drag the creature from it's mountings, away from the others?"

Nom Anor had already concocted an answer for her, his mind was not yet ready to fail him.

"It was imperfect," He hissed, "Many of the war vessels were seeded on yuuzhan'tar, the worldbrain was sent into chaotic moments of strange thought for several ket after the events that transpired, when the Jeedai, Jacen Solo came into contact with it at the well of the worldbrain."

This time, Tekli remained silent and Nom Anor was now confident he had her attention.

"The worldbrain began destroying or mutating much of what it was shaped to control, several biots and other useful things were imperfect as a result. When I was tossed into the maw luur, it regurgitated me, so the warriors recovered me, leaving me to suffer while they destroyed it."

"And that is when Nas Choka delivered his final orders?" Tekli asked.

"Yes, I heard them with my own-"

Nom Anor paused, acknowledging the prominent pain that still ravaged his body, even now, did he even have ears anymore? Well, he could hear.

"-Before I passed out." He rearranged.

Again the small being before him was silent, thoughtful perhaps? Nom Anor could almost imagine a pensive expression.

"This answers many of the questions I was going to ask you, but we will have need to ask more in the future. For now though, I have a different sort of question for you." She confessed, a little more light hearted than she had sounded previously.

Nom Anor's expression arranged it's self into a look of utter bafflement, but he found the motion cut short when the skin upon his face cracked and began to weep painfully, drawing out a chirp of sympathy from this 'Tekli' nearby. She was already applying the cool, living cloth-strips to the Yuuzhan Vong's slanted brow, tutting softly as she did so.

"We have brought bacta to Zonama Sekot, the ferroans suggested it may help where their own healing techniques have been insufficient, and the world's consciousness has agreed." Tekli explained, nose twitching at the pungent scent of the neathlats she was applying, a shaper had warned her that the scent was something one came accustomed to after time, and the secretions made by the strips of weed-like cloth, would promote healing.

"If you allow us, a bacta tank would heal you much faster than anything I can do now. There is a shaper on world that is willing to help-"

This time, Nom Anor cut her off,

"-No," He knew all about the stunning healing properties of the infidel's bacta - how it could heal some of the worst and deepest of scars. This female would undo all his scrupulous work in one fell swoop!

"No? But your wounds, they will-"

"I earned these scars through much suffering, they are a sign of my survival, my triumph over my oppressors, do not deny me something of great significance." He pressed his words as hard as he could, without sounding forceful and thus shattering the illusion that he was a shamed one, as he professed reverently.

Tekli took a moment to respond, no doubt battling with her very 'infidel' sense of morality, her need to help other living beings, regardless of weather or not she could profit from the situation.
Despicable, truly unworthy - Nom Anor thought to himself - How could his species be expected to turn to these ways? They could not, it did not make sense!

Perhaps Tekli paused for some other reason though? He had heard the faintest sound of shuffling feet, indicating slight recoil, had he spoken too harshly after all? And that meant suspicion may well be cast his way, sooner rather than later.

"If...you are certain.." Tekli finally managed, her voice somewhat incredulous as it was unsure.

"Yes, I do not mean to offend, I am only concerned with marking a new beginning here. My scars are as much a part of me as an amphistaff or coufee is to a warrior." He explained, elaborately apologetic with it.

This was when he heard Tekli mutter something in a language Nom Anor could not have translated without the use of a tizowyrm, yet he was semi familiar with it nevertheless. During his insurmountable time spent observing and stirring up trouble among the infidels, pre invasion, he had become accustomed to hearing many different languages. This one was native to the world of Chadra and this in turn would account for the reasons why she sounded so diminutive and peculiar in voice, she must have been a chadra-fan.

"I think I understand," She added, gently patting down another neathlat, to be certain it adhered correctly to the former prefect's shoulder blade. It pained him, exuberantly as any of his enthusiasm to survive this for the glory to follow. But this time, he gave no outward display of his agony and his breathing had slowed to a calmer, rhythmic dialogue.

"I will leave you to rest now, Yem-zi. I have other duties to attend to here, but if you need anything, there are some ferroan counterparts of mine nearby, they will check on your progress." Tekli reassured him, and Nom Anor found himself inwardly grimacing, he could have used the time alone to better assess his injuries - had he been able to get free that was.

The sounds of the chadra-fan's retreating footsteps faded away into the miasma of the sounds of sekot, leaving him no time to answer. So he lay there, contemplating - all he need do was live through this, and then his plans could be set in motion.

Yes, it was all a case of awareness, he realized, and in the days to come, he would become more aware than he had been in his entire life. Things were looking up, for Nom Anor.

TBC