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  1. 2021 RPF Awards Ceremony

    Greetings Guest, the 2021 RPF Awards Ceremony is starting! Be sure to-tune in

Science Fiction Drama Dune: The Between Years

Discussion in 'Role Playing Forum' started by darthbernael , Sep 29, 2021.

  1. darthbernael

    darthbernael EU Community Mod, House was on fire, not my fault star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 15, 2019
    Teaser 1, Game to begin 18 October, 2021

    OOC: The quote below will vary slightly from game canon, which will match book canon. The quote includes elements in the 1984 movie.


    “A beginning is a very delicate time. Know then, that it is the year 10191. The known universe is ruled by the Padishah Emperor Shaddam the Fourth, my father. In this time, the most precious substance in the universe is the spice Melange. The spice extends life. The spice expands consciousness. A product of the Spice, the red Sapho juice, stains the lips of the Mentats but allows them to be human computers, as thinking machines have been outlawed. The spice is vital to space travel. The Spacing Guild and its navigators, who the spice has mutated over 4000 years, use the orange spice gas, which gives them the ability to fold space. That is, travel to any part of the universe without moving. Because the Guild controls all interplanetary travel, they are the highest power in the Universe. The Spice also plays a very secret role in the Bene Gesserit sisterhood, of which I am a part. The sisterhood has been interfering with the marriages, and the children thereof, of the great Houses of the Universe, cleverly intermixing one bloodline with another to form the Kwisatz Haderach, a super being. They plan to control this super being and use his powers for their own selfish purposes. The breeding plan has been carried out in a strict manner for 90 generations. The goal of the super being is in sight. But now, so close to the prize, a Bene Gesserit woman, Jessica, the bound concubine of Duke Leto Atreides, who has been ordered to bear only daughters, has given birth to a son. Oh, yes. I forgot to tell you. The spice exists on only one planet in the entire universe. A desolate, dry planet with vast deserts. Hidden away within the rocks of these deserts are a people known as the Fremen, who have long held a prophecy that a man would come, a messiah, who would lead them to true freedom. The planet is Arrakis, also known as Dune.” - Princess Irulan, Dune, 1984 Film

    Six months later, Kaitain

    [​IMG]

    The High Council had been called, reduced as it was. In years past there had been as many as more than one hundred Heads of House present, in more recent years it had dropped to 35 and even more recently their numbers had dropped to a scant fifteen. In the size of the hall set aside for them, the noise of such a scant number was drowned out by almost oppressive silence. What made the silence more oppressive was that two of their number were not present. The seats adorned with a black shielded crest, a red armorial hawk upon it and the one adorned with the black shielded crest, a blue rampant griffin upon it were empty.

    Voices were raised, accusations flew, there had been news from ‘that’ world. Each had their own needs, their own economies that were tied to the Directorships involved in being a part of that world. And the news of chaos was throwing their worlds into their own smaller chaos’. Battle lines had been drawn, those allied to the Hawk and those allied to the Griffin. The red headed figure on the Throne did little to allay any on either side of the debate.

    And then the doors at the top of the Hall slammed open. A massive figure was seen there, silhouetted by the light behind. The doors shut as the figure descended. It was lost in the darkness between the light of the few seats taken and the end of the Hall. At least until it filled out as the man entered the lighted area.

    [​IMG]

    He took the Griffin seat as whispers ran round the rings of the seats. A cruel smile touched his face as he gazed at the Falcon seat, before he looked to the red haired man.

    An oily voice came from his lips, “My Emperor, Duke Atreides is dead. To maintain stability on Arrakis I have taken control of spice production once more…”

    He glanced around the room, at his allies and his foes, "Who among you will help me undo the damage the Duke has done, tame the planet and mine the spice??"

    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    The game is set in the time between when House Atreides has fallen at Arrakis and before the rise of Paul and the Fremen.
     
    Last edited: Sep 30, 2021
  2. darthbernael

    darthbernael EU Community Mod, House was on fire, not my fault star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 15, 2019
    Teaser Two. This includes the basic description of the game, the rules, and CS information as several of you have requested.



    Kaitain
    Private office of the Palace, a month after the meeting of the Houses Major

    Syrupy, deep yellow, light poured through the tall window behind the desk, throwing the figure sitting in the chair there into shadows. As the figure there shifted, hand spreading paperwork on his desk, a shock of red hair came into the evening light. The robed figure before the desk didn’t move, simply waiting for the man to speak.

    Silence that had dragged out was finally broken, “The CHOAM company is becoming more restless, the figures coming in from Arrakis do not match those predicted.”

    She nodded, waiting.

    “The Spacing Guild, too, is becoming restless. I have had no less than two visits from navigators in the past two weeks.”

    Another nod

    “The only two major groups, besides those snakes of Lords in the Houses, that have not begun to complain yet are those human computers, the Mentats, and your organization.”

    The man in the shadows sat forward, revealing the cold eyes and thin features of the Padishah Emperor Shaddam Corrino IV. “You still cannot get a sister into the sietches of Arrakis or the court of the Baron on Giedi Prime, Mohiam?”

    The robed woman shook her head, in a negative. A low, feminine voice sounded, “No, both groups resist our every effort, Emperor.”

    Shaddam sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Summon the fat Baron.”

    Giedi Prime
    Private office, a month later

    The door of the office opened, an older figure, stooped with loss and self doubt, entered the dark office. Suspensor lights drifted, making the figure in the large seat at the far end of the office mostly hidden in the darkness. Only one large, bejeweled hand was visible as it twirled a massive caramel colored globe.

    There was a loud meaty sound as the door closed behind the man who had entered. At the sound, the globe ceased its spinning, revealing that it was of the most important planet in the galaxy, Arrakis. A deep, oily voice sounded from the shadows, “Compute this, Mentat, what does it mean when I am abruptly summoned to Kaitain, only to find myself in a meeting with the Padishah Emperor and his witch, alone?”

    The second man’s posture shifted, as he thought, computed all the variables. “Your nephew, Rabban, is failing to meet quotas and the Emperor is being pressured by CHOAM.”

    The large figure sat forward, revealing the figure of the Baron Harkonnen. “Correct. I was informed that I must boost spice income to meet or exceed quotas or the Spacing Guild has said that they will reduce transport fees for those damned Ginaz and their allies.”

    His flesh rolled as his head turned to stare at the Mentat, “Summon the Viscount Moritani, from Grumman, Thufir.”

    Planet Ginaz
    Conference Room, same time

    The conference room was packed, the Baron Ginaz at the head of the table, his officers lining the table, his son to one side of him, his Mentat to the other. A cold smile was upon his face.

    A message reel bounced as he tossed it into the middle of the table, followed by a second that he gently placed on the table.

    He turned to the Mentat beside him, nodding. The second man looked over the table, his hand tapping the second reel for a moment, “This...was finally delivered by the Spacing Guild. They had decided, at first, not to deliver it, following Duke Leto’s death. The fact that they have now speaks to why that second reel is so important. It instructs us to do even more than we have, to disrupt Harkonnen efforts on Arrakis directly.”

    Reaching to the second, picking it up, a thin lipped smile came to his face. “This is a report from our agents in the Palace on Kaitain. The Baron Harkonnen was summoned to meet with the Padishah Emperor. Our agents intercepted the data from that meeting. The Harkonnen are so far behind on Spice deliveries that CHOAM is on the verge of demanding heads. And the Spacing Guild will be dropping transport rates.”

    He pulled a small paper from his pocket, “And this is notice that Viscount Moritani has been summoned to Giedi Prime. What does that tell everyone.”

    The predatory smiles that circled the table told him everything he needed to know.

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    About the game:

    The game is set in the second and third year between when the story in the first of the Dune books by Frank Herbert is set. It begins one year after the Harkonnen had retaken Arrakis and will lead up to and possibly beyond the events where Paul Muad’dib and the Fremen begin their crusade to retake the planet. It will take place in two ways, one on Arrrakis itself and another amongst the noble Houses. If you have read the books then you know this period, but for those that need a refresher, it is a period of chaos, the Harkonnen are beginning to squeeze Arrakis for the spice, Melange, while smugglers and other Houses are attempting their own operations out of the sight of the Harkonnen or in conjunction with them. Involved in that is the off world intrigue of the Houses as they clash, intrigue and espionage abounds.

    Available character types:
    House Moritani - Lord/Lady/Mentat of the House/Bene Gesserit of house, etc
    House Ginaz - Lord/Lady/Mentat of the House/Bene Gesserit of house, etc
    Other Houses will be available if there is enough interest
    Spacing Guild agent
    Bene Gesserit
    Mentat
    Fremen
    Smugglers
    Some Canon characters (If there is one you’d like to play, ask, and I’ll tell you if they’re available)

    Rules:
    1. Please PM me your Character Sheets first for approval
    2. No God-modding
    3. Obey the Boards’ rules
    4. The GM’s word is law
    5. If you have to pause your participation or would like to withdraw please notify beforehand so that I can accommodate This rule is a very important one to me, both for you and for me
    6. Have fun

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Character Sheet:

    Name:
    Character Type: i.e. (What House, or Bene Gesserit, Mentat, etc.)
    Gender:
    Age:
    Physical description (picture if applicable):
    Personality:
    Quirks:
    Likes/dislikes:
    Strengths/weaknesses:
    Weapons (if applicable):
    Bio:
     
    Last edited: Oct 6, 2021
  3. darthbernael

    darthbernael EU Community Mod, House was on fire, not my fault star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 15, 2019
    OOC: The third and final teaser before the OP is posted on Monday 18 October. Anyone still wishing to take part I will continue to take CS's throughout. And, for some who have posted CS's already, you may wish to read the teaser thoroughly.



    Planet Tlielax
    Conference Room, Mentat HQ, Two Months later


    The room was evenly lit, screens lined the walls as well as evenly spaced above the table at which a dozen people sat. Several, including the older people at the table, had red stained lips, indicative of Sapho juice addiction. Information scrolled rapidly across the screens and each person in the room was following the lines of information. The leadership of the Mentats had gathered.

    When the screens began to repeat the information, attention shifted to the oldest of the group at the table, “Who does not see what this information says?” he asked calmly.

    A woman with red stained lips spoke, “The Guild seeks to elevate a House beside the Harkonnen.”

    A man further down the table, “They will cause a war upon Arrakis with the transport fees low enough even Houses Minor can send spice miners.”

    The woman across from him, “They already have those associated with Ginaz and Moritani trying to push into the deep desert, when they are not killing each other.”

    The man at the other end of the table, “I see the Emperor’s hand in this, he used the Harkonnen and now seeks to be rid of them.”

    Nods circled the table, “Governor Rabban has reduced another dozen Fremen villages, believing they are his true foe.”

    The first to speak nodded, “We will continue to process this but the data states that war upon Arrakis, not Arrakis alone, is inevitable in the next five years, at the latest.”


    Planet Wallach IX
    A corridor of the Mother House, Same Time


    The black robed figure was surrounded by similarly attired figures as she walked down the hallway. Glancing at the closest, “Is there still no news of Jessica? Has her or her son’s body been found?”

    The sister she had asked shook her head, making the fabric of the robe writhe, “No, Mother Superior, there is no sign of their bodies and no message from her to indicate she yet lives.”

    The Mother Superior sighed, “A shame, According to the Emperor’s Truthsayer he had the potential to be the Totality. Such a waste of a pair of humans.”

    Another sister spoke up, “Is that why Mohiam has requested that you go to Kaitain?”

    The Mother Superior nodded, “Prepare the delegation, have our ‘hidden’ sisters on Kaitain be prepared, I suspect that the conflict is beginning to rise.”


    Planet Tupile
    A dark chamber, barely lit, at the same time


    A hiss sounded, then a voice that seemed to come from a throat not quite human spoke, “Profits are up, even more.”

    A hiss came from another area of the room, a similar voice speaking, “Every House is clamouring to have their smugglers and spice miners delivered to Arrakis”

    A more human voice sounded, after a lower hiss, “Even with costs reduced to the bare minimum, the profits are indeed up.”

    A hiss and a chuckle, “Even the hated witches are trying to send agents to Arrakis, something seems to have stirred them. The Mother Superior is soon to travel to Kaitain.”

    More chuckles ringed the room, anything that annoyed the Bene Gesserit pleased the navigators.


    Arrakis
    Various locations across the surface of the planet, snippets, Same Time


    “Have you heard, we’re supposed to be reinforced by some snot-nosed kid, a scion of the family, who has been living in one of the graben villages by Carthag.” Moritani smuggling guard

    “We’re to be strengthened, the Duke found out that the damned Moritani are doing so so he’s sending a distant relative, prepared for Arrakis, to guide us.” Ginaz Swordmaster to his crew

    -----

    Stilgar glanced around the gathering of sietch leaders then at the young man by his side, Usul’s eyes just beginning to take on the darker blue within blue. He cleared his throat, “The raids are bearing fruit. The Harkonnen pigs are becoming desperate.”

    A sietch leader from the southern polar region looked up at that, “They are flooding us with recruits. Just today, they burned another five villages because one well went dry, after barely producing a deciliter of water. The villagers did save everyone’s water though, before they fully fled.”

    Chuckles rippled the fabric of the tent, “Then the raids are doing what they must. The training you have begun to filter out among the sietches is going to create a body of troops willing to throw away their water to destroy the pigs.”

    Stilgar nodded, “All that is needed now are commanders to lead the raids against the Melange storage facilities, against the mining factories, and those willing to bait the sands to draw the miners in.”

    “It will be done.” came as a chorus of voices.
     
  4. darthbernael

    darthbernael EU Community Mod, House was on fire, not my fault star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 15, 2019
    OOC: Welcome all, the OP goes up....Now!



    [​IMG]

    “The year is 10,192. House Atreides has been eliminated on Arrakis and their mortal enemies House Harkonnen have resumed control. However, rumors are emerging from the sands that spice harvests are being disrupted. The time is ripe for dissent and discord to emerge.”

    One year has passed since the legions of Harkonnen swept onto the face of Arrakis and ambushed the Atreides. To all outside knowledge the entirety of House Atreides was destroyed, save the Mentat, Thufir Hawat, who has replaced the deceased Piter de Vries of House Harkonnen. Only the Harkonnen, House Corrino, and the Sardaukar that were disguised in Harkonnen livery know that it was not just the efforts of the Harkonnen alone that destroyed one of the Great Houses. Rumors abound though. The Court on Kaitain is even more rife with intrigue, with conspiracies, and with rumors.

    [​IMG]

    [​IMG]

    The Padishah Emperor, Shaddam Corinno IV, had called a Grand Audience and everyone, from the Houses Major, Mouses Minor, the Bene Gesserit, the Mentats, the Spacing Guild, the list went on, were present. To one side stood men in Guild livery; hidden in their ranks was at least one of the higher level Guild Navigators. To another side stood the black garbed Bene Gesserit, the folds of white one wore showing that the Reverend Mother Superior was present. Shadows that wandered showed that there were others there that the Bene Gesserit had brought, even here there was little trust of protection.

    Spread across the throne room were men and women, nobles of the Houses, in uniforms or dress that matched that of their House. Those of the Houses Major stood closer to the throne, those of Houses Minor toward the back of the hall. Mentats in service to a House stood near the Lord or Lady of the House, to provide their services the moment it was required.

    An eyebrow raising notice was made that the Baron Harkonnen was not present but that the stooped figure of Thufir Hawat was, alongside the willowy, dangerous looking figure of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. Near the cluster of Harkonnen stood the Viscount Moritani. His gaze was hooded, as was that of his aide, but every so often barbed looks were sent in the direction of the Duke Ginaz and his retinue. The hatred between the two was palpable.

    Upon the dais several figures could be seen. To the left of the throne an older woman, the Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam sat, disquiet at the loss of Jessica, even a year later, hidden in her features. A senior Guild navigator, one who had not yet fully undergone the change, stood to his right. There was no Mentat but other rumors told that the final figure upon the throne had Mentat training, the Emperor.

    [​IMG]

    He lounged upon the throne, surveying the various people gathered there, a small smile touching his lips at how easily identifiable the various factions were. He, above others, knew the validity of the rumors that were circulating. It seemed that his Sardaukar and the pathetic Harkonnen troops had not completely wiped out the nest of Atreides. Or, that was what his spies seemed to indicate.

    Spice harvests were not at the limit of the quota, even with the terror that Baron Harkonnen’s nephew, Rabban, had been inflicting upon the populace. The reports from the Governor’s Office there were that rabble in the desert were sabotaging carryalls and harvesters. But the spies' reports spoke of thought out tactics, of battle language very reminiscent of the Atreides. To date the spies had not been able to infiltrate the sietch’s, as though there was active resistance among the Fremen to outsiders.

    None of the withered, desiccated, stinking natives of the desert planet were present, they refused anything except to be left alone, even his spies and ‘ambassadors’ were turned away. They cared not for any outsider, not even one who sat upon the throne.

    [​IMG]

    Each month the Emperor had the CHOAM Company raise the quota, in part to drive the Harkonnen to their own destruction, but also to drive the competing Houses to believe that they would be the successors to the Harkonnen and reap the spice profit. Which was why the Houses were here now, why they had come, to hear the latest news of Arrakis and plot further to raise their own prestige. That was the devil’s pit that the Landsraad was.

    A deep, sonorous tone sounded. At the noise the heads of each House moved toward the hold short line, their Mentats following. As each reached it, they bowed deeply as the Mentats queued behind them. Shaddam sat more formally on his emerald throne now, a scowl on his face as he looked down on the gathered nobles.

    The Guild representative and Mohiam were whispering in either ear and he waved a hand to have them step back. A deep baritone rolled forth from his mouth, “CHOAM profits are up but spice production has begun to falter. Therefore lesser incursions into the deeper desert by Houses other than that of the Harkonnen has been authorized. The Guild,” he gestured to the representative, “is preparing to lower rates of transport by 50% at the current time as long as spice production returns to quota levels.”

    A harsh glance from Shaddam and a rustle from the Sardaukar lining the walls stilled the murmurs of the crowd that followed his pronouncement. The Emperor had just declared open season on spice mining, if the Houses could find the funds for transport. There was an air of amusement from the Guild representatives that stood, isolated to one side of the chamber, and a low buzz ran through the Bene Gesserit contingent on the other side of the hall.

    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



    [​IMG]

    A fist slammed down on the desk, in the Governor’s Office in the palace at Carthag. A deep, bass voice roared in anger. “My Uncle...the Baron...refuses to increase the levies of troops to pacify this miserable planet.” The officers sitting around the long table beyond the desk rustled, mutters beginning to form.

    “On top of that,” the large figure threw a sheaf of flimsies onto the conference table, “he expects higher quotas. And has allowed the smugglers to begin to increase their own production. So now we have multiple sources interfering.” He glanced at the Moritani, stinking half Fremen, smuggler. “You...you will keep an eye on the smugglers, while you do your own, to increase my personal coffers.” With a wave, he dismissed the officers to their corps, the smuggler to his stinking band of spice harvesters.

    -----

    A transport settled on the tarmac of the landing field. A well dressed man stepped from the ship, a short discussion with the Harkonnen customs official, a small sack passed between the two. The official left and the transport lifted once more. It flew a short 200km further, landing at the still somewhat ruined landing fields of Arrakeen. It entered one of the few undamaged hangars, the hangar doors closing behind it.

    As the cargo door of the transport dropped, men spilled forth. Most were simple men, technically savvy but here to earn as much as possible, harvesting the spice. A few though, discreetly had crossed daggers on their clothing in one spot or another. The last exited the transport, the obvious leader. He was left alone for now, although one shadow did pass his shoulder, it seemed there had been one more aboard the transport.

    As everything was prepared, the leader noticed one thing, before he stepped onto the ornithopter to depart. Crouching, his hand swept the floor, dust and sand brushed aside. A sigh as the motion revealed a red armorial crest of a hawk’s head.

    ------

    The desert beckoned, the Fremen moved, sandworms disappearing back into the sands. Raiding parties had been sent, the war against the hated Harkonnen was beginning to accelerate. Ya hya chouhada!

    TAGS: @greyjedi125, @BobaMatt, @Sinrebirth, @Mitth_Fisto, @TheAdmiral, @pashatemur, @Darth Tormentum, @Shadowsun, @Corellian_Outrider, @HanSolo29
     
    Last edited: Oct 18, 2021
  5. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 9 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    IC: Ike
    Governors Office, Carthag

    He had been absently conscious that he stood out in the room.

    There had been officers seated, and he settled into the corner of the office, leaning, arms crossed. He saw the fist coming down into the table and jumped, notwithstanding, and the roar that followed made him start too.

    And he's not even shouting at me,
    Ike reflected...

    “My Uncle...the Baron...refuses to increase the levies of troops to pacify this miserable planet.”

    Not my problem.


    But he wasn't done.

    “On top of that,”
    more physical dramatics, tossed papers, “he expects higher quotas. And has allowed the smugglers to begin to increase their own production. So now we have multiple sources interfering.”

    Ike started at the use of the word 'smugglers' in such polite company.

    Yeah, we do interfere, he cracked a smile to himself, which he erased as a glance was hurled his way.

    “You...you will keep an eye on the smugglers, while you do your own, to increase my personal coffers.”

    And mine, Ike thought as he nodded, bowing over his hand for emphasis.

    A wave of dismissal and he was free to go. Spinning on his heel, he allowed the officers to precede him, and looked back as he turned to close the double doors behind him with a practised respectful gaze.

    "Idiot," Ike muttered to himself, slotting his hands into his pockets. He looked for his fixer, Tamalrx, the hefty man who acted as his muscle. He was looking at a plant of all things and Ike whistled. The big dolt flinched up, and looked abashed, skulking over.

    Ike began walking. "We good to go?"

    "Waxer says we're fuelled up, asked about his cut again."

    "Of course he did," Ike said absently. I'll pay him a visit in the night methinks. Time to increase the shares and decrease the mouths to feed.

    He held up a flimsi. "All the clearances from the Governor's Office. Remind Gol that we can't skim more than 1% off the top, would ya? I reckon he's a third chute that he keeps his private stash."

    "Will do," Tamalrx said, eyes flittering to the guards around the room. "No play this time?"

    Ike grinned privately, but answered what Tamalrx meant. He was a eunuch; sex didn't factor into his thoughts. "I think we've exhausted all politics can give us, now it's about results."

    "Spice."

    "Yup, always spice."

    Ike looked back one last time before he put aside his thoughts of Carthag and headed to the hangar.

    TAG: @darthbernael
     
  6. BobaMatt

    BobaMatt TFN EU Staff star 7 VIP

    Registered:
    Aug 19, 2002
    IC: Thufir Hawat

    There was a tingling in the old mentat's fingers - no doubt the Harkonnen poison announcing itself and asking for attention. He'd have to ask for sustenance soon, some treat from Feyd-Rautha's satchel, like a dog. The murmurs and shouts reverberating through the Landsraad chamber were, mostly, feigned - certainly no mentat participated in the outrage, but the Emperor's actions had been sufficiently hamfisted that anyone could see this was where things were headed. Perhaps that was part of the point. It was an odd course of action, however, and one worth investigating for more data - House Harkonnen had been involved in an enormous treachery, a breach of the Great Convention that could bring down House Corrino. No doubt others had deduced the sardaukar's role in the destruction of House Atreides, but only the Harkonnen could give hard evidence.

    That would wait.

    Thufir nudged the boy. The Baron sent Feyd, officially to show the boy off as the heir, but unofficially to show his disdain for the court and the Emperor's meddling. Feyd-Rautha was beautiful, but moody, and, in Hawat's estimation, somewhat stupid. Not in terms of potential, perhaps, but his acuity was blunted by sloth and languor. As such, Hawat had prepared the boy for this. It would be interesting to gather data on his responses.

    Feyd Rautha cleared his throat. "Your Imperial Majesty, as Na-Baron of House Harkonnen, I request liberty to speak." The Padishah Emperor nodded in Feyd-Rautha's direction. The boy hesitated, but Hawat nudged him once more. He continued. "House Harkonnen was bestowed the fiefdom of Arrakis after the war of assassins we waged on behalf of the Emperor against the traitorous Atreides. We appreciate that the throne and the Guild have an ever increasing need for spice, but rather than declare our license to mine spice on Arrakis null, House Harkonnen suggests subcontracting mining rights to one of our vassals, thus preserving our right to our fief whilst increasing production. Currently the planet is directly governed by my brother, sitting head of the minor House Rabban. I nominate House Moritani, recently elevated to Major House Status following their stunning defeat of House Ginaz and their Atreides allies, to pick up the gap in production."

    More feigned murmuring. Hawat predicted the Emperor would reject this proposal. Granted, there was always a chance he would accept it and stop there, but the statement fed to the Na-Baron was intended more to highlight Shaddam's unreason.

    Thufir waited, eyes boring holes in the witch next to the Emperor.

    TAG: @darthbernael
     
    Last edited: Oct 18, 2021
  7. greyjedi125

    greyjedi125 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Apr 29, 2002
    IC: Naveed
    Before Dawn



    He’d woken up early, already forgetting whatever dream he had dreamt, yet something remained. A sense of foreboding clung heavily to his awareness. Could it be that he was feeling…troubled?

    Naveed rose to a sitting position with a huff, forcing any remaining drowsiness from his conscious mind, wishing only to be alert now. As he sat on the floor, he suddenly realized he’d been thumbing his water ring.

    Naveed frowned then, Blue-on-blue eyes narrowing as a memory unfurled in his mind. Harkonnen soldiers had attacked another sietch while he was out on patrol. The whole region was on alert, due to the Harkonnen infidels increasing their already frequent aggressions.

    He had acted instinctively then, or had it been impulsively? In the now, he couldn’t quite determine what had been so lucidly clear then. The other Fremen, their sietch was already lost, still they fought on. It was infuriating that he could only help a handful, that he could only cut down a few Harkonnen dogs.

    So much water lost.

    Wasted.

    Why?

    Naveed’s lips tightened into a thin line. He knew why.

    Spice.

    No, not Spice. Greed. Avarice.

    Revolting

    Slowly, Naveed released a breath he had been holding.

    He had not meant to incur water debts from other Fremen, but what was done was done.

    One did not need a Mentat to figure out what was next. It was only a matter of time before the Harkonnen War Machine found his home.

    Shaking his head, Naveed huffed and brought his mind to focus. With precise movements, he checked his stillsuit, making sure everything was in order, then he turned to face the floor and began his rigorous morning exercise routine.

    Let the Harkonnen dogs come. He would get stronger, faster and increase in cunning. They would be made to pay for their desecration. Each and every single one of them.

    This he vowed.


    Tag: @darthbernael
     
  8. Shadowsun

    Shadowsun Force Ghost star 4

    Registered:
    Jun 26, 2017
    IC: Shamir
    Preparing for Raiding

    Shamir could feel soft grinding of the flowing sands. He watched as the dark grains of spice flowed through the air, drifting with the sand. Washing and turning, shifting away anything that marked the sand. Impermanence, that was the nature of Arrakis. That was the nature of life.

    [​IMG]
    He watched grimly over the desert sands as he awaited his fellow Fremen to prepare. The Harkonnen demons having returned, barely gone long enough to notice. Atreides falling so ever swiftly. Swept away like a whisper, so fragile, unable to contend with the harshness of the desert, or reality.

    And so their oppressors had returned, squeezing the Fremen people evermore for the spice, sucking the planet away like a cancerous parasite. Disgusting.

    The Harkonnen house needed to fall, be utterly destroyed. A free Arrakis. It was Shamir's dream, his reality.

    As Naib of his Sietch, he would not allow the Harkonnen's to trample over them as they once had. To invade and destroy his people's world in their unfettered greed.

    Turning back from the outlook post he went back to check on the preparation of the raiding party. They were to destroy a harvester. For the spice was the lifeblood for the Harkonnens, this much was common knowledge. Their armies were mighty but they underestimated the Fremen, they knew not of their skill, of their desert power.

    Shamir's cold blue on blue eyes overlooked the raiders and their final preparation, their weapons ready, their desire unified. Arrakis was their's, and their's alone.

    TAG: @darthbernael
     
    Last edited: Oct 22, 2021
  9. Corellian_Outrider

    Corellian_Outrider Admin FF | Curator: Art&RPF | Oceania RSA | CR NSW star 6 Staff Member Administrator

    Registered:
    Mar 9, 2002
    ~IC~ Garsiv Artaxerxes
    Location: Grand Audience - Kaitain


    Garsiv shifted to refrain from fidgeting, all while keeping his focus on the empty throne. That was hard to do when the khaki and white dress uniform was a bit uncomfortable, especially the collar about the throat. Where was the Emperor?

    “This is a first for us.” A melodic voice whispered from Garsiv’s left.

    “We are guests, Lucina...” he answered under his breath, feeling uncomfortable with speaking while the assembly was gearing up to start. There were still some people milling about... they were probably seeking their spots amongst everyone else. “We should be on our best behaviour.”

    Lucina tongue clicked. “Don’t you wonder why us? The Major and Minor Houses... representatives of the families within. The Spacing Guild. Oh look... Look at who else is here... The Mother Superior of the Bene Gesserit. I’m surprised they brought her all the way out here.” Lucina whispered. “Big fishies amongst the little fishies.”

    Garsiv glanced to her. He always found there was something striking about Lucina’s face. Her eyes seem a fraction larger than that of most others with an intensity that could pierce your very soul. This time, she had this look of morbid curiosity. Earlier she was remarking how the huge supporting columns which reminded her of bars of a cage. Implying that we are pets in a menagerie. Now she was shifting over to a different analogy.

    “This assembly is important to everyone.” Garsiv answered politely. “It is an honour to be selected to represent our families and our House.”

    “If you say so.” Lucina did not sound convinced. “It would have made sense for there to be more of the seniority. Why? If not for the newer generation to be impressed upon and lured into servitude?”

    Garsiv glanced about to see if anyone was reacting to the words Lucina was whispering. It was dangerous to speak such things at a public venue. There was a lady in close proximity to them, someone he wasn’t sure if he had seen before. He noticed a beauty about her, understated and certainly different from Lucina... However, the colours she wore suggest a possible allegiance to the House Moritani and that presented a danger if one of Lucina’s unfiltered remarks were overheard and taken out of context.

    “I don’t think now is the time for such talks...” Garsiv warned Lucina.

    “We are all little fishes.” She added in a soft sing song manner and gave a subtle nod in the direction of the throne. There was movement up there. “Someone is going to get eaten.”

    Garsiv looked and watched a figure had came out and placed themselves on the throne. The Emperor.

    A deep resonating tone commanded silence and attention. Garsiv stood tall, his back straight. He observed the Head of their House move, with their retainer in tow, to join the other Heads of the other Houses.

    He had been told that this phase of the assembly is where the reports are given before decisions are made and made known to the rest of them.

    What could be happening? Garsiv could not help but feel that pit in his stomach, a sense of trepidation about what was being discussed. The Harkonnen and the Moritani were the conspiring type and an ingrained dislike for Ginaz for being part of the Major Houses. The House Atreides had been their sponsor and with them disbanded and members hunted... Garsiv felt painfully aware that they in a sea filled with sharks... and that Lucina’s analogies have gotten into his head.

    Were the Harkonnen and Corrino deciding their fate now? Will the Sardaukar be ordered to turn on them? What he would do to have his sword by his side. He has survived without it before and thankfully Lucina was by his side. They both would have a chance to overpower and disarm one and potentially take a few of them with them before the end-

    “There are a few sweating...” Lucina’s whisper broke his planning. “The Harkonnen... are facing stressful times.”

    Lucina was much better at this than him. Garsiv noted her observation and he too found himself discreetly looking to the others in attendance to try and gauge the mood. It appeared that the other Houses and the Guilds might also be experiencing some anxiety. He supposed that was a good thing. Given the slippery nature of the Harkonnen, he didn’t really like them at all, amongst other reasons. Politics was an arena that have no distinct battle lines, with all the plotting and scheming with words banded about with poison tipped blades, an ally can turn into an enemy without one realising until too late. At least a soldier has the advantage to be able to look their enemy in the eye.

    It was time for the announcement. Garsiv braced himself for what that might be. A myriad of conclusions raced through his head, however, he had not expected it to be focused on Industry. For all Houses to participate in harvesting the commodity of spice.

    That was it? It couldn’t have been that simple... Garsiv furrowed his brow. Or was it simple? No, there was something there... an underlying threat...

    As to looked to some of the faces, he saw a varying range of emotions... greed, ambition, curiosity, despair... this would drive competition. Open season on the spice or each other in the name of spice? A ploy to pit everyone against each other? A means to cull the herd? All for what? Prestige and death? Greed...

    “Oh, what little fishies we are.” He murmured.

    “Very nice.” Lucina sounded pleased. “You are catching on.”

    TAG: @darthbernael @BobaMatt @HanSolo29 @pashatemur @TheAdmiral
     
  10. pashatemur

    pashatemur Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jun 21, 2004
    OCC: Thank you C_O for your masterful help in completing the drawing!
    IC: Sr. of the Bene Gesserit, Na’die, Kanti-Sokanon
    LOCATION: Corrinth City, Kaitan, Safehouse and Great Hall of the Opal Palace


    [​IMG]

    "I was a wild little girl, with a pair of soft moccasins on my feet and the wind in my hair and no less spirited than a bounding deer...I seem to be in a spiritual unrest. I hate this eternal tug of war between being wild and becoming 'civilized.' I am what I am." ¹

    She read her own hand, written with now fading ink in the small hours of a burgeoning day which promised to be one of mad preparation, pace and arranged to appear competently calm and deftly controlled. But if any thought it so, including those giving this impending performance, spread as they were across lightyears and dark mapping, they were arranging their perception to meet things prescribed. Kenti-Sokanon's nimble finger smoothed the soft, fuzzy edge of her journal, the trace of spice and oils turning saffron the once blank white pages. These words laying bare her passage from child to womb-man would one day be dust.

    The soft knock at her door did not cause her to stir, but smiling to herself, she hummed her singsong acknowledgement that she was awake and ready to rise from her makeshift cell. Whichever Sister had rapped upon her door would wonder through the day whence that too sweet scent arose. Likely not to note the faint stain on her knocking knuckles.

    The three other sisters who occupied the safe house with Sr. Na'die, were likewise, unranked and living as day workers in the Imperium's capitol, Corrinth City. It was a huge metropolis filled with statuary, fountains and gardens, monuments, businesses, financial institutions, government, art, institutions of learning and of course, vice, greed, intrigue and many, many secrets.

    Their apartment lay in the morning shadow of the Opal Palace's spectacular, looming edifices. It was a day like any other: eternal blue skies, a soft breeze, the weather warm and the air pregnant with moisture. Water in the fountains, in ponds, lakes, oceans, and occasional showers. The city towers sparkled in the soft morning light, chime kites tethered to them tinkled, their refracting crystals and translucent streamers scattering "rainbows" like ephemeral petals on building, cobbled streets, and the citizenry, distraction for cats to chase and paw.

    Eschewing their black habits, the four wore fine but restrained attire, nothing ostentatious that might attract attention nor place them at too modest a level for attendees at the Imperial court. Kanti-Sokanon, Sister Na'die held the pallu of her midnight blue and gold trimmed saree. The silk snapped and fluttered in the morning breeze, the gold stars dotting the blue ground seemed to wink. She wrapped trailing pallu around her hair to keep the dark strands from blowing free from the gold comb that held the bun at the nape of her neck and pulled the back of her skirt forward to tuck it into the waist of her pleased nivi to form dohti pants as her cohort, like her, set out into the mad rush of early commuters off to their assigned work, some with good intentions, others to hype or sell the next best lie, and having either taken it as the shape of truth or cared only that it increase the household Fisk, contented themselves that they at least were not required to keep up with the news!

    "There now, fellow slogger," said her matins caller as she lurched her cycle forward from the cramped breezeway to the dusty street, " be charitable!" Pulling up behind her sisters, Sokanon wondered if her smirk appeared so obvious? But that was not a matter to take up the little time before arriving at the Palace. Many machinations already in play were certain to intensify during and after this convening of brokers and players. The War of Assassins was only a preset. "Fasten your seat belts, it's going to be a bumpy night!" Quoth some earnest lady from an old piece of celluloid-acetate, strange artifact of the long dead cradle planet, Earth.





    They left their vehicles near the Landsraad Hall of Oratory separating to enter the Palace and on into the monumental chamber that held the Golden Lion Throne, the agate Throne of the Imperium's Padishah Emperor, Shaddam Corrino IV and surmounting the entrance to the Great Hall, was the inscription, "Law is the Ultimate science!"

    The Emperor, his red hair slicked back, stood between the Reverend Mother Mohiam on his left and on his right, a navigator. He surveyed the reverberating hall. For one so clearly burdened, he carried himself like a man half his age-interesting that! His brow was creased from habitual foraging of the future and ruminations on the past -worry, intrigue. This was so for many leaders in this room. None however gave the impression of a bird of prey, crammed into a cage so well as Shaddam.

    Using a code known only to the order, the four sisters signaled to one another and it would be relayed to a Reverend Mother, then, quietly, subtly to Mother Superior Gaius Helen Mohiam as they mingled with the crowd on the periphery. From the edges of the assembled, the small covert contingent could survey the great hall and those in it while appearing to look for a better view of the greater houses. Some of the audience were immaculately arrayed, standing tall, making themselves big and others, while similarly dressed were in details askew and or lacking, either way, indicative of the anxiety pleating the room.

    Count Hasimir Fenring, wasn't on the dais at the Emperor's elbow, though Kanti-Sokanon. Though she thought that she had caught sight of his slight frame shifting deftly through the crowd. He seemed here and there like a flitting dragonfly of Rossak jungles, and she wondered if the half-whispered rumors of his failed seeding were true. If so, Sokanon felt a slight pang for his unfortunate ‘twisting.’ Nor was the Countess Margot at the fore, but surely amongst the Corrino, watching with the others of that Imperial House.

    In conversations half heard or in full, there was much speculation but little spoken. Those who felt they understood some veiled intent checked their tongues and scowled or smiled as little as possible-but even as the Emperor’s booming voice commanded silence, the very air was heavy with the odor of fear and lust.

    Slipping past a young couple from House Ginaz-Sokanon recognized the Heraldic emblem of crossed swords on a rhomboid field of blue and red on the young warrior's white uniform. The slight and subtle woman was graceful-a dancer perhaps. She was also sharp- witted and saucer-like eyes darted here and there as she humorously analyzed the denizens of the Great Hall in whose midst they stood, accurately summing the portends of the edicts being issued. Sister Na'die smiled at their conversation. However, noting others moving in and amongst the people with vigilance, the young man was wise to warn his diminutive companion to be muted in her sarcasm.

    To the suppleness of understanding the Ginaz couple demonstrated, the evoked lines Sokanon commemorated and tucked them away later for her journal:

    ‘Phem’ral black robes, netted veils, the whimsy of the ‘better view,’
    secreted blades and highliners, false markets and rarity true,

    Tattoo’d red, box, beaded needled, wombs twine and weave th’acid thread,
    f’what once was wiser love, flowing blood trails in its stead.

    And the turtles slip and paddle just to build the tallest tower,
    and he who sits atop is deemed the one with greatest power.

    Yet, for all th’alchemists toil, distilling quotas, computing trends,
    what strands may join, do unravel to an unrelenting end.
    -Na’dia, K-S


    So many naked in such a vast hall! Eyes darted left then right, many, if they had one, drew their veils a little further forward and hope to hide their glee or trepidation. Others left, via the nearest exit to seize the moment and capitalize or stop the flow of wasted resources, make new alliances or otherwise stop the room from turning!

    House Harkonnen was making ...an adjustment! Whatever poisoned daggers were half-drawn perhaps were what she was hearing, resheaved. But however happy the Guild were, they too were being played. Sokanon wished she could devine just how or why, but it was a vague sort of feeling, something that a certain classic character would call, “a hunch!”

    Aware of part of the history between the Houses Ginaz, Moritani, Atreides, and Corrino, Sokanon smoothed her brow and fixed a soft smile on her face as the crowd seemed to deflate over the sobering state of affairs. This announcement changed many things, undoing centuries of friendship, for some.....

    Recently deceased, Duke Leto Atreides, had teased the Emperor’s envy, and created a military force necessary to harnessing power that rivaled the Corrino’s Saudaukar and the wilds of Arrakis where he’d found himself moved by a greater power-adapt or perish. Yet, the brilliance of an intelligent and compelling leader only bought the assassin’s hand.

    As persuasive a political actor and commanding of loyalty as the Duke Leto was, seeming to absorb whatever rotten thing was thrown at him, he was doomed. Even his child had been the target of a thwarted assassinion. That disturbed Sokanon. It had been disturbing to her since she had been alerted to attend the court with the other actors here today. Why, other than to be eyes and ears? There was a “why,” that she knew, but that why was somehow bound to this moment.

    She surveyed the vaulted room and wrinkled her nose at the smell of fear. “Fear is the min..blah, blah, blah!”

    Not so long ago, Shaddam had supported Leto in his trial, and still, evidence pointed to Shaddam’s long arm. as to why Leto took “the big sleep.” As to Lady Jessica and her son, Jessica was made of stern stuff, there was no reason for her to have succumbed except in the event of overwhelming force or the planet itself! Or so Sokanon hoped, but she kept that hope to herself.

    She looked at the Emperor, the predator in his cage, studying his face. What do you want? What are you after but power? And the Guild, why are they gloating so? The economic fallout would still affect them, particularly if overmining of spice caused the..very...thing...She scowled, the answer frustrated and disgusted her, but still...

    ¹Zitkála-Šá a first people woman composer and violinist

    TAG: @darthbernael, @Corellian_Outrider, @TheAdmiral, @BobaMatt, @HS29
     
    Last edited: Oct 24, 2021
  11. TheAdmiral

    TheAdmiral Force Ghost star 4

    Registered:
    Mar 28, 2004
    IC: sister Aya-Carolina Mohini
    Location: Grand Audience - Kaitain


    “Survival is the ability to swim in strange water.”
    Bene Gesserit proverb


    This was not her first visit to the Imperium’s capital world of Kaitain, but back then she was just a novice, now she was a full sister of the Bene Gesserit Sisterhood. A sister that had been assigned to one of the smaller houses, the one of Ginaz.

    At first she had been disappointed but knew better not to air her feelings to the Mother Superior. So, she played the part of the obedient little drone until she could find her bearing and look for opportunities.

    And one presented itself. The fall of House Atreides. A great tragedy and all that, but an opportunity nonetheless! House Ginaz had been an ally to Duke Leto, so now, without its benefactor the Minor House could make its move towards ascension.

    If the duke played his cards right. Sister Mohini was a young woman of great ambition. The voices of her ancestors guided her through the currents. It was time to prove her worth...

    But Aya had to calm her Fremen blood, it was still very theoretical. She needed more pieces of the puzzle so that she could see the bigger picture better. Besides, House Ginaz could not take out the Moritanis on its own, not while the blasted Harkonnens were still alive.

    But if the rumours were true the Emperor was slowly and methodically destroying the fat Baron. Good riddance. If the rumours were true about what he had done to Mother Mohiam in the past. Aya gave a mental shudder at the thought.

    So while the Harkonnens were too busy trying to stop the Emperor (as if you could stop a force of nature) House Ginaz could get to work. If the other rumours were true there might be even some Atreides’ soldiers hiding among the local tribes and engaging in guerrilla warfare.

    They would need all the allies that they could get and House Ginaz would need soldiers who are familiar with the local conditions. Besides, if they were working with the Fremen they could provide security for the harvesters. Profits and elevation of the House to Major would soon follow.

    That was for sure.

    Aya wondered whether any of the survivors would know of Jessica’s fate. She did not harbor any warm feelings towards the Sister turned Lady, so she did not shed any tears for her assumed demise.

    After all, as a part-Fremen herself she did not want to waste any water for her...

    Surely the Mother Superior would recognize that Sister Mohini was the preferred candidate to bear the Kwisatz Haderach.

    But first things first, she was going to listen to what the Emperor and his cronies had to say, then adjust accordingly. She was a patient woman…

    TAG: @darthbernael @pashatemur @Corellian_Outrider @HanSolo29 @BobaMatt
     
  12. darthbernael

    darthbernael EU Community Mod, House was on fire, not my fault star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 15, 2019
    What do you despise? By this are you truly known.
    from ‘Manuals of Muad’Dib by the Princess Irulan




    Kaitain, Audience Hall

    Noise filled the hall at the announcement. Shaddam lounged on the Throne, seemingly bored, after the announcement. Truly, the politics of the Houses bored him, unless it affected the spice or House Corrino. Reverend Mother Mohiam was busy studying every one of the Major Houses that would potentially have an iron in the fire of the chaos that Shaddam had just caused. Her eyes met the scorn and hate filled eyes of the Mentat, Thufir Hawat as Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen made his way to the fore.

    Shaddam snorted at the request from the na-Baron but before he responded the Duke Ginaz shouldered his own way forward. He reluctantly nodded, allowing the man to speak. “Emperor, you would not make such a pronouncement if you were not aware that the...Harkonnen and their allies were unable to procure the quantities of the spice that the galaxy and CHOAM require. Given that, I request that the Imperial Edict given demi-fief to House Ginaz as the allies of the recently departed, who had kept the quota.”

    Mohiam’s eyes sparkled as the Duke spoke, humor in them as she gazed at Thufir. The Mentat would realize that, although the Ginaz were no friends of hers, she’d known how he would maneuver and had set her own maneuver in place. Shaddam looked up, brushing his hair back with one hand. His other raised, bringing immediate silence to the hall. “There will be no demi-fief, no favoritism. I tire of the endless bickering, prove your place in the Landsraad and as Houses Major by meeting the quota.” The corner of his mouth ticked. “And those Houses Minor, a spot exists in the Houses Major, meet the quota and you may find yourself among them.”

    The Mother Superior continued to speak softly to her aide as the drama took place by the Throne. Between her words and hand signals, it was apparent she was worried how such a descent of Houses and people upon Arrakis would disrupt the spice flow or what it would mean for how the breeding program would progress. She let her gaze take in the entire hall, turning as she did. She moved her arms and posture as she turned, the signals being sent to the various Sisters, that they stood with their Houses or drifted around the hall, that they would meet at the Chapter house after the audience was released.

    The Ginaz Duke nodded to the Emperor. Slipping back into the crowd, he returned to the small crowd of his family. He glanced at Garsiv and Lucina, “When this audience is done, prepare yourself, you will be headed to Arrakis to rally our troops and spice teams after we all speak in the House offices.” He thought for a moment, then turned to Aya-Carolina, “After the audience, we need to speak, unless you must see the Mother Superior, to decide how we shall respond to this. Something about Arrakis tells me we must make our mark there, need to make it our retreat.”

    Viscount Moritani was incensed that the Emperor had denied them the demi-fief but held his tongue for now, the Harkonnen had their plans and would inform them of what was needed. He turned to his aide, “I do not care what the Padishah Emperor said, when this is done, you will head to Arrakis, make sure our smugglers are reinforced. You will take a legion of House troops to do so.”

    Feyd-Rautha returned to Thufir’s side, “That old bastard…” he muttered. “He doesn’t see that we’re the only thing propping up his reign.” he hissed to the Mentat. “Now what?”

    Mohiam leaned over the arm of the Throne, “Your plan seems to be taking fruit. Perhaps we can manipulate things even more so that both the Moritani and Ginaz are no more. And take the Harkonnen with them.” Shaddam nodded, a small smile on his face. “Agreed.”

    He held up his hand again, the plotting and conversation around the room ceasing. “I have issued my edict. You are dismissed. Send your representatives to the Guild to arrange transport. I expect the spice to flow...or I will begin absorbing Houses into the Corrino.”

    TAGS: @BobaMatt (combo with GM possibly), @pashatemur, @TheAdmiral (Combo with GM if Aya-Carolina doesn’t go with the Ginaz, otherwise separate combos with GM), @Corellian_Outrider (Combo with GM)

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    [​IMG]

    Open desert, North of Carthag, near Observatory Mountain

    When Ike and Tamalrx returned to the hangar, the crew had already lifted the carryall, winching the spice harvesters and ornithopters into the massive vessel. It didn’t take much coaxing or sending the larger, hulking man to loom for the remaining equipment to be secured. Ike had spoken to his spice forecaster and had chosen the most promising spot. There had been sign of spice blows in three separate areas near the isolated outcropping north of the shieldwall so the course had been plotted.

    The trip out to the area had taken several hours, several hours that the one known as Waxer sweated, he’d seen the looks that Ike’s enforcer had been sending him. Which meant the man had told Ike what he’d said and that his days were probably numbered. But that too was the life of a spicer, if the worms didn’t get you your own crew might.

    When the carryall reached the outcropping, the spice harvester let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as they approached. Stepping up to the screen he pointed out, “There, there, and there…!” he gestured at three spots close enough together that the carryall and the ‘thopters could watch over while still far enough apart that if one summoned a worm the others might still have a chance to shut down and wait out the beast, as the carryall saved the one the worm was after.

    The carryall let the ‘thopters out first, to begin their reconnaissance, before shifting, hovering over each spot in turn, winching the harvesters, crews already onboard, onto the patches of spice. Once all three were down, the carryall lifted, taking a hovering position equidistant from all three, spotters searching in all directions, including the outcropping, no telling if those shadows of the desert, the Fremen were near or out for blood.

    -----

    A shadow, unseen by the men on the carryall or the ‘thopters, shifted from the mouth of a small cavern, deeper into it. After it passed a bend of the rock it passed through a curtain of watersippers into the deeper cavern. With the cloak thrown back over it’s shoulders, it took on the shape of a sundark man, deep blue eyes glinting as wrinkles formed at the corners of them.

    A small sip of reclaimed water and he scanned until he found the leader of the band. There had been debate in sietch as to whether it was wise to travel this far from the nearest, safe sietch, to hunt. But the desert readers had seen that the Makers were gathering farther from the shieldwall and this was one of the few spots that offered true cover as they hunted.

    The Fremen slipped through the squatting figures of his battle brothers. Reaching their leader, their naib, he squatted down beside him, “You were right Shamir, they have come. A dozen ‘thopters, one carryall, and three harvesters. All with the pig's ally’s symbol on them.”

    TAGS @Sinrebirth, @Shadowsun (combo)

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Plastic Basin, near the Funeral Plain

    A half dozen rusting and barely functioning carryalls crested the Shieldwall, headed toward the Plastic Basin. Partially peeling paint revealed a blue griffin on the sides of them as they approached the depression near a rocky outcropping. Dozens of ornithopters dropped free, a pair of them crashing to the sands, their wings and jet engines failing to start, before they spread out, beginning to search for wormsign and that of the desert dwellers.

    Overnight the Harkonnen lookouts had seen a sheen of spice begin to coat a large portion of the Basin, finally a break for the House. They desperately needed this spice but, until they could get harvesters on the ground, there was no way to know whether it was a rich spice patch or a trap by those stinking blue eyed bastards that never ceased their terrorism.

    The carryalls dropped close to the sands, spread out across the basin. The beetle-like, older harvesters, almost all the Harkonnen had left, began to descend to the sands. The bulbous wheels touched the sand and the harvesters began their slow trundle to reach the areas that seemed the richest patches. In the near distance pairs of blue within blue eyes, hidden deeply in the caverns of the outcropping, watched, a grim smile below the slitted orbs.

    TAG: @greyjedi125 (Possible combo with GM)

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Randolpho Espanza and Clarence Mudze @Mitth_Fisto and @BobaMatt (Combo rolls over this week)
     
    Last edited: Oct 25, 2021
  13. BobaMatt

    BobaMatt TFN EU Staff star 7 VIP

    Registered:
    Aug 19, 2002
    Combined with @Mitth_Fisto

    IC: Espanza and Mudze




    The light of a damaged glowglobe idly bobbing against the ceiling cast long shadows across the floor as the men disembarked from the transport. The one called Randolpho - the one who'd hired Mudze for the job - had bent low to wipe sand away from a spot on the floor, revealing an Atreides hawk etched there, its lines deepened by the stark light. Surely it would be covered with sand again shortly. Mudze stretched, glad to be out of the cramped ship and breathing a planet's air again. He got closer and crouched beside Espanza, frowning at the hawk. "I guess we're in the right place."

    Standing back and letting the crew do their jobs whilst keeping an eye out was often the most underrated jobs. It was often one of the more boring jobs he could ever be hired for. On the positive side, this job, the specific one they had all been hired for by House Ginaz - well, at least it had a mortality rate. That always kept him on his toes. Threat of injury or death, that will do.

    Hearing the others words at seeing the sand swept aside he gave a silent nod. "Their loss is our safe port. It's about time I take the ornithopter out." the men knew their jobs and this one was going to keep everything going smoothly. "You going to co-pilot or stay?" Far be it from him to tell a veteran how to do things.

    Mudze rubbed his chin. He looked around the hangar. The pirates they'd brought with them were a rugged crew, for sure, and knew what they were doing, but they'd need to plan. Someone needed to prepare a briefing on exactly what the Ginaz wanted from them. "We've only just arrived, my good blade. You looking for something specific out there?"

    With a shrug and a smile back, Randolpho didn't have anything really dramatic to say except, "I hate waiting. Need to get a feel for the area, see what I see. Hate to make plans on imagination."

    Mudze thought about this for a moment and then shrugged. "Do tell us if anything strikes your interest, old friend! Careful to stay aloft. Here there be worms." He clapped Randolpho on the shoulder, used the leverage to spin around to face the men milling about the hangar. He clapped loudly to call attention to himself. "All right, my good sand rats. Let's get to work." Behind him, the wings of an 'thopter began to buzz.

    TAGS: @darthbernael
     
  14. darthbernael

    darthbernael EU Community Mod, House was on fire, not my fault star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 15, 2019
    Ornithoper, In Flight, Arrakeen vicinity

    The ornithopter, a slightly older model, took a few minutes to gain enough altitude to see over the various peaks of the Shieldwall. To the southwest of Arrakeen, as it clawed higher, the sight of various carryalls, with a variety of logos, was visible as they too reached high enough altitude, near Carthag. The craft spread out, most headed to the west or north of his location, so polar south. One was already winging its way in his general direction, slightly north of the Shieldwall, near an outcropping of rock in the desert sands. More were headed toward what Randolpho would presume to be a depression to the west.

    The ‘thopter circled and it was obvious that very few were headed true north, toward the nearer pole or toward what was known as the Great Flat. The plat of recent sandworm activity, as well as recent storm activity was on the display and it would be a wonder why those areas were being avoided. A third data set was added and that brought the reason into focus. Those craft that had been sent to those regions, in recent days, had suffered the most casualties from the Fremen. Of course they’d mostly been of Harkonnen or Moritani livery. Others had either been captured and released or ignored.

    As Randolpho continued the survey, the men gathered before Mudze. “Where’d the boss go? Don’t tell me he’s off joyriding…” a voice from the crowd stated, bringing a wave of muted laughter.

    One of the mechanics gestured at the carryall, “It’s still flyable, whoever we bought it from was just smart enough to keep it running.” Another chuckled, “At least one of the harvesters has some deep gashes; looks like they’d had some narrow scrapes with the worms.”

    One of the spice men shivered, “There’s some blast marks on a couple of the ‘thopters and harvesters, think the Fremen did it?”

    The men grumbled at that. Many had served the Ginaz over the years, even in this harsh terrain and they’d enjoyed the short period of decent relations with the desert dwellers when the Atreides had been in command. But things had reverted to ‘normal’ when the Harkonnen had returned. And the attacks had only begun to mount. Where there were still those that had been allies of the Atreides here in the Arrakeen area the Fremen had not yet begun to really attack but, if the Harkonnen continued they all knew that would change.

    The first mechanic that had spoken lifted his voice over the buzz of the men, “Give me about a half hour and we can lift the harvesters and get going. At least, once the boss gets back, of course.”

    “I hope we don’t head over toward the Shieldwall west of the Hagga Basin. Been out that way before and I swear the ghosts of the Atreides legions haunt the area, coming from their cave graves and stir up the worms.” one of the men nearer Mudze muttered. Several others agreed.

    The men all looked to the man before them, “So, what are your orders, while we wait for the boss to get back?” the closest, and largest of the men, asked.

    TAGS: @Mitth_Fisto, @BobaMatt (depending on how much recon Randolpho wants to do it’ll be a combo with both of you again, otherwise they can be singles)
     
  15. greyjedi125

    greyjedi125 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Apr 29, 2002
    IC: Naveed
    Tooth of Shai-Hulud



    Harkonnen.

    He couldn’t bring himself to even speak the word, lest the very utterance burn his lips and poison his soul. From his vantage point, his blue-in-blue eyes saw them clearly: the invaders, the infidels. How they snaked their way like the robbers and despoilers that they were. Stealing. Desecrating.

    In the air, dozens of ornithopters buzzed around like winged demons. They watched from above, armed and crewed by six enemies each. The spotters would be focused on looking for ‘wormsign’, but could not be discounted off-hand.

    In addition, there were the carryalls, also piloted by six. Their numbers and function was quite specific, critical even for their thieving operation. However, they remained airborne and out of reach.

    The harvester itself, a lumbering beetle-like target, was crewed by two dozen enemies.

    Yes, Naveed knew their numbers. He had studied the enemy, visited many of their wrecks, even infiltrated some of their vehicles during his more daring escapades. His blade was thirsty for revenge, yet he needed to be patient, to bide his time, to wait for the perfect moment. Presently, he was greatly outnumbered by the Harkonnen infidels. But that was a mere 'technicality'.

    This was the desert of Arrakis, a place with its own laws.

    All he had to do to turn the tables was thump upon the sand, once the enemy was fully committed to their thievery and desecration. Though he might posses but a mere tooth, in the presence of Shai-Hulud himself, no amount of enemy numbers would matter, for Shai-Hulud was the law, and he would rule against the Harkonnen.

    For Shai-Hulud was Desert Power.

    All Hail Shai-Hulud.


    Tag: @darthbernael, any Fremen
     
  16. BobaMatt

    BobaMatt TFN EU Staff star 7 VIP

    Registered:
    Aug 19, 2002
    IC: Mudze

    The men were nervous, and that was the right instinct. "Simmer down," Mudze called out. "The blast marks? Maybe Fremen. Maybe other smugglers. Nothing you haven't seen before. Worm damage just means these machines are hardy enough to make it through a worm attack - if they weren't, they wouldn't be damaged they'd be in a worm's belly. If they have bellies. We won't know about getting these harvesters out until Espanza gets back and can tell us about the spice sands. I've heard the tales of the Hagga Basin, but likely our competition has, too, and if we have the stones to mine there, well, that's to our advantage.

    "In the meantime, I need you men looking for sabotage. It may be subtler than desert damage. The caryall can fly, but can it lift? There's blasts and scrapes on the crawlers, but what about damaged intake valves, slashed filters, sluggish centrifuges. Get in there, anything that doesn't feel right, elevate that complaint to me. Fix it, yeah, but let me know. You guys, with the guns?" And here he gestured to a few of his heavies. "Sweep the hangar. Look for anyone snooping - Arrakeen is largely deserted, and the Harkonnen are based in Carthag, but they know we're here. And, to that point, we're not the only ones here! Hm."

    Mudze lifted his pack, desert supplies in tow, and strapped a small sword to his belt. "Shall we do a sweep?"

    Three heavily armed smugglers in tow, Mudze walked to the hangar exit.

    TAG: @Mitth_Fisto, @darthbernael
     
  17. Mitth_Fisto

    Mitth_Fisto Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 29, 2005
    IC: Randolpho Espanza
    Ornithopter in Flight - Exploring the Dunes

    He didn't want to say he was rusty, so let's say the ornithopter, a slightly older model, needed a little more love and attention to lift to a high enough height. Looking over what was simply called the Shieldwall, Randolpho was pleasantly surprised to see that these mountains gave way to the sands - that, and that everybody seemed to be heading north and south. To the southwest of Arrakeen, as it clawed higher, the sight of various carryalls, with a variety of logos, was visible as they too reached high enough altitude, near Carthag. The craft spread out, most headed to the west or north of his location, so polar south. One was already winging its way in his general direction, slightly north of the Shieldwall, near an outcropping of rock in the desert sands. More were headed toward what seemed to be a depression to the west.

    "So, I be a thinking." he muttered to himself as he watched all of this going on. "Two ways to cut this. Either we compete with that. Or we go where they are not." he muttered. He didn't like it. Most likely they were all headed where they were headed because that was where the sure money was. A good thing to note, but a sure thing was not granted by following the herd. After all, a known thing was also a known place for competition and contention.

    The ‘thopter circled and it was obvious that very few were headed true north, toward the nearer pole or toward what was known as the Great Flat. The plat of recent sandworm activity, as well as recent storm activity was on the display and he had to wonder why those areas were being avoided. A third data set was added and that brought the reason into focus. Those craft that had been sent to those regions, in recent days, had suffered the most casualties from the Fremen. Of course they’d mostly been of Harkonnen or Moritani livery. Others had either been captured and released or ignored. That made it tempting, if they were ignored. . .that could be profitable.

    As Randolpho continued the survey, he made a quick flitting zip to check out the east and west of the Shield Wall. Best to check where competition was least and also where they were avoiding. See what he could see and then head on back. Staying in the air for long after that would be pointless, and he was starting to get a little restless to return to see how things actually were shaping up at camp.

    TAG: @BobaMatt , @darthbernael
     
  18. darthbernael

    darthbernael EU Community Mod, House was on fire, not my fault star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 15, 2019
    OOC: Partial update for those that had singles, all combos, as noted in the tag, roll over into this week. So continue all the fun that's going on.

    ’There is no escape - we pay for the violence of our ancestors.’
    - from “The Collected Sayings of Muad’Dib” by the Princess Irulan


    Harkonnen Palace, Kaitain

    The soaring, industrial palace of the Harkonnens stood out among the graceful architecture that adorned much of the capital city. But such industrial ‘ugliness’ allowed them to hide all the various entrances and exits to the compound that spies and assassins could use to go about their missions. The interior was just as stark and functional. Deep inside, glowglobes lit a room, an office, near to that of the Baron’s, when he was in residence.

    A man entered the room, plainclothed but he’d been allowed this deep into the palace, which spoke of his mission and to whom he reported. He stopped before the desk. “Sir, all the reports have been gathered, including from the Governor’s Palace on Arrakis. Rabban has taken poorly to the recent orders from his uncle. Smugglers are already beginning to infest the planet. Here, all the Houses gear to sending their own crews.”

    He looked at the notes once more, “The witches are conspiring but we have been unable to insert an agent into their Chapter House here so whatever they plan my agents will have to wait until they disperse to find out.”

    Another glance at the notes, “The Moritani and the Ginaz both, they have decided to send agents, scions of their Houses, to Arrakis. Accidents do happen but it will have to either occur before they leave or once they arrive.”

    The report done, he stood, in an approximation of attention, “Your orders, Mentat Hawat?”

    TAG: @BobaMatt

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Plastic Basin, near the Funeral Plain

    Unnoticed, unheard, unfelt, over the rumbling of the harvesters, the thumpers were placed. The two harvesters in the middle of the group of them couldn’t have thumpers placed close to them as the others surrounded them. However, with the fact four thumpers were there, they should summon the master of this area and perhaps another, although that could cause damage to one or another of the massive sandworm if they fought over prey.

    The ornithopters began to mass in a pair of directions, calls going out over the working frequency, “Wormsign!” The carryalls began to descend to hover over the harvesters, which would work until the last possible moment. One veered off, another Fremen attack group had sabotaged the fuel cells of the craft and it slid sideways, impacting the dunes, bodies leaping from hatches as the massive craft rolled down the mountain of sand.

    Several of the ‘thopters grounded, releasing troops to defend the harvesters, others began to search the sands for what was suspected, that the hated Fremen were involved. Several remained on station, giving minute by minute updates of the approaching worms. Within minutes, the hissing sound of the passage of worms close to the surface began to even override the sound of the harvesters.

    Three of the harvesters began to be winched back up into the carryalls. The crew of the one that belonged to the downed carryall bailed out of their craft, slogging through the sand, trying to reach another and the hope of retrieval. And then the hissing ceased. Moments later, two of the harvesters and several of the ‘thopters too close to the area, were caught up in the emergence of a pair of worms. Each took, swallowed, a harvester, the ‘thopters destroyed by their massive body’s just hitting the usually nimble craft.

    And then the worms descended into the sand once more, leaving chaos and destruction...and opportunity. Time would tell if Naveed’s band could take advantage of that chaos and do even more damage.

    TAG: @greyjedi125

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Arrakeen, former Atreides hangar

    At Mudze’s commands, the crews scattered, heading in various directions to accomplish what he’d ordered. Several minutes passed as the sounds of mechanical repairs, refueling, rearming, maintenance checks, all filled the air. There was enough noise that the sound of the ‘thopter returning was all but drowned out.

    The armed crew began to spread out, in pairs, searching the entirety of the hangar. Several took to the catwalks, clearing them and assisting those on the ground as they swept through the massive space. Others cleared the offices that perched above the open space, ensuring that they used snoopers to detect any explosive devices that could have been left behind.

    The ‘thopter settled near the entrance, just outside where Mudze had just departed with the three to clear the exterior of the hangar. A pair of the crew saw the craft settle outside and, finishing the tasks they were currently engaged in, headed for it, to give it a once over as Randolpho departed the cabin of it.

    The three men saw the look on their boss’ face, one turning to Mudze, “Chief, we’ll take care of this, looks like the money man needs to have a word with you.” They disappeared around the side of the hangar as Randolpho approached him. Outside of the hangar the sounds of the frenzied activity inside was muted. The two men had a few moments to decide their course of action as the final repairs took place and the troop made ready to set out.

    TAGS: @Mitth_Fisto, @BobaMatt (combo)

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Combo between @Sinrebirth (Ike) and @Shadowsun (Shamir) rolls over this week
    Combo between @pashatemur (Sokanon), @TheAdmiral (Aya-Carolina), and GM rolls over this week
    Combo between @Corellian_Outrider (Garsiv), @TheAdmiral (Aya-Carolina, after the BG combo), and GM rolls over this week
     
  19. pashatemur

    pashatemur Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jun 21, 2004
    OOC: combined with @darthbernael and @TheAdmiral. Thank you both.



    IC: Sr. of the Bene Gesserit, (unknown rank), Na’die, Kanti-Sokanon, Reverend Mother Superior Harishka, Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam, Sr. Aya-Carolina Mohini, Sr. Levi

    LOCATION: Corrinth City, Great Hall of the Opal Palace; Safehouse, Kaitan to a Bene Gesserit Chapterhouse
    [​IMG]

    Opal Palace

    Sokanon watched the watchers while also observing the disbanding clutches and the manner in which they departed, giving a nod to this one or that as a matter of civility. Now, she and her three sisters must quickly make their way to the Kaitan Scola as signed discreetly by Mother Mohiam.

    The Sisters Four grabbed their cycles and sped separately via varied routes to the Scola. Living on the outside in the Safe House, they were all well acquainted with the shortest and fastest means through Corrinth City’s confusing maze of streets. They zigged and dove in and out of the traffic to the abbey. Sokanon carefully weaved around pedestrians and jams, hawkers, and traffic circles, making sure, as did the others, that they were unfollowed and seen as just commuters.

    Kaitan Scola Chapterhouse

    Sr. Na’die arrived first at a large and solid lift gate which sat between two gardens siding two grand houses. The gates looked like the entrance to a private hangar or garage for either house, a wing or wings of which continued across the back. The four sisters arrived separately and entered with vegetables and other goods that a house of grand size might need. Standing for a moment before the garage, a small door opened in the lift gate. Sokanon entered and set her cycle to one side of the vaulted garage where several vehicles were parked on the very clean stone floor. The concealed slots she knew to be in the walls holding the silent and poisonous seekers were well hidden. She could reliably detect a few, but not all, just as she was not able to see the hidden guardians and yet knew they observed her. At the back, the vaulted way extended by some 30 more meters with light shining down via cupolas overhead. Her footsteps echoed as she advanced to a substantial metal door with a ringer which stood at the center of the wall. Sokanon rang the bell, was asked for a sign and her hand with which she complied. She was quietly let into the garden. It would be so for the others.

    Before her, a young sister waited, garbed in the long, dark trailing gown that was the daily wear of the Bene Gesserit. Though it may have seemed so to some, it was not the mark of obsequious adherence, but a matter of erasing a separate and distracted identity. To Sokanon, it was too long, too drapey, too hot, too ...it got in the way!

    The Sister gestured for Sokanon to follow. No words were exchanged. The covered cloister and meditation garth were silent save for nature, a thing at which Sokanon smiled. They strolled maddeningly slowly. It was the sister’s little rebellion, an exercise in controlling others.

    Eventually, they progressed until the sister gestured her into a small cell where neatly folded black habits and veils waited. She must divest herself of the distraction of the outside world and assume not only the requisite focus of a Bene Gesserit, but the necessary anonymity of the veil. Sisters of unknown rank had to be kept from internecine intrigue to be effective. Sokanon sighed, dressed, and soon, stood once again before the silent sister and followed round the broad cloister to the Chapterhouse proper, with its oval colonnade. Now vested in their habits, the four entered in proper reverence.It was only a few moments before the Reverend Mother Superior Harishka entered the space, followed shortly after by the Reverend Mother Mohiam. The former took the seat at the head of the room, as the head of the Sisterhood, Mohiam beside her. At the sight of the four, in their concealing robes, after the other three joined the first arrived, Harishka smiled softly.

    "My unranked, you tread a path many sisters cannot. Which, in many ways, makes you even more valuable to the Sisterhood. Your independence of thought or action brings new insight." She glanced at Mohiam before looking back at the four of them, "A time of turmoil has been felt to come, a crossroads, and we must be the architects of that moment."

    Sokanon had no particular expectation for this audience other than that it be a debriefing on observations made during the Opal Place convention less than an hour before. However, the Mother Superior's preamble signaled there was more to come. The Bene Gesserit's words might be florid, when necessary, but there were never any wasted words.

    Thus, while having given her attention to the Proctor, she waited upon those mots from the sphinx-like Mother Harishka. Sokanon thought, 'Concentré sur l'avenir de l'humanité, rassemblant le pouvoir avec lequel former le présent, pourtant, peut-être que l'objectif est devenu un objectif de pouvoir et non d'amélioration de l'humanité!'

    Again, the enigmatic smile from the Mother Superior. "Arrakis is the focal point, as expected. However, there are other swirls in the chaos of the future. Two of the Houses," she looked thoughtful for a moment as though noticing the sister assigned to House Ginaz was not yet present, "demonstrated that in the Emperor's audience."

    Elle parle! Sokanon's ears lifted. The 'Sphinx’ was now steering in a particular sea of conflict. Sokanon looked ahead, not stirring a muscle so she might capture every nuance.

    The Mother Superior's eyes drifted across the four of them, "Both houses have their own agents on the desert planet. Both are in competition and opposition in every arena. Either could prove crucial to navigating the time of turmoil. "

    Mohiam's eyes seemed to glaze as though she were not directly looking at the sisters. In her mind, the memories of those who went before clamored for attention. They directed her gaze at the four unranked. Her voice began to whisper, "Sand, blue eyes, turmoil hangs over them. Crossed swords, a horse's head, at odds...the sand and turmoil will spread across the galaxy if it is not guided by our hand…"

    ----

    Opal Palace:

    "I will join you very soon, my lord Duke." Aya-Carolina gave a small smile "As you said, I need to confer with the Mother Superior. It should not take long." She bowed her head and glided towards the exit. She had seen the signal and headed towards the Bene Gesserit's Safe House. The Kaitan Scola, Chapterhouse. After all, she had to maintain decorum, so her steps were carefully measured as to be both fast enough and controlled enough as not to appear that she was in a hurry. A very thin balance that only a sister could maintain.

    She wondered what the meeting would be about. Sister Mohini had heard that Misionaria Protectiva had done some work on Arrakis before House Atreides went there, but it seemed like it had not worked, since the boy and Jessica were... well... dead.

    Chapterhouse:

    Aya-Carolina noted a sister standing apart from a group of three others. Those must have been the Sisterhood's agents. She nodded to her and bowed in reverence to Mother Harishka. "I apologize for my tardiness." She looked down.

    "You are a sister but you are assigned to House Ginaz." came the reply. A fractional smile, "I would imagine the Duke had last minute words before you departed. I was discussing the swirls of turmoil the future portends. Ginaz, I will say, for your benefit, stands upon the precipice."

    Kanti-Sokanon, Sister Na’die, stood still. She noted her companion sisters did as well. Aya-Carolina entered late and did not vest. It was startling. As to her tardiness, she had been waylaid by the Duke Ginaz. Sokanon could not claim knowledge of him; she was only aware of him. That apparently was now Sr. Mohini’s purview and as such, she would be heading into the storm! Sokanon glanced from the ‘Sphinx’ to Mohini and back again.

    The Mother Superior returned her attention to the four shrouded ones. “Sister Aya-Carolina will be returning to Ginaz to fulfill her duties there, where the Duke will send her. But the four of you, I would have you choose. There are Houses upon Houses that need a visit from the Sisterhood. And," her eyes seemed sharper for a moment, "we still fail at having sisters penetrate the closed network of the Fremen."

    Shoulders tense, Sokanon fixed an intense gaze on the Reverend Mother Superior Harishka and breathed deeply. Sweet water upon her lips! The Fremen held an important position in this complex web. Sokanon stepped forward, bowed respectfully and raised her gaze as she rose, and nodded, "Bid me, and I will go!" Others had said the same. They departed for the desiccated planet fortified with focus and calling. No word came and they did not return. As well trained as a Bene Gesserit can be, those that went before to Arrakis were water for Fremen or food of worms.

    At Sr. Na'die's quiet assumption, the 3 other unranked turned their heads slightly before checking themselves. Sister Levi, bowing stiffly, said, "As will I." The other two did likewise, glancing at Sokanon. None of them could deny that they had bonded during their time as a cohort. It seemed they spoke as one.

    Mother Superior Harishka smiled softly at the statements. A nod to the four unranked, knowing them as she did, she knew they would fulfill their duties in their own ways but ultimately for the good of the Sisterhood. Her blue eyes turned, locking on Sister Aya-Carolina, although it was Mohiam that spoke, “And you, young Sister Aya-Carolina, do you accept the words of our Mother Superior?”

    Aya maintained the classical Bene Gesserit calm, there was an opportunity at hand. "I do." she said simply "If I may be so bold." Sister Mohini started carefully "But I have Fremen blood in me and as you know they revere us." Aya continued carefully, this was a perilous road she was on. "The duke is very much interested in Arrakis, which is to be expected." she eyed the Mother Superior "As I mentioned the Fremen revere us, but they still believe us to be outsiders and I believe I am in a good position to make contact with them, given that I am of their blood." she explained, though that was a bit redundant.

    "I believe I can be of an assistance to the sisters tasked to finding them and making contact." and also it would allow her to keep one foot in whatever the Sisterhood was planning. They would not exclude her from the grander schemes by placing her with a minor house, albeit one with great potential.

    Sokanon raised an ear. Yes, the sister’s stratagem was “bold!” Though, invoking both the missionaria protectiva and the panoplia propheticus only highlighted the difficulty of reaching and ‘persuading’ the sister’s forebears, the Fremen, to accept the order in preparation for the coming of their Kwitsatz Haderach. Thus far, the “way” had elongated and not contracted. The Bene Gesserit were not the first nor would they be the last to employ the tactic of appropriating and injecting themselves and information into a culture’s myths, values, and superstitions for the purpose of manipulating them. Again, Sr. Na’die wondered whether the order’s purpose had become self-serving rather than for the betterment of humanity. Witness the ‘self-less dedication’ of Sr. Mohini! ‘Qui court deux lièvres à la fois, n’en prends aucun !’

    Harishka smiled softly at the responses from around the room. Mohiam nodded, an equally thin smile upon her face. The Mother Superior addressed Aya-Carolina first, “We are aware of the Duke’s plans, have factored them into our thinking. Which is why you are to accept what his plans are. There are other plans already in place for the Fremen, but your...enthusiasm will be kept in mind.” Her tone brooked no discussion, Aya-Carolina was a Bene Gesserit first and bound to the House Ginaz second.

    Her attention focused on the four cloaked and veiled unranked, directing her voice to them all. Seemingly at random she gestured at two of them, “You and you will attend House Ecaz.” Her hand moved, now gesturing at the sister beside Sokanon, “You will attend House Ordos.” Finally, her attention was on Sokanon, “And you, you will attend House Moritani.” As with Aya-Carolina, it was the orders of a leader to those that needed to carry out her orders.

    Sr. Na’die bowed and stepped forward in acceptance. Eyes lowered, she rose slowly and lifted her gaze to Mother Superior. “As is required for the greater good, I so dedicate myself.” She stepped back and stood, quiet of body. Of mind, she was busy preparing for her departure, because it kept her focused feeling the momentary mental pull of Sr. Levi. They would leave this place after the Reverend Mother and Mother Superior released them and each depart as they were bidden. There would be no farewells.

    Well, it was a worthwhile risk, deep down Aya knew the result, but it never hurt to try. Besides, her idea was not completely shot down, so there would be other opportunities. "I serve the Sisterhood." she bowed her head in deference. There was no point in pressing her luck any further. She was if nothing else, very adaptable. It was important to plant the seed and as the ancient proverb stated, ‘The journey of thousand miles begins with one step.’

    Mother Superior Harishka nodded slightly. “You are all dedicated to the Sisterhood and your dedication will not be forgotten. I must return to Chapterhouse and await your reports.” Her eyes drifted over the four unranked and Sister Aya-Carolina, trying to discern anything of their futures, before she sighed lightly, raising her hand, “You are dismissed to your tasks. May your training serve you well.”

    Sokanon wished all well, but Mother Harishska had expressed that sentiment already. Sr. Levi bowed. Sr. Na'die, Kanti-Sokanon and the other two unranked sisters bowed as well, all quietly filing out and leaving the Kaitan chapterhouse to embark on their separate missions.

    Aya gave a small smile, she was overall satisfied with the meeting, and bowed. Once she was sure she was free to go, she just spun on her heel, the long skirts made the motion look like one of those ancient puppets with clockwork mechanisms. Then she simply started walking, she had to rejoin the duke and move things there as well.

    TAG: @darthbernael
     
    Last edited by a moderator: Nov 5, 2021
  20. Adalia-Durron

    Adalia-Durron WNU and Costume/Props MOD star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Jun 3, 2003
    IC Taina, Gaius Helen Mohaim, Mother Superior Harishka. (thank you to our wonderful game master for the combo.)
    Kaitan Scola Chapterhouse in Corrinth City on Kaitain.



    Mother Superior Harishka kept an enigmatic smile on her face as the unranked sisters left upon the errands, she’d sent them on. Sister Aya-Carolina had been sent to discuss what needed to be discussed with the Duke Ginaz, not that the Mother Superior didn’t know what her mission would be, already. She glanced at Mohiam, “They each, in their own way, contribute to the Sisterhoood’s goals but there is more that needs accomplishing.”

    Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam smiled a tight smile, she too had her own conflicting loyalties, tied as she was to the throne as the Emperor’s Truthsayer but she was loyal to the Sisterhood, to a fault. Her eyes clouded as she thought, then turned, summoning the Sister who waited just outside the door, “Bring her.”

    The two senior Bene Gesserit waited as the Sister went upon her task. It was only a couple minutes before she returned, Sister Taina beside her. She ushered the other woman into the room, bowed, then shut the door behind her, taking up station just outside the door once more.

    Inclining her head in respect, Taina acknowledged her seniors. “You have summoned me; how can I assist?”

    Mohiam's smile remained thin lipped as she nodded in return. Harishka remained impassive in her expression. Her soft but commanding voice spoke, "Taina, you know you come from Zensunni stock, the precursor to the Fremen of today, upon Arrakis. You know because you came to us later in life than many do. What do you know of the current conflict upon the desert world?"

    “I am aware.” Taina had read the reports and familiarized herself with the factions involved.

    A curt nod came from Harishka. "I have just dispatched sisters to take the 'temperature' of the Houses, including Sister Aya-Carolina, bound to House Ginaz. However, there is one major task that must be attempted. I warn you though, every sister that has yet attempted it has not returned."

    Lifting her head, Taina levelled her gaze with Harishka, it seemed her past life may well be the solution to a somewhat ‘sticky’ and potentially very dangerous situation. “I am ready to take on any task given me.”

    "As it should be." Harishka touched her lips with one fingertip then returned her hand to the arm of her seat, "Your heritage may be of much value to your attempt to join the Fremen. You know the language and customs. Refresh your knowledge of the Missioniva Protectiva before you depart. And know that any misstep will result in the distrust by the Fremen and your likely death."

    "I understand, and accept the challenge."

    Mohiam's smile was small, "When I trained you on Chapterhouse, I was impressed with your skill. That was why I chose you for this assignment."

    Harishka nodded at Mohiam, "She was one of your outstanding pupils, if I recall. Good, she will need those skills. Do you have any questions, Sister Taina?"

    A slow nod. "I have but one, am I of the Order when I go, or am I on my own?" It was a simple question, one that gave her different opportunities, depending on the answer received.

    Mohiam glanced at Harishka, then back at her former pupil, "Every overt attempt to breach the 'defenses' of the Fremen has met with failure. They have such an iron hold on Arrakis that finding your way into them, as one not of the Order may be simplest. But, how you do so on that desert planet is up to you. Reports sent to me directly as you are able."

    “I understand Mother Superior. I will leave immediately.” Bowing her head Taina backed up a few steps before turning and leaving the room. She had preparations to make.






    TAG @darthbernael
     
  21. greyjedi125

    greyjedi125 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Apr 29, 2002
    IC: Naveed
    Plastic Basin, near the Funeral Plain



    The eyes of Ibad; they took it all in, the entire spectacle. Naveed absorbed every detail he was able to, counted the enemy numbers, saw them fall before the might of Shai-Hulud.

    As judgement was passed upon the infidels, their harvesters and carryalls and flying vehicles, all receiving their just punishment for their defilement, Naveed and his accompanying ‘Ichwan Bedwine’ seemed to speak almost in unison:

    O’ Shai-Hulud!

    Bless the Maker and his water

    Blessed the coming and going of him

    May his passage cleanse the world

    May he keep the world for his people

    The moment filled them with fervor and awe, it inspired in them great courage and lent them strength and conviction - for their cause was just.

    Watching the infidels suddenly have their fortunes changed from a position of absolute authority to extreme vulnerability was satisfying, yet it was not enough. The infidels would simply come again, for they were a forgetful people. That’s why they had to be taught, yet again and again, that they were not welcomed.

    More importantly, an opportunity had been created. The cacophony and chaos left in the wake of the worms passing was ripe for exploitation.

    In that very moment, a commanding fist was raised.

    “Riflemen, eliminate any enemy who tries to escape! Do not allow them to flee!” Naveed declared to those who rallied around him, his tone grim. Shouts of eager assent followed in response.

    “Fremen!!” He called on the rest who were armed with their knives, and some with guns taken from fallen infidels themselves.

    “Three by three formation! Let’s take their water!!”

    Several shouts went out, but thankfully remained bottled-in by the cave.

    “Bi-la Kaifa!!”

    Naveed's fist surged forward.

    And so, the band of Fremen moved out, pouring out like driven sand from the caves, moving in seemingly erratic patterns, as they pursued the disoriented infidels. In short, they all expected to find resistance upon the battlefield, for that was natural. However, the infidel’s resistance would be for naught in the face of the fighting Fremen, who were determined, down to the last man, to drive their enemies from the desert and the planet itself.

    Indeed, Naveed sped forth using what cover he found to keep himself unseen until the last moment. He pursued two feeling spice workers who had their backs to him. With a surge of speed, the young warrior launched himself on the back of the nearest infidel and plunged his knife deep between the enemy's ribs, even as he dragged him to the ground, twisted the knife, then rolled forward, lunging for the legs of the second, even before he turned.

    He planned to repeat the process and then move to the next target. His focus was singular and unwavering. There would be no spice for their enemies this day, but plenty of water for the Fremen.


    Tag: @darthbernael
     
    Last edited: Nov 6, 2021
  22. BobaMatt

    BobaMatt TFN EU Staff star 7 VIP

    Registered:
    Aug 19, 2002
    IC: Thufir Hawat
    Harkonnen Estate, Corinth City, Kaitain

    Hawat twisted his stained lips and shifted in his chair. "Orders."

    Well!

    He traced a line on the table with his finger while he spoke, observing the fading sunlight still streaming multicolored through the tall windows. "The Bene Gesserit are inscrutable, but you're quite astute in forecasting that they will separate. I don't know they're plans but I do know they won't like not knowing, and will no doubt disperse agents throughout the current milieu. The Ginaz are of course burdened already with a witch of their own - I expect we'll see a visitor soon, as will the Moritani."

    A faint stab of pain in his liver - no doubt the poison once more taking hold. Hawat clenched the vegetable slurry in the mug before him - he knew it contained the antidote, as did all his food. He removed the stopper from his vial of sapho and tipped a few drops into the sludge. He drank deeply - it ran hot and chunky down his throat.

    "When we arrived on Arrakis the locals took a special interest in the Lady Jessica and Paul. Connected somehow to a prophecy. I've heard rumors that the Bene Gesserit manipulate locals on occassions - I would take special care to watch whether any of the witches disappear into the desert in search of the sietches. Their work is seen there."

    He breathed deeply, feeling the sapho awaken his brain. "The Ginaz will be in Arrakeen. As they've been demoted to House Minor I suspect they will not have many resources. It's possible they'll try to salvage equipment, make use of whatever's left of the Atreides presence. Keep a lookout for underworld elements - they may hire smugglers. I have contacts among the smugglers. We'll have to hear what they have to say." A pause. "Given their lack of resources I expect they'll try to mine where no one else is mining. We'll need eyes on that."

    He coughed as he stood up. His mind was sharp but his body was not. "My only other order," he said, straightening his tunic, "is to send Feyd-Rautha home. He's played his part. Don't say it like that, of course - he's done well! - but he's done here."

    Hawat ambled off. If he hurried, perhaps he could still catch Moritani before he left.

    TAG: @darthbernael
     
  23. Corellian_Outrider

    Corellian_Outrider Admin FF | Curator: Art&RPF | Oceania RSA | CR NSW star 6 Staff Member Administrator

    Registered:
    Mar 9, 2002
    ~IC~ Garsiv Artaxerxes
    Location: Grand Audience Hall - Kaitain

    Garsiv caught sight of the Duke of Ginaz, just as Lucina whispered that she too, saw him returning to them.

    What news did he carry?

    They didn’t have long to wait. Garsiv and Lucina exchanged glances as they were instructed to prepare to head to Arrakis to rally their forces. Arrakis!

    It took a moment for that to register with Garsiv before he obediently bowed his head and responded with: “It shall be done.”

    He couldn’t but overhear what the Duke was saying to the Bene Gesserit that was assigned to their House. An audience with the Mother Superior? There was something significant about that.

    Glancing about, Garsiv noticed that the assembly was dwindling down and the other attendees were milling into their smaller groups or starting to file out of the chamber. They excused themselves and made their way back to their lodgings.



    Location: Ginaz Compound - Kaitain
    “Arrakis. Of all infernal places to be stationed. It had to be Arrakis.”

    “You don’t seem happy.” Lucina remarked cooly.

    They were back at their temporary accomodation and Garsiv turned away from the view of the city to face her. He sucked in a breath and grimaced. “Given recent history... would you, Lucina?”

    She tilted leaned her head to her left shoulder as her large, piercing eyes studied him. To the uninitiated, some consider such a gaze to be unsettling.

    “Spice is the commodity that fuels the Imperium.” She answered melodically. “It has become a necessity. The House that secures the most will be elevated in prestige. Some would consider that a great honour to be the one instrumental in securing success for our House.”

    Garsiv paused. He knew what she was saying and also recognised her underlying non committal answer. He also knew that if there wasn’t enough spice, it could cripple the Imperium.

    “I can’t help but feel that something is wrong. What if it is a trap?” He spoke his mind. “What if the Harkonnen or their allies use this as an excuse to turn on us.”

    “Ooh...” Lucina cooed softy as she stepped closer. “It would be illogical for them to repeat the same method twice.”

    He bobbed his head as he considered that. “True, though there are other means to achieve similar results.”

    “Of course there are other means.” She stated matter of factly. “Why else are we being sent to rally our forces?”

    Garsiv lightly chuckled as he crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bunk. “Ah, well... It be nice if we can get a leg up on this before we arrive. We’ll have to know the terrain. What we are working with and against so we can prepare for the worse.”

    “Of course.” She smiled impishly. “I am sure the Duke will be willing to part with such intel if we ask politely.”



    Location: Duke’s Villa - Ginaz Compound - Kaitain

    It was just the two of them in the room, awaiting to be brought to the Duke. Garsiv was relaxed in the chair, scribbling down in his notebook. Lucina sat opposite him, poised and alert, watchful for the Duke’s aide to arrive.

    There was something she whispered in which Garsiv couldn’t quite catch.

    “Hmm?” He paused and looked to her.

    “You’re drawing, aren’t you?” Her question came out as a statement.

    Garsiv nodded.

    The corner of Lucina’s lips twitched. She stood up and walked around and leant over his shoulder.

    “Pretty... though the jaw line should be a bit more narrower there... A heart shape. Are my eyes really that large?”

    Garsiv chuckled as he looked to her and shook his head. “Noted and yes, they really are.”

    A pleased expression graced her face before reverting back to her more stoic look from a moment before.

    “As for your query...” she whispered, indicating to the caption next to to the sketch. “...that is for you to work out.”

    Lucina withdrew from him and returned to her seat. As she sat down, she resumed the exactly same position she had been in before. Her gaze shifted and met his. “Like so?”

    “Ah-“ Garsiv glanced down and then back up and smiled. The perspective , lighting and angle matched. As close as humanly possible. “Like so. You couldn’t get more perfect.”

    “Of course. I know.” She stated softly. Her eyes narrowed a fraction.

    Garsiv paused, unsure whether to correct himself or not. He was about to say something when he caught her wink. Shaking his head, he set about correcting the proportions in the sketch.

    [​IMG]

    [​IMG]


    TAG: @darthbernael
     
  24. darthbernael

    darthbernael EU Community Mod, House was on fire, not my fault star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 15, 2019
    OOC: As noted at the end, all unfinished combos roll over. Busy time of year for all so enjoy and any questions, just ask.

    “What is the difference between violence and justified desperation?”
    Landsraad Court, Ethics Division, The Heir of Caladan​




    Sietch Tabr

    The trip back to the Sietch was a quiet one, the Harkonnen pigs had gotten several lucky shots in. The remaining members had loaded the bodies of both foe and the pair of Fremen that had perished on slabs of harvester, bringing them back to the hidden dwelling, saving their water. There was no celebration when they returned, simply the ceremonies of returning the water to the tribe.

    Naveed was left alone to his thoughts for a short time as his men returned to their quarters, to their wives and children. The sietch was quiet, as quiet as such a place could be. Classes were ongoing, the factories were in production, the windtraps sang as the desert air brought the moisture to them.

    His wanderings brought him by the training hall where the Fremen warriors were learning the weirding way from those that had been first trained by Usul and his mother. As he walked by, Stilgar emerged, sipping from the tube to his catchpocket. The older man glanced at Naveed. “We must talk, the battles we fight now are not enough. Usul has suggested another strategy.”

    TAG: @greyjedi125 (Combo with GM)

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Ginaz Villa, Kaitain

    Duke Ginaz had smiled softly as the Bene Gesserit assigned to his House had disappeared into the throng. She had, indeed, been called away by the head of her Order. Which was of little surprise. He nodded to Garsiv and Lucina, the same small smile remaining on his face. It was good to see Garsiv smiling, even a little. He’d been so sober since reports had come from Arrakis, after the fall of the Atreides.

    Returning to the villa that was almost a requirement for the Houses, when in residence on Kaitain, he left the two younger ones to their devices. Shadowed by his majordomo, he strode through the villa. Reports had come into the comm center and he retrieved them before retiring to his study. Before he shut the door, “Let them relax some, before I speak to them. And wait until Aya-Carolina arrives before you usher them all in.” The majordomo bowed, letting the door shut.

    Sitting at his desk, he leafed through the reports, some of the spice mining outfits they had on Arrakis had already begun to return a small profit. Others had encountered troubles with the Fremen but their troubles were far less than that of other Houses. It seemed that attacks would begin but when the Fremen saw their sigils they would melt back into the sands.

    An hour later, the doors to the waiting area opened and the young Bene Gesserit entered. The majordomo nodded, glancing at Garsiv and Lucina as he returned, summoned by the staff at Aya-Carolina’s return. “Welcome back. The Duke will see you all now.”

    He walked past the three of them, opening the door slightly. A nod and he opened the door, allowing all three of them to enter the office.

    TAGS: @Corellian_Outrider, @TheAdmiral (Combo with GM)

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Enroute to Arrakis

    [​IMG]

    When Taina departed the audience with Mother Superior Harishka one of the Sisters handed her a package, and a ticket for a Heighliner. She’d taken such trips before but it wasn’t often that the Sisters travelled so. And the package, once she returned to her quarters suggested that she go plainclothed. Obviously it would be hard to hide what or who she was on the ship but the ticket was for a private cabin so she’d be out of sight for the majority of the trip.

    Which was good because the remaining part of the package was as much as the Archive would give her to assist her in her task. The package included the notes of the Sisters that had attempted the task before, their reports up to when they would abruptly cut off. All followed basically the same pattern, beginning to make inroads with the Fremen before the natives realized what they were.

    The trip, if one could call it that, was short. The time it took was mostly taken up with the Heighliner picking up everyone that would be travelling to Arrakis or further points before the Navigator folded space and took the craft to the desert planet. Then another wait as others departed before she joined a small transport headed to the now lesser city of Arrakeen.

    There was one last wait as everyone was processed through customs before she was free and into the city. As she made her way out into the dusky city, sand and grit drifting through the air, a woman, dressed in the normal kit of the city dwellers, approached slipping a note into her pocket before vanishing again.

    Finding a quiet spot, she opened the note, One hour, ruins of the Ducal Residence, none tread there now. it said simply before the paper ignited on its own, the fragments disappearing in the wind.

    TAG: @Adalia-Durron (Combo with the GM)

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Combo between @Sinrebirth (Ike) and @Shadowsun (Shamir) rolls over this week

    Combo between @Mitth_Fisto (Randolpho) and @BobaMatt (Mudze) rolls over this week
     
  25. Shadowsun

    Shadowsun Force Ghost star 4

    Registered:
    Jun 26, 2017
    OOC: A combo with @Sinrebirth and @darthbernael

    IC: Shamir and Ike

    The Desert

    Shamir gave a slow nod. This was good, this would be a definite blow to the Harkonnen war machine if it was successful. The spacing of them was to be noted, fear of the sandworm... the fools, they had no clue of its significance. If they could, in their greed, they would try to eradicate the wondrous creatures, such arrogance.

    He gave a gesture for the three teams to move out, one for each harvester. The teams would each have thumper they would need to place by the harvester in order to attract the sandworm, eliminating any resisting that came their way.

    The Sandworms and the Fremen working as one... defending their world.

    Ike watched Waxer carefully, but was trying not to over-do it, because he had Tamalrx for that too, and they didn't just have the threats of their own crew to worry about. The other smugglers were just as cut-throat as the rest - Ike knew, he'd got a wicked scar on his left buttock running out of the bedchamber of the captains favourite.

    A dry chuckle, at that.

    The spice was being gathered, and Ike, who knew the specs of his ship as well as he knew the back of his palm, mentally calculated the time the vac would be running to see if he could work out if Gol was indeed skimming off more than they'd agreed for himself.

    But mostly he looked for the Fremen.

    For their inevitable ambush.

    He trusted Fate to do that.

    He found that believing Fate was a precocious, malevolent child simply meant he was ahead of the curve.

    Shamir's teams moved out, using shadow and the natural flow of the dunes to hide their approaches to the three harvesters. Three members of each team moved separately, preparing their thumpers as others of the teams allowed the merest glances of their presence be seen, further away, as though they'd made a mistake in their approach, distraction techniques.

    But even those were a double blind as the feeling of the thumpers being set reverberated in the sand. Which was when the sound of spring launched rockets racing into the sky echoed across the basin. The distraction teams were beginning their part of this battle, aiming to bring down the 'thopters or carryall. As Ike directed his crews, the sight of one then a second 'thopter dropping from the skies would fill his vision.

    Hissing, Ike brandished his gun, looking for rocket positions nearby, to be aimed at his ship.

    "Tamalrx, get your backside here, we've got Fremen -"

    He thought he spied a shape in the sands, opened fire -

    Shamir overviewed the forward most team, the one furthest from where they had their point of attack. The Fremen not carrying or setting the thumbers would provide covering fire in the form of crossbows and some maula pistols. His blue on blue eyes gleaming through the sandy desert air. With the thumpers set their work was done... anymore and it would be an unnecessary loss of Fremen life. The Worms would do the rest.

    He gave the signal to retreat... shifting back through the way they came as best as they could. It was only a matter of time... the desert would swallow outsiders whole.

    Ike turned and saw him through the sand-cloud.

    Blue eyes gleaming.

    He pointed his weapon and pulled the trigger, which clicked loudly - sand had jammed the mechanism! He shook the pistol aggressively. "Tamalrx, on me!"

    He ran into the fray, drawing a charged-blade -

    Shamir felt the harsh presence of one coming in with a blade, a rather foolish endeavor as the Fremen were not to be trifled with. Using the floating dust as a result of the movement and the harvesters he would pivot to come lunging from a seemingly impossible angle. Slightly behind the other man, Shamir made a lunging motion to stab at the man's side.

    "Go!" he would bellow to his comrades after his attack after finding its mark or missed. They would know the gravity of his words, and the dangers of disobeying them. Any unnecessary deaths Shamir could not bear to live with.

    Ike heard and felt the movement a moment before the blade nicked his side, just above his kidney. By the spice, that hurt.

    He growled, swinging around towards the voice and slashing out at neck height -

    He had no compunctions about killing.

    Where the hell was his heavy?

    Shamir would take a step back and lean out of the way from the impulse, pain-ridden attack from Ike. His head cocked as he viewed the rest of the Fremen began to pour away. The residual thumping from the thumpers resonating in the sand below. It would only be a matter of time until a sandworm appeared. Shamir would see the flash of blue on blue eyes that belonged to his immediate adversary. And this chipped away at his mind, the irritation of a Fremen betraying their people, to work so directly for the Harkonnens it was disgusting. Shamir would tighten the grip on his blade, his blue on blue eyes flashing once more as he barreled into the smaller man. Moving to grapple with Ike fully as Shamir's blade them came round to Ike's jugular. He could not allow such a traitor to exist.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth @darthbernael
     
    Last edited: Nov 10, 2021