Science Fiction Drama Dune: The Between Years

Ike and the GM
Moritani Residence, Carthage, Arrakis

“Remove my other bindings, forget this conversation ever happened, and I might let your little witch live.” he stated.

The man was backing away from Ike a couple steps at a time, and brought his back against the seats of the sitting area, Trinnian moaning in pain and trying to stay still with the needle at her neck.

Everything had changed.

“You may be on the do not kill list but she certainly is not and my men are placed to remove her household troops from this house, your shadows too, if needed. Do what I said, Moritani.”

This was a problem.

Or, was it?

Ike paused, for a moment.

"If you kill her, her troops, and the shadows, will your masters not be concerned that I have been rendered less than useless, in the matter of spice?" He held up his hands as if to placate, but shifted to a shrug.

"You would have decapitated me, but merely by removing the body." Not true, he had his scrounged ships, crews from his previous life, and he could still deliver.

"What was your proposal after doing so? To flood my estate with your men, put your kin the frontline of the spice wars?" A smile, slightly. "To expose yourself fully to the vagaries of Court in the face of the Fremen?"

Murad sneered at the questions. The tip of the gom jabbar dimpled the skin of Trinnian’s neck where he held her hand in place.


“Hmmm, you are an interesting one. Your fiance stands here, on the precipice of death and you attempt to bargain.”

He kept Trinnian between him and Ike, his eyes flicking to the ceiling on occasion to ensure that none of the shadows he was sure were observing would attempt any distraction or attack. “What you have here is a mere fraction of what your House has available. I could empty this compound of life and your Viscount would replace them in a day.”

His eyes gleamed, almost maniacally, “And he’d do so without fuss or bother, to avoid the Emperor’s wrath or falling under the intense scrutiny that would occur. Leaving you alone, with shadows that despise you for the death of their fellows, with any here on this planet knowing you let your fiance die rather than aid her. In short, you’d be ostracized by almost all of society.”

“Now…undo the restraints on my legs and I will release her.” he commanded the younger man.

Ike was infuriated by this man.


He rather wanted him dead.

Eying the gom jabbar, and Trinnian too, trying to catch her eye, to see if she could communicate any ideas, he said. "Fine."

Trinnian was attempting to hold as still as she could, knowing the pain the deadly needle at her throat could cause. She, likewise, knew that the officer would barely react or react poorly to her attempting to use the Voice. Seeing Ike's look her mind raced, trying to decide what could be the best way to remove the threat they were now under. Taking a shallow breath, so as not to expand her throat against the gom jabbar, "Your legs must be in pain from the bindings, especially your ankles." her voice soothing, as her eyes never left Ike's hoping he understood.


Ike narrowed his eyes, or, tried not to, obviously. He covered the action with an overinflated sigh. "Alright then."

He took a careful step forward. "I'll undo your feet, just don't kick me."

Reaching for the man's bindings, he placed his head by his navel -

Murad stiffened as Ike bent, his eyes narrowed, sure the man intended some form of trickery. What he didn't expect was for Trinnian to suddenly seem to faint, her head lolling back, away from the gom jabbar. At the same time her weight dropped, pulling her slightly further from the poison needle and forcing him to focus on her limp body. He had no time to see what Ike was doing as, he was sure despite his hatred of the witches if this one died the Imperium would find itself with another House opposed to it.


Ike uppercut him.

Fist.

Jaw.

Crack.


Murad's head snapped back at the impact, the hand with the gom jabbar falling away from Trinnian's shoulder. The crack as the fist hit the officer's jzw sounded more wicked to Trinnian, causing her concern that Ike had broken a bone or knuckle. She slithered out of the officer's grasp, as he slowly collapsed to the floor. Moving behind Ike, she reached out for the hand, to check it, attention partially on Murad, seeing him trying to get to his feet. Leaning by Ike's ear, "How do you think the Viscount will react if you demonstrate that those who have gone against the Emperor's wishes here deliver him those traitors." she whispered, with a pointed look at the groggy officer.


Ike was favouring his hand, wincing hard. He had definitely hurt it.

Murad was trying to get his wits about him.

"I'll make my mind up when he's down."

Ike stepped forward and lashed out a with a kick at the side of the groggy man's head -

Murad's head snapped to the side at the kick, his already unfocused eyes going blank, with a crack. He fell, as bonelessly as the punch had dropped him the first time, to the floor, a trail of blood dribbling from his mouth. His chest rose and fell erratically, showing he was still alive but unconscious.


Trinnian knelt, the sound of another crack filling the room as she ripped the gom jabbar from Murad's finger, breaking the bones of the finger in the process. It disappeared back among the folds of her gown as she rose again. Her eyes roamed around the room, including the ceiling overhead, sure that the shadows had been witnessing everything that had happened.

Turning back to Ike, the smile on her face didn't quite meet her eyes. "With your shadows, we just need to keep his men at bay long enough for the Ezharian forces to arrive." She took his hands, lifting his wounded one to examine it, "I will not lose what I've just found because his people hate everyone."

Ike was flexing his hand, working out the pain of his fist impacting the mans jaw. He was no stranger to the rough and tumble of a street fight, but he had expected to see less it in his elevation.

He regarded her face for the moment, clearly conscious that this was above his pay-grade. He looked up, as if sighing, but he spoke when his head was up when he spoke. "I agree."

TAG: @darthbernael

 

IC Naveed & Taina - a wonderful combo with the GM that was so comfortable to write. Thank you @greyjedi125 & @darthbernael
Edge of the Sietch near the desert, sunset


There was so much to learn, to take in, but Taina was used to learning so she was quiet, behaved like a sponge as more than anything, she wanted to get this right. She’d been bathed, and now in her stilsuit, adorned with and ornate and decorative cape she was now sitting still as rings were braided into her hair. It was explained that these were her betrothed's and she would be the holder of them. They were gold in colour and as they were weaved into her dark hair, she found them quite attractive, but it really didn’t matter if she looked good or not, it was a ritual and she understood the significance of the rings.

The sun was low on the horizon and she knew the time was nearing. Soon the Sayyadina came for her, leading through the women out into what was now the darkened desert, onto the sand. Standing behind her, the Sayyadina watched as the unmarried women of the tribe performed a traditional dance with heady chanting. For the first time in the entire day, she had butterflies, this was it, soon she’d be married. A small part of her was excited, anticipation wasn’t something she was used too but right now she was enjoying the feeling all the while keeping her face passive and serine.

They had allowed him to pace back and forth- and for that he was grateful. What else could he do while he waited? Besides worry.

Reality was so..surreal.

Naveed was about to take on a wife, about to become a husband- and until just a moment ago, he hadn’t realized how totally unprepared he was for this task. What was a husband really supposed to do?

Thoughts of his own father came to mind, but they didn’t reveal much on the secrets of being a husband. Naveed’s father had been just that- a father to him. It was a strange irony, that constantly fighting the Harkonnen pigs had consumed much of their everyday life, for it seemed that’s all they did- day in and day out. Had there been anything else?

Becoming a Fedaykin had been a personal dream for Naveed- one which was achieved and earned through many worthy hardships. Naveed was a very capable warrior, was given a position of leadership due to his fervent passion in serving the sietch. As for becoming a father, well, he was fairly certain he could manage that part- but being a husband? There was no training manual for that, at least none that he was aware of. Simply put, he was good at combat. There wasn’t any combat involved in marriage, was there?

Moments seemed to stretch into unbearable eternity as he paced continually, his mind surging with a myriad thoughts, that is, until the moment finally arrived.

Naveed took a deep centering breath. As a leader, it was his duty to remain calm and centered, even in the most dire situations: this was no different. Therefore, Naveed put aside any worrisome thoughts and embraced the moment, focused on the joy of the union, the benefit to the sietch- the contentment of his wife to be. As a result, a soft smile graced his face and he seemed to walk just a taller in his stillsuit.

A silent nod to Stilgar confirmed that he was ready.

As they walked, Naveed felt lighter, the light of the glow rods seemed wonderfully mystical and otherworldly, the music was ‘transporting’. His gaze, once it fell on Taina, it was as if he were seeing her for the first time. The strength he saw in her as they traversed the desert shone around her like an adorning nimbus of light.

She was simply breathtaking.

Naveed smiled at Taina affectionately as he moved to join her, before offering a respectful nod to the Sayyadina.

“Welcome Naveed, Taina, the sietch has gathered to affirm your vows of marriage, to join the two of you as one. May the Maker bless this union.”

“Blessed be the Maker.”

Something strange happened as he appeared and smiled, something she'd not expected. She felt it in her chest, a swelling she'd never experienced before and it felt nice, no, good. With eyes sparkling Taina allowed a warm smile. There was an aura of calm about him, his smile easing any concerns she might have had, the swelling in her heart warmed her from within, and she wasn't supposed to be this attached, but she was.

Slowly she gave him a single nod, not taking her eyes off his for a moment.

The Sayyadina spoke and she had been told when to speak, "blessed be the Maker."

Stilgar stood to the side, Aratt and Zafim next to him. This was not for the men of the sietch to assist, it was from the Sayyadina and women of the sietch to perform the ceremony but, from what Stilgar saw, it was well in hand.

At the blessing, the dancing women began to spiral in their movements, their Chakobsa chanting staying just low enough that the spoken words of the couple and the Sayydina could be heard. She bestowed a smile on the couple before her, “Traditionally, the ceremony would be held in our native tongue but your bride is not yet fluent in Chakobsa we have modified it.”

Her arms rose, sweeping out to indicate the dancing women, “We have been the leaf in the wind of the storm of humanity. Time and again we have been denied our time to rise. First we were enslaved upon our homeworld of Poritrin. Then, we became the Wanderers. And finally, we came to Arrakis. And yet our time, our justice, has been denied. But Shai-Hulud has heard our pleas and promised we would have our time.”

Her voice was hypnotic, enchanting, as she looked back at the couple again, the blue within blue of her eyes almost glittering in the light of the triple moons and stars overhead. “We are insular but also know the value of adding to the tribe, of finding that which bonds us. We are here, seeking the blessing of the Maker to sanctify this union.”

Those bright blue eyes turned to Naveed, seeming to bore into his soul. “Naveed, Fedaykin, chief Lieutenant to the leader of our sietch, aide to Muad’dib. This woman, the sayyadina in waiting, Taina of the Bene Geserrit, has taken the responsibility of your water load, wishes to vow to stand at your side, to be she who is your left arm. Do you take her so, accept her so, and know she will defend you as strongly as you defend her, for the good of your family and that of the tribe?”

Naveed turned to gaze at Taina, to behold her true self. That night in the desert, they would have both perished, of that he was certain, if it weren’t for her strength and her determination. She, Taina, was as worthy as any Fremen ever was. How brightly she shone now, her countenance seemed to glow and sparkle, like a clear night’s moonlight upon the face of the sand.

He did not hesitate at all, the words just flowed out of him, like water:

“I do accept, Sayyadina. I, Naveed of the Fremen, take Taina of the Bene Geserrit, to be my wife- to strongly defend her, our family and our Tribe. Blessed be the Maker.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her as he poured out his deepest affection for all to see. In his mind, they were both floating, in this most blissful moment, he never knew was possible.

Taina gazed into his eyes, and saw so much more than she'd ever hoped, it would have been easy to just say 'I do' but this was all about ceremony and tradition and what she was feeling, she needed to speak from her heart. She repeated word for word what had been asked of her, "I swear to stand by his side, to fight by his side, to protect both him and any fruit of this union that may occur, as well as the tribe itself, knowing he will always put himself between you and danger, but I also swear on my life I will do the same, for I am for him, and him alone."

With the final words, Taina's heart did a strange erratic beat, a solid several thumps she'd never experienced before. She was lightheaded, a whirlpool of emotions swirling within her, as her eyes sparkled as she meant every word.

The Sayyadina smiled softly, nodding at Naveed’s response. “Blessed be the Maker.” she murmured. Turning her attention, she fixed Taina in her gaze. “Sister Taina…” she began, her words almost betraying that the religious leaders of Fremen were descendants of the Missioniva Protectiva. “You have proven your worth, your strength, through trials most could not survive, to join us, to come to us. Through them, you did so with this man,” she gestured at Naveed. “At your side. You come before us wearing the water counter of Naveed. Do you swear to stand by his side, to fight by his side, to protect both him and any fruit of this union that may occur, as well as the tribe itself, knowing he will always put himself between you and danger?” she asked.

Taina gazed into his eyes, and saw so much more than she'd ever hoped, it would have been easy to just say 'I do' but this was all about ceremony and tradition and what she was feeling, she needed to speak from her heart. She repeated word for word what had been asked of her, "I swear to stand by his side, to fight by his side, to protect both him and any fruit of this union that may occur, as well as the tribe itself, knowing he will always put himself between me and danger, but I also swear on my life I will do the same, for I am for him, and him alone."

With the final words, Taina's heart did a strange erratic beat, a solid several thumps she'd never experienced before. She was lightheaded, a whirlpool of emotions swirling within her, as her eyes sparkled as she meant every word.

The Sayyadina smiled softly once again. She brought her hands together, her tresses waving as she nodded reverently to them both. The sound of the Fremen women singing rose in pitch, hidden beneath was the basso rhythm of a pair of thumpers. She turned, nodding to Aratt, who suddenly started, like he’d missed a cue, before he stepped forward. His hand dipped to a pouch at his waist before coming up, two bands in his palms, rings fashions from the chitin of the sandworms.

Taking them from him, the Sayyadina briefly gestured to where he’d been standing. As he fell back, she handed Taina’s to Naveed and his to her. “Take these tokens of your vows, adorn your spouse with them, to be the emblems of what you share.” She told them both, before a wave of her hand suggested Naveed begin.

What indescribable joy surged in his heart and his entire being. Naveed felt breathless, light of weight, the smile on his face was pure, he could not take his eyes off of Taina. He did chuckle at Aratt's missed cue, but encouragingly so, as she gave the younger Fremen a wink. As directed by the Sayyadina, Naveed took the ring he was to place on his wife's finger. The rings, they were beautiful and simple, a representation of their union- yet much more than that; they represented so much that mere words could not contain all their true meaning, yet their existence made it understood and conveyed all that was implied, just by sight.

"For I am for you and you alone, to honor and protect. Blessed be the Maker."

With the grace of a diligent crafter did Naveed slip his wife's ring into her finger. He did not hurry the motion at all, yet made it linger just enough. This occasion was too momentous- he wished it could last forever. He was happy, intoxicated by joy- and in his heart- he felt it- that he, that they, were truly Blessed by the Maker.
His eyes were sparkling, not something she'd seen before, and something she wanted to see more of. Taina had never felt so strongly for anyone in her life and her heartbeat had become almost painful in her chest as she watched him put the ring slowly onto her finger, her skin tingling at his touch. Not unaware of the ways of men and women, Taina had honestly never felt this way and she wondered vaguely if it was real or the situation.

The Sayyadina held out a second ring to Taina, greyish in colour and with interesting patterns on it. Taking it she reached over and took his hand, holding it gently in hers, the ring poised at the tip of the finger. Lifting her gaze she stared into his eyes, "our paths crossed, destiny led me to you, here I choose to stay, because of you." Without breaking her gaze she slowly slipped the ring onto his finger, "this symbol tells all here and beyond, I am for you, for all time. I will follow you, honour you and for all my days, lay my life down to protect you." Gently dragging both her hands back over his fingers, she let the hint of a smile touch her lips as she added in a whispered tone, "blessed be the Maker."

The sounds of the singing Fremen women neared a crescendo as the rings were exchanged. At the last, whispered, words of Taina the Sayyadina smiled with a miniscule nod to the woman. She lifted her arms and, in a loud tone, “The Maker bless this union and show the tribe the strength of Naveed and Taina, from this day forth.”

When her arms dropped the singing ended abruptly, silence ringing across the desert sands for but a moment. The silence was broken by a rush of wind and a deeply guttural groaning sound as a pair of massive sandworms erupted from the sands, rearing into the air on either side of the wedding party and dancers. The two sandworms arced their bodies over, the massive, tooth lined maws pointed down at the newly married couple, the deep, rich scent of pure spice washing over them from the mouths.

The Sayyadina had hoped for a blessing of this union but this was truly fortuitous. Her arms rose again and in an even louder voice, “Shai Hulud himself blesses this union! None may ever tear it asunder! May all celebrate what these two share!”

This was almost overwhelming for Taina. Not long ago they'd been running and hiding from such creatures, avoiding for fear of death, or was it something worse? She gazed up at the creatures in wonderment at the control they were either showing or was it control. She turned back to Naveed, her eyes sparkling with so much more than what she was witnessing. She stepped forward toward him, taking his hands and giving him the softest smile. Hoping above all hope that he felt as she did, Taina didn't know how or why, or even when, but she knew her feelings for this man were very strong.

The moment between them seemed to stretch. For that, he was grateful, as he did not wish for it to end. His eyes met hers and he fell into the glow of her visage, almost losing himself in her presence, her perfume.

How could he have been so blind. Naveed thought he knew strength, determination, he was certain, oh so certain that he possessed these things, but now, he knew the truth. It was the wife who was the strongest, for she illuminated the way for the husband, nurtured him, built him up, carried him, liberated him. Such selflessness was true strength- a power that was humbling and forever mysterious to men.

Or at least to him.

But he would be forever grateful to know it, to be lifted and inspired by it. Naveed knew in that moment that he would do anything for his wife, would give himself, his life for her time and time again. He would face the enemy with unquenchable fire, that immutable yearning that would return him home.

It was then that his senses burst with a transcendent sensation that knew no utterance.

Not one, but two sandworms burst from the sand!! The spice flowed - and in that moment, Naveed felt both insignificant and immortal, powerless and yet - willing and able to face off against a legion of Harkonnen. This blessing was beyond anything he could have conceived in his own imagination; for in his heart, he knew it - he could not explain it - but he knew, that the Fremen would be Free.

“Bless the Maker, Shai Hulud…” Naveed spoke the words with great reverence, bowing his head as he did so. Within him, his spirit soared to heights unimagined. In his mind, he thought he saw images, but could not readily understand them, nor did he feel the need to.

He had never felt more alive than in this moment, never was he more blessed. He was for his wife and his wife for him- and no agency would tear them asunder. In his joy, Naveed followed his feelings, as he slowly leaned in and lovingly kissed Taina- his wife.

It was unexpected, but fervently wished for when he leaned in and their lips met. Taina had never known such a feeling as her heart began to soar and she abandoned all control. Lifting her arms she reached up and cupped his cheeks to hold him to her, returning the kiss in hopes he'd know, he'd feel as she did.

Suddenly, no one else around them mattered, suddenly, to her there was him and him alone. Her husband, the one she'd fight for, fight with, the one she'd give her own life to defend. Somehow she knew that, somehow she knew this man was not only her destiny but her future.

Time stood still, or at least it felt like it did as the kiss seemed to express a moment and a lifetime all in one. As she gently pulled back only a few centimeters and not releasing him, she gazed into his eyes hoping beyond all hope he'd see the depth of her feeling. "Bless the maker...." She whispered to his lips before kissing him once again.




TAG @greyjedi125 @darthbernael

 

“What do you despise? By this are you truly known.” Dune - Frank Herbert
​

Sietch Tabr, the following morning

The evening had been as magical for Naveed and Taina as the wedding had been. The festivities had lasted until all three moons had risen in the night sky, a whirlwind of food, spice, dancing, and caresses. Zafim had kept Aratt occupied, had taken the young Fremen under his wing, while the couple celebrated. When the festivities wrapped, Zafim had made sure Aratt was taken care of for the evening, stationing himself outside the door to their quarters, to keep any passersby away.

What woke them, sooner than they both had hoped, was the smell of fresh coffee brewing. The bed was in disarray after their evening, both pulling on fresh robes as the sound of a person outside their bedroom, one who was humming slightly, drifted in with the smell of the coffee. It wasn’t Zafim’s voice, nor was it Aratt’s voice; it was deeper, smoother than the Fedaykin or the boy.

When they had taken care of their morning ablutions and were ready, they came out as one to see who it was that Zafim would have allowed to interrupt their morning, their honeymoon. Sitting at the dining table in his stillsuit, a steaming mug of thick coffee in his hands was Stilgar, a crooked smile on his face.

He gestured at the seats, “Please, join me. I will get you coffee or your drink of choice to begin the day. I also apologize that I have interrupted your celebration but…” He stood, pacing over to the coffee service, taking mugs from their spots, before bringing the carafe, the mugs, the sugar, milk, and fixing for tea as well back to the table. Sitting one more, “there is news. News from the capital, brought by city dwellers who have fled the actions of Rabban.”

TAGS: @Adalia-Durron, @Sinrebirth (Thank you for continuing this character, I’d hate to see him disappear) (Combo with each other and GM)

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Ginaz Residence

The thick walls of the Residence dulled sound. Almost all Aya-Carolina could hear was the footsteps of the Lieutenant and the guards as they headed down the corridor to the safe room. Almost…but not enough to completely silence the sounds of maula pistols firing, of knives clashing, of the dull grunts of men being stabbed or shot that came from the scene outside she’d just come from. When she’d begun to turn the Lieutenant gave her a dark look, “I said no chances they could be assassins, I care not if they’d worked here for years.” he stated coldly.

The walk otherwise became a tense affair, quietly tense, until they reached the safe room. Two guards took station outside the room, the Lieutenant taking her inside. It was sparsely furnished, a tiny kitchen, a bed and dresser, several lamps, a desk as well. Notably absent were any other doors or points of egress, the door they had entered from was the only portal into the room. “If there are communiques for you, we shall bring them to you.” the Lieutenant stated before he stepped back out of the door, the sound of it locking filled the air.

She had no idea how long she’d been in the room, on her own, there were no timepieces either, it seemed as much a prison cell as it was a safe room. She did, however, have time to study what she’d found at the scene of the bodies as well as go over her own mental notes.

There were dull sounds outside the door of the room at some point, sounds that probably would have been even louder if the walls or door were any less thick. They went on for several minutes, peaking and ebbing before they finally ended. A few minutes after they had the sound of the door being unlocked reached her ears. It swung open slowly, revealing a slightly haggard looking Chiar standing there, slashes on his stillsuit and one that had opened a wound on his face, as well.

“Legate…Sister…we must…” he coughed wetly, “we must secret you away from here. Those are not House troops.” He sagged against the doorframe, “And, I doubt they will stop…until this Residence is…empty…”

TAG: @TheAdmiral (Combo with GM)

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The deep desert, northwest of Arrakeen, Imperial Testing Station

The miner had seen his boss’s look, had interpreted it as Randolpho had hoped. Before the trooper was able to impale himself on the miner’s blade the man had moved it, a hollow sound coming as he rapped the butt of his knife against the side of the trooper’s head. A sigh escaped the remaining miners as the trooper sagged to the floor, into unconsciousness.

Another, less injured miner, secured the prisoner, ensuring he was bound tightly, checking all over for any hidden weapons or transmitters. It took some time, several more of Randolpho’s crew arriving and patching up the wounded in the meantime. Once that was all done, the bodies had to be disposed of, taken to a deep shaft inside the compound, Chok having led them to it.

Finally, with the room cleared, a sturdy chair was brought in, the miners using several of their tools to securely bolt it to the floor. They took the bound captive, almost tossing him into the chair. With several holding his still unconscious form in place, several others removed his restraints, using them again to secure his arms to the arms of the chair, his legs to the legs of it. Another loop was loose around his neck, just enough to let him breathe and speak, but not move his head much more. One of them, more talented, checked his teeth, pulling several that looked suspicious, before the team leader took a bucket of sand, throwing it in the trooper’s face, to wake him. The man began to curse when he finally awoke, arms and legs straining to test the strength of the restraints.

“Boss, he’s ready if you have questions.”

The trooper turned his head as much as he could, spitting bloody spittle onto the floor, “I have nothing to tell you, Atreides scum.” he got out, weakly but fervently.

TAG: @Mitth_Fisto (combo with the GM)

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Moritani Residence, Carthage, Arrakis

The Sub-Levensbrech was concerned. Murad had disappeared and, given the people they were supposed to be imitating Household troops of worried even his kind, his people. Murad had come on strong when they arrived and had spoken to the Legate. It hadn’t helped that the Legate had a fiance, a woman of another House and a Bene Gesserit, with him when they arrived. It worked counter to the sets of orders they had received and Murad, having lost a sister to becoming one of the witches, had acted oddly for his position.

And now he was gone. There was no trace of the man, as though he’d not even moved into his quarters that they had been given. The Sub-Levensbrech had his orders in a situation such as this, he needed to report to home. To have more troops sent, hopefully before the intelligence they had that the woman’s Household troops had given of their arrival time occurred. The last they needed here was to disappoint either the Emperor or the Viscount. Either could destroy them in a heartbeat, in different ways.

As Ike and Trinnian had the shadows secure the Levensbrech, as all their loyal troops formed a living wall around the deepest, most secure section of the Residence, the call was made. Another contingent of troops was being sent to ensure that news of what might have happened with the one House the Emperor did not want a war with would never escape. It had now become a race of time, which would arrive first, the Ezharian troops or the Sardaukar reinforcements.

As they waited, Trinnian held her fiance, “My love, I could…ask the Sisterhood for aid.”

TAG: @Sinrebirth (Combo with GM)

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Tag for Clarence Mudze and Thufir Hawat to roll over. @BobaMatt

Tag for @Mira Grau (Cassandra) and @pashatemur (Sokanon), in progress, to roll over, continue.

 

IC: Ike - combo with the DM!

As they were want to do, they lay in bed together, killing the time before, well, they were killed or killed.

It was not an unfamiliar sensation for him, and Ike had imbibed, relaxed, and cavorted as he saw fit. With Trinnian, without, with her and others. Because why not. He was Legate. She was Witch. They took what and who they wanted.

All except the Emperor, of course.

To her question, he kissed her bare shoulder and wondered. "Would they proffer it? Are they so invested in us that they are not elsewhere?" He opted for a hopeful tone, to continue to sound politically naïve. A Fremen and a brutal judge of character he was, but he was no nobleman. He may as well be underestimated, even in the boudoir.

Trinnian shrugged at the question, running her hand over his chest as she thought. That drew a frown, "I'd have to ask a more...experienced Sister...but I suspect, unless your bloodline was one we need...no they wouldn't." She was surprised at the honesty of her response, some of what she'd said were secrets of the Sisterhood but they were in a life or death moment and she knew if they died him knowing wouldn't matter. And if they survived it would only bring more trust between them.

"So...it's down to hoping my troops arrive soon. And that yours are as good as they've already shown."

One we need.

Ike turned that over in his head.

"We could always procure the bloodline they do require," he said, absently. "I am sure smoke and mirrors is all well and good, but we would just take whatever they want, use us as patsies, and step in thereafter on a disconnected matter."

A smile. "We can be seen to be hiding in the Sisterhood's skirts."

Trinnian shivered at the thought of what Ike was suggesting. "Where among the people here could we procure it?" she asked in a seemingly frightened tone. "And...trust me...you do not want to come under the gaze of the Truthseers."

Outside their secure suite a war was being raged, the Sub-Levensbrech had his men searching to close off any potential escape from the suite he'd determined that the Legate and his fiance were ensconced in. But the damnable Shadows were making that harder and harder. Three times now the second line patrols had come upon quads laying dead in the corridors. As well, twice now other quads had returned from deeper movements in the Residence with severe injuries. He wasn't even sure if they had killed even one of the Shadows.

What made matters worse was the message his comm team had intercepted, that the Ezharian troops had arrived in orbit and were soon to land at the Residence landing pad.

"Brute force, of course, as a cover for our Shadows."

The violence continued out the room; they could hear it now.

Ike stood from the bed, draped himself merely in a sheet that only showed his scarred physique and muscular torso while making a silhouette of everything else.

"Remain here, my dear, and I will entreaty the soldiers; stall them until our reinforcements arrive."

Trinnian nodded to her fiance, shivering as she thought about how, even just by discussing it, the Truthsayers would be able to draw it out of them, when they were brought before them. "I will...do not die, beloved." she whispered.

The sounds of frigate engines permeated the outer corridors of the Residence, bolstering the defending Shadows but causing the Sub Levensbrech's troops to fight as hard, with a fierce and cold determination. He found himself having to draw a portion of his troops from the direct fighting, to create a killing zone for the troops that were coming to defend the Legate and his fiance.

A smaller subset of them had their own mission. With each back and forth, with each gain and loss of rooms in the Residence, that set of troops examined the rooms, to find any clue to the location of the Levensbrech, to know what had happened to their commander, and to retrieve him as he was the only one with the encryption codes to request reinforcements from their world.

Ike stepped out of his bedroom, readying a blade, his fingers gloved with technological affairs, a small shield attached to his off hand bracer. He was, otherwise, covered in a sheet and nothing else.

Bare foot he walked towards the sound of the fighting.

The loudest voices.

The commanding voices.

He was ready to fight, rather than leverage his squalid political life for more politics.

The Sub Levensbrech was his target.

As soon as the quads noticed that the secure hatch to the inner sanctum of the Residence had opened and shut again, a runner was sent to the Sub Levensbrech. One of the quads shadowed the man who had emerged, knowing it was the Legate. Their task was made more difficult by the fact that the damnable Shadows made them have to take alternate routes in the corridors from the one the man was using, to avoid those troops.

When the runner reached him the Sub Levensbrech's eyes narrowed, the course the man seemed to be following was bringing him towards this command post. Turning back to the runner once more, "He must be stopped before he reaches here or the Residence comm facility. Utilize the natives weapons so that it appears he was terminated by them. If he gets a signal out, either to the Viscount or the Landsraad, it will appear that even the Moritani are not immune to the current situation."

The runner darted away as the troops around the command post moved into more defensible postions, should the Legate reach them. Further along the corridor, the quad leader received the order from the runner, who then disappeared deeper into the Residence. Only a few moments later the four of them surrounded the Legate, blocking him into the center of where two corridors met. "Sir, I would recommend returning to your quarters, unsavory native elements have invaded the Residence." the quad leader told the Legate in a stern tone.

"I'm quite aware. Do you not need some time to stall them? Would not diverting their assault on a merry chase give you time to harden your defenses elsewhere?" He smiled drily. "A gun, if you would. I intend to show my face, and lead them astray. If anything goes awry, I will not hold you accountable."

The leader of the quad gave Ike a look, eyes narrowed for a moment. Taking one dagger from his weapons belt he flipped it, presenting the hilt to the young man. "An extra pistol will only draw everyone's fire to you, from both sides. This is...safer." he stated.

He accepted the dagger with a smirk. "I promise not to lose it."

The noise was approaching, and he turned to face it. Ike looked completely out of place, but this was his home. Ike wouldn't just let it fall.

If the attackers rushed towards his love, then they would miss him. If they rushed him... she'd survive. He would defend himself. She, he was not so sure she could for long, so it was better this way, Ike thought.

TAG: @darthbernael

 

Sietch Tabr, the following morning
Naveed and Taina with Stilgar (@Sinrebirth now as Naveed) Thank you to you both for this effort


The evening had been as magical for Naveed and Taina as the wedding had been. The festivities had lasted until all three moons had risen in the night sky, a whirlwind of food, spice, dancing, and caresses. Zafim had kept Aratt occupied, had taken the young Fremen under his wing, while the couple celebrated. When the festivities wrapped, Zafim had made sure Aratt was taken care of for the evening, stationing himself outside the door to their quarters, to keep any passersby away.

What woke them, sooner than they both had hoped, was the smell of fresh coffee brewing. The bed was in disarray after their evening, both pulling on fresh robes as the sound of a person outside their bedroom, one who was humming slightly, drifted in with the smell of the coffee. It wasn’t Zafim’s voice, nor was it Aratt’s voice; it was deeper, smoother than the Fedaykin or the boy.

When they had taken care of their morning ablutions and were ready, they came out as one to see who it was that Zafim would have allowed to interrupt their morning, their honeymoon. Sitting at the dining table in his stillsuit, a steaming mug of thick coffee in his hands was Stilgar, a crooked smile on his face.

He gestured at the seats, “Please, join me. I will get you coffee or your drink of choice to begin the day. I also apologize that I have interrupted your celebration but…” He stood, pacing over to the coffee service, taking mugs from their spots, before bringing the carafe, the mugs, the sugar, milk, and fixing for tea as well back to the table. Sitting one more, “there is news. News from the capital, brought by city dwellers who have fled the actions of Rabban.”

Naveed felt full. Not by food, no, but his soul felt full. Celebrating nuptials was as breathless as it was electric, and so, slightly worse for wear physically but spiritually buoyed, Naveed was happy to see a coffee.

As Stilgar spoke, he made a drink for both of them, checking with Taina her preferences for sugar and so forth, and then arched an eyebrow. "News implies bad news. Is this your wedding gift, Stilgar?" His tone was light. Naveed wanted for nothing, he was very fortunate in that respect.

He comfortably rested his hand in Taina's as they caught up.

Waking slowly, Taina chose to keep her eyes closed as she listened. Someone was in their quarters, and as this was all new to her she remained perfectly still in a state of simulated sleep. It wasn't till her new husband moved that she opened her eyes. Smiling at the memories of the previous night she listened as he moved. Slipping from the messy bed she gazed at him as she pulled her robe around her, clearly he wasn't terribly concerned about their guest in the next room and she trusted that. They dressed and completed ablutions in a comfortable silence, one she herself found to be deep and bonding.

Once they entered the next room she was a little surprised to see Stilgar sitting comfortably as if he'd made himself at home, a steaming mug of coffee in his hands. His offer of coffee was kind but she preferred the tea, and sweet at that so quietly proceeded to make it herself as she listened. Sitting quietly beside Naveed, she looked down at her lap where he'd rested his hand in hers, a small gesture, but one that showed in her mind, an show of affection.

The mention of potentially 'bad news' had her attention focused and interest peaked.

Sipping from his coffee, Stilgar hid a smile behind the mug. Love, especially new love, was a gift and he enjoyed seeing it. Even in times like this it was a blessing. Taking another sip, he set the mug down.

"I said news. I never said whether it was good news or bad. Although...potentially it could be either one." He knew his reply was cryptic but it was the truth.

Pouring more coffee from the carafe, he stirred it, watching it swirl, "Rabban's quota has been increased. Without a corresponding increase in the funds he could use or troops he can draw from his House." Adding a clump of sugar, he stirred his coffee again. "You tell me what that means to you about what is to come here on our world."

Taina figured it out immediately, but this was a different time and place to what she'd lived in the past. Not wanting to over step her new husband, she chose to remain silent as she sipped her tea, her keen eyes watching both men.

Naveed narrowed his eyes. "Trouble, inevitably. Quotas go up, troubles with them." He eyed his drink, less happy than he had been a mere moment ago. "I can see why this couldn't wait but it is rather annoying, Stilgar. A bit of stability wouldn't go awry, what with all the grief the Empire has had recently." He squeezed Taina's hand, and held the grip, soft but firm, reaching to her for support while keeping his expression unreadable.

It was strange, she could not read his expression, could not clearly understand his thoughts, yet, she did. Returning the squeeze, she put her tea down, her face expressing her thoughts, but not clearly. This, to her, only meant things were going to get worse, going to potentially start a war, and a bloody one at that. Silently she stared at the tea, it was simply a place to stare while she thought.

"Word has reached us from offworld as well. Which will compound your analysis, Naveed." Stilgar stated, stirring his coffee and taking a sip. "It appears, before they were defeated, Atreides agents burned the secret stockpiles of spice on Giedi Prime."

Taking another sip, "The pigs do not know of our strength, only that we are a pest upon them. I suspect the city dwellers will be driven out to hunt for more spice, under heavy guard. And those unable to mine will be forced into the desert to die or to be a drain on what few resources the pigs suspect we have."

Taina tilted her head with interest, she was aware this group of Fremen we well supplied, but could they take refugees? Would they? It would be interesting to hear the thoughts of the two men with her. Picking up her tea, she sipped at it as she listened.

"We should intervene, but I doubt we can... save for to disappear those who run away." He looked to Taina. "Thoughts, my love? I would like to proffer our happiness to others, but we can hardly send in someone's." He eyed Stilgar. "Can we? What do we have on-world, if anything."

"I have none, this is not my strength, nor is it my place to comment on things I am still trying to learn and understand myself." Taina held her tea to her lips as she spoke, "I do not have an opinion, other than I am by your side, whatever you wish to do, Naveed, you will have my skills and my support in all endeavors." It was vague but she was being honest.

He smiled at her, warmed by her faith in him, and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "And you will have all of mine, Taina."

The faintest hint of a blush stained her creamy cheeks as she coyly looked down to her tea as she gave a single nod of acknowledgement.

He looked back to Stilgar with a smile that was all warmth.

Taina shifted her weight thoughtfully, "I potentially have the ability to sense when someone is not being truthful, it's not....entirely accurate, but I can....pick up...nuances. If you feel they may 'pepper' the refugees with potential spies, I may be able to detect such an interloper."

Naveed nodded, slowly. "If we can do that while exposing you to minimal harm, I'll agree." He eyed their compatriot. "Presumably you need funds to send to third parties who will anonymously intervene on our behalf, too." A slight smile. "Sufficiently laundered of course... I may have to dip into the pot put aside for the children, mind you." His smile broadened at the mere idea of children with Taina.

Catching the smile, she looked down feeling her cheeks flush as she smiled herself. In all honesty, in this situation, it was not an option she'd considered. The very fact he even had a 'pot' put aside for such a circumstance was more than a little surprising considering the current climate of the situation. Did he somehow know he'd meet someone, her? Drawing a deep breath, she sat up again, "you do not need to protect me, I'm able to take care of myself with guidance." She stated bravely.

"And I will burn down the world of any who dares threaten you, my love," he said solemnly, meeting her eyes.

He held her hand to his mouth and kissed it. "You are the kind of trouble I live and breathe for, my love."

Smiling she said nothing, only holding his gaze for a handful of seconds.

He kissed her hand, and wrist, stopping himself to glance at company. “I may need you to speak up, I may be unable to hear you from the sound of amorous pursuits.” He flashed a smile, all warmth, nothing remotely greedy about it; he worshipped her, and wished to do so more.

Glancing at the entryway to the quarters the pair shared Stilgar allowed a small smile to cross his face. Turning back to the couple, "Something tells me young Aratt will gain much from the example you are setting for him, not only to be a warrior but to be a good person."

Sipping his coffee again, "But first we must handle what the Harkonnen have planned. I am certain though that there will be even more infiltrators, as I said already, than they have attempted in the past." Sighing, "But you both have come up with worthy ideas to handle the problem. Are you both willing to lead this part of our strategy?"

"I know one of us should be in the field, and one of us should be at home, that's basic strategy, but the Harkonnen will pick at us if we're isolated." He paused. "Dear, are you happy for me to be your shadow in the refugee matters?"

Taina regarded him carefully, "you believe I would be best to lead rather than follow?" She asked carefully.

["You're a more beautiful face than I," he quipped, smiling in jest.

"I hardly think that is an attribute in this situation." She replied with a wry smile.

"You win more with honey than not," a slight laugh, then he looked back to Stilgar. "We need to ensure the other Houses think this is a purely charitable affair, after all. Not anything designed to undermine them. Can we walk that line, do you think?"

The amused expression was still upon the face of the leader of the sietch as he listened to the pair. "It seems you both have come up with the beginnings of a plan. As long as you can flesh it out we will be able to keep the pigs confused." His deep blue eyes looked into Naveed's similar ones. "As to the offworlders...they still do not know that we pay off the Spacing Guild to ensure the orbitals of our world remain free from observers. Everything that happens in our desert is known only to us."

Naveed smiled back. "Well then, if you are satisfied, my old friend, I have a need of my wife." He went to stand, and end the impromptu but welcome interruption of their affairs.

"You do?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, "should I be bold enough to inquire as to why?" Taina tilted her head to the side as she spoke to her husband.


TAG @Sinrebirth @darthbernael and anyone else playing!

 

OOC: Posting this for @TheAdmiral so the update can go up.

IC: Aya Carolina
Ginaz Residence

It seems events were unfolding as they walked through the corridor. Aya managed to keep her cool. After all fear was indeed the mindkiller. She needed to be focused if she were to survive this. There had barely been any time for her to find a thread that she could pull to unravel this conspiracy.

She could protest or even use the Voice against the guardsman leading her to what was to be her glorified prison cell. All in the name of her protection. As if she needed it, but was curious as to see the events unfolding. She wanted to see what the mysterious opponent would do next.

Aya was sure that the time for action was fast approaching. She would sit in her safe room and plan ahead. Being locked up would be quite useful as it provided her with an opportunity to process the earlier events and study her findings. Whoever was behind this made a slip up, they had left her with materials from which she could infer some valuable data.

She had a rough idea how much time had passed. Her control over her body provided her with a simple internal clock. It was not precise, but she could measure time using her heartbeats.

What was that? There was someone at the door. Her muscles tensed, ready to defend herself when the bloodied figure of Chiar appeared at the door. "I figured as much." she said dryly "Lead the way. Are there any other survivors?"

TAG: Anyone who wishes to read

 

OOC: Read the first tag everyone, before reading your own tag as the first has bearing on everyone else's tags.

“The Guild Navigators, gifted with limited prescience, had made the fatal decision: they’d chosen always the clear, safe course that leads ever downward into stagnation.”
Paul Atreides - Dune​

​

Kaitain, Landsraad Council

It was not a regular occurrence that the Padishah Emperor addressed the Landsraad. But times were not regular. Rumors were rife of dissent among a large swath of the Houses Minor and even among several of the Houses Major. That the closest House to the throne, besides the Corrino who sat upon it, had been destroyed had already destabilized the Landsraad and events that had occurred since had only fractured the cracks in alliances that had lasted for millennia.

That the Harkonnen were in ascendence had, to their allies and enemies alike, not been a surprise with the downfall of the Atreides. However their fief of Arrakis had proven a much harder nut to crack than it had the previous time they had held the fief.

The Emperor, an erstwhile ally of the Harkonnen, had not made the situation any easier for the House, demanding more and more spice with every quota. Beyond that, he’d had the Spacing Guild lower transport costs several times in the last nine months. If they were lowered any further even the Houses Minor would be able to afford sending lighters to Arrakis to harvest spice themselves.

Beyond even that, he’d had his personal assassin, Viscount Hundro Moritani, visit many of the Houses Major and the most powerful of the Houses Minor. Those visits had left the respective Houses with little doubt that he would return or rather that his House’s assassins would if the Houses did not follow the Emperor’s edicts. Today he sat in Council, seemingly relaxed. What was odd to some observers was that House Ordo’s seat had been moved to beside that of House Moritani. The Lady Galina Ordo was seated in attendance with her Bene Gesserit attendant, Sister Cassandra, standing behind and between both seats. The whispers about that, as well as the fact that rumors abounded that the Viscount’s own Bene Gesserit was still recovering from spice poisoning meant that most gave the trio a respectful distance.

The seat nearest the seats of those two Houses occupied by a House Major, in close proximity, was the seat of House Ezharian. The Lord of that House sat in attendance and, should further rumors be given credit, his own daughter was engaged to the House Moritani Legate to Arrakis. The fact that House Ezharian had sent a contingent of household guard there to reinforce the Moritani compound had been noted among other Houses.

Almost as far opposite those seats, as far as could be placed without seeming to be part of the House Harkonnen allies, was the seat of the Lord of House Ginaz. He had a contemplative look upon his face as he and the others waited for the Emperor’s arrival, his gaze drifting back to look at his hated rival and those gathered near, on occasion. Those Houses Major that had been allies alongside Ginaz with House Atreides had turned to Ginaz to lead them, another reason the Baron was seated as far from the Harkonnen as possible.

As opposed to his usual custom the Baron Vladimir Harkonnen was actually in attendance, seated near where the Emperor’s throne had been placed. His expression was unreadable at the moment, even his closest allies had moved their seats further from his, distancing themselves from what they expected to be fallout between him and the Emperor, whether today or in the near future.

The whispered conversations fell silent as the double doors at the end of the Council hall were flung open. Four files entered through the doors, the inner files clad in the uniform of the Spacing Guild, the outer in the uniforms of Sardaukar. Once they had entered they pressed those of the Houses Minor that had moved towards the door back as they stepped outward, leaving a channel from them to the dais upon which the Houses Minor sat and beyond the throne of the Emperor.

Through the door then strode the dark clad figure of the Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam, the Emperor’s Truthsayer. She paid no attention to the Landsraad as she walked, stopping finally beside the throne, turning and bowing as one last figure entered. This figure, clad in the uniform of a Supreme Bashar of the Sardaukar was unmistakable, the Padishah Emperor Shaddam IV. Through the corridor opened for him he walked, the same lack of attention the Reverend Mother had given he likewise gave the Landsraad.

Only when he’d reached the throne, turned, and sat upon it did his attention turn to the assembled nobles of the Empire. “Sit.” he stated in a flat but carrying voice, lacking any of the subtle nuance of one who had the Voice but carrying the note of command. Even the Baron Harkonnen paled at the emotionless statement, sitting without any of the snide banter he was known for.

As his Truthsayer looked on in amusement at the sudden silence and response to his command Shaddam raked the audience of the Landsraad with his gaze. Only when it touch upon the Viscount Moritani did it thaw to any degree, before it moved on once again. The silence dragged out, the only noise that of the recorders that would save the Emperor’s words and send them out to all corners of the Imperium.

After the initial, withering gaze Shaddam reclined in the throne, an almost friendly look on his face. “What is the currency of the Imperium?” he asked, conversationally. “Anyone….?” he went on, still smiling as he peered out at the assembled Houses.

From the back of the hall, from a younger son of a House Minor, came the shaky reply. “Spice…”

With a look that now made his resemblance to the assassinated Duke Atreides even more pronounced, Shaddam locked eyes with the young noble. “Exactly!” he replied, tone flat once again. “Without the Spice Melange, the Imperium crumbles and humanity is relegated to scrabbling in the dirt of a hundred worlds, cut off from every other world.”

As his clenched fist came down on the arm of the throne his hawklike gaze swiveled to face Baron Harkonnen, “So then, Vladimir, tell me why you have failed, time and again, to meet the very generous quotas that I have given you?”

His already pallid skin paled further as Baron Harkonnen shrank from the gaze of the Emperor. His head turned back and forth as though to seek support from those he had coerced into being his allies. Seeing none, he swallowed, turning back to face the Emperor. Taking the lapels of his coat in his hands the suspensors under it hissed as they lifted him to his feet. “My Liege has been more than generous with the quotas you have assigned. However…” One arm swept out in an expansive gesture, “however, I doubt any among you, even you my Leige, understand the depths of depravity that the scum that inhabit that planet will fall to to keep the spice from ever leaving Arrakis.”

His hand grasped his lapel once more, “On what other world do children throw themselves at quads and even lighters, screaming the name of their false god, sacrificing themselves to destroy what they attack?” he asked. With a pointed look at the Emperor, their shared secret of what a good portion of the levy of Arrikis consisted in the look, “The na-Baron has reported that the troop levies he currently has are not sufficient to protect the amount of harvesters needed to fulfill the quota. I have instructed him to,”

The Emperor waved a hand languidly, “Yes, yes, you’ve told Rabban that he gets no more troops and that he must,” his gaze once more swept the throng, “commandeer every available levy and harvester to fulfill his quota.” he almost purred.

Outraged murmurs erupted from among many of the Houses Minor. There had been rumors that the harvesting crews they’d lost contact with had not been destroyed but had been compromised and hijacked by the Harkonnens but they had just been rumors, until now. Here, in open council, Baron Harkonnen had admitted that he’d ordered the na-Baron to do just as they feared.

“Silence.” The Emperor spat out, his Truthseeker smiling with a dark look. He looked at the seniormost Guild agent who nodded, “Transport costs will be further reduced. The quota will be filled, whether by the Harkonnen or by others.” His eyes locked with those of Baron Harkonnen, a flat smile on his face. “Let us make this interesting, whichever House can fulfill the quota will be awarded a CHOAM directorship and the fief of Arrakis...”

TAG: @Mira Grau (Single for the intervening months and then combo for the continuation), Everyone else for the Emperor’s words

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Moritani Legate’s Residence

As Ike turned to head deeper into the Residence shots rang out, the coughing sound of maula pistols. He swung back to see the quad he’d just been speaking to collapsing to the floor of the corridor, their weapons were generally pointed in his direction. THe obvious sign was that they had been about to shoot him in the back before they fell.

The sounds of more firing filled the corridor, as did the sound of troops drawing nearer. A different quad moved towards him from a cross corridor, weapons quivering, the emblem of House Ezharian on their armor. The leader of the quad drew them to a halt before him. “Legate, Lady Ezharian has been secured, as has the Residence. There has been aid from unusual sources, I assume that is from your own Household troops that were already present.”

As a dark form descended from the ceiling a dry, coughing laugh came from it. “You assume correctly.”

It didn’t take much longer for Ike and Trinnian to be reunited. THe Sub Levensbrech was brought to them in restraints, joining his commander. After a brief and almost futile interrogation the pair was sent off under guard on a lighter to be sent to the Viscount with a note about their actions.

Over the course of the next month, the Ezharian troops, levies bought from the Ordos, were reinforced by more Moritani assassins, securing their position. As well, Viscount Hundro had more spice miners and equipment sent to increase the amount they were able to gather. The actions of the Harkonnen caused them issues, whether it was harvester crews being suborned and taken or because their locations were leaked to the Fremen of the desert.

They were able to gather enough each of the next couple months to meet the quota that Hundro had set, making their position even more secure. It was on a regular morning, the pair of them sitting down to coffee in the Residence’s breakfast room, that the courier arrived.

With a bow to the pair he laid a recording device and the tape to it on the table before them. “The Viscount has sent forth the recording of the last meeting of the Landsraad as well as a message for the Legate. He suggests that the recording is listened to before the message is read.” He bowed once more then departed the breakfast room, leaving the pair with the recording and their coffee and meal.

TAG: @Sinrebirth (Single for the intervening months and then combo for the continuation)

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Sietch Tabr

The next few days were a mix of the last fling of honeymoon for Naveed and Taina as well as the pair of them, with Aratt’s help, beginning to pack up their living space for the move that would soon occur. It was complicated by the fact that they needed to ensure that once the living space was moved out of that there was no trace that it had ever held a living being.

A week after the meeting with Stilgar the honeymoon was over as Naveed was called away. He was only able to inform Taina that he would be gone for an extended period and that his mission was the opposite end of hers, to guide and lead the Fedaykin that would infiltrate the towns and villages, to guide the city dwellers to the sietches and beyond. She would be the one to assist training others in the battle forms of the Bene Gesserit as well as integrating the newcomers into the Fremen population.

South Polar Region, Hidden Sietch

Aratt had become Taina's shadow over the last couple months, ever since Naveed had been sent out to the cities. So, when a Fedaykin entered the training hall where she was demonstrating Bene Gesserit fighting tactics to a class of newly trained warriors, walking over to the boy and whispering in his ear, she paid close attention. The Fedaykin nodded to her as he left, the boy walking slowly towards her with a frown.

When he joined her she set the class to sparring each other at half speed so she could observe while Aratt spoke to her. He was still frowning, "No news of Naveed or Zafim..." he said curtly. "But that was..." he shook his head, "Stilgar sent a message that he wishes for you to join him in council with Maud'dib and the Sayaddina."

He held up his hand to her, “Can I take you to them? I really,” a silly grin crossed his face, “really would like to meet Muad’dib.” he told her.

TAG: @Adalia-Durron (Single for the intervening months and then combo for the continuation), @Sinrebirth (Mentioned)

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Carthag, Slums

The patched and repatched stillsuit creaked as Naveed’s nose caught the aroma of coffee, waking him from his slumber. The suit had been cared for as well as the Fedaykin could, in the last three months of active work, without the skilled craftsmen of the sietch available. It was still of higher quality than those of the city dwellers but he knew he’d need to return to the deep desert soon to have a new one made.

That and to hide the fact of all the near avoidance of death he’d had, from his wife. He’d missed her in the last three months, the bracelet of a braid of her hair he wore was polished almost glistening by the stroking of its strands he’d done in quiet moments. He doubted she’d be as worried that he’d avoided death as she would chide him for allowing any of the pigs to get close enough for that to even happen.

The scent of coffee grew stronger, causing him to open his eyes and take in the dry, dusty, and small residence he called his living space currently. It was not the first and wouldn’t be the last he called that but right now what mattered was the younger Fremen who carefully carried a steaming mug towards him.

He took it, thanking the young woman before he took a sip. She stayed standing there, waiting, which made his lips quirk in a small smile before he thanked her. One of his eyebrows rose, though, when she remained standing before him after that.

She seemed nervous, “There was a communication while you slept…” she stammered out. “They are…preparing to…destroy any parts of the cities that aren’t…fully under their control…”

This dusty building was her home and had been since birth but now, with this news, she knew she needed to leave. And the Fedaykin sitting before her was the one who would have to guide her away.

TAG: @Sinrebirth (Single for the intervening months and then combo for the continuation)

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Carthag, Ginaz Residence

Chiar had been admitted to the rooms Aya-Carolia was in ensconced. Dyana had performed quick field dressings of the man, closing his wounds, helped by the Fremen body’s quick coagulation process, an adaptation that had developed in their time on this desert planet. There had only been enough time to do so before they had to barricade the already strong door as the selfsame troops that had appeared to assist Aya-Carolina in her recent investigation had attempted to force entry.

Thankfully the rooms she and the other two were trapped in held a reserve of foodstuff, which kept the trio going for the next few days. In that time they discovered each of the hidden passages that should not have terminated in the suite yet still did, often as one or more of those troops burst from behind a tapestry or slammed a piece of furniture out of the way to attack them. The ferocity and stamina of those attacking troops told her even more about what they truly were, several of the bodies also had Sardaukar tattoos in hidden locations which was all the proof they needed, should they survive the onslaught.

By the fourth day there were more sounds outside the thick walls of the suite, that of clashes and fighting in the halls. Eventually, a polite knock came at the door. With Aya-Carolia covering her, Dyana opened the door to find a Fedaykin side by side with a man who had the rank stripes of a Blademaster in the Ginaz house guard. They had held out in the suite long enough for reinforcements from the House, as well as Fremen troops, to arrive and clear out the rest of the Residence.

It took a month to restore the Residence to full functionality, even though pockmarks and blaster burns still showed evidence of the ferocity of the fighting that had taken place. Once they had comms again with the homeworld of the Ginaz they sent all the evidence of who had laid siege to the Residence as well as their surmises that those who had attacked previously were the same. The response told that the accusations were to be handled carefully as any accusation against the Sardaukar was one against the Emperor as well. At the same time it was told that the evidence would be passed surreptitiously to the Landsraad and that more House Blademasters would be sent to reinforce.

Over the next almost two months the Ginaz Residence became a hive of activity. Dyana had made herself almost an aide to Aya-Carolina, handling everything that she could for the Bene Gesserit Legate of the House. At the same time an underfloor had been dug out and the Residence had become a waystation for the various city dwellers that Fedaykin brought to recover before they disappeared once again, into the desert.

On occasion they received quads and official deputations from the Harkonnen, with warrants to search the Residence for signs of such activity. But, between the House troops and the Fremen present they managed to keep any signs of that from being found.

It was one warm and dry morning, as Aya-Carolina, Dyana, and Chiar were perusing the night’s reports, that a Ginaz messenger appeared. He bowed to Aya-Carolina, “Legate, the Baron has sent a report of a recent meeting of the Landsraad.” He set a recorder and a tape on the table between the three sitting there. “Events are becoming more chaotic, he says, and requests that you and the others here prepare for worse than when you became Legate. He recommends you listen to the recording and prepare accordingly.”

With another bow he turned and departed the room, his footsteps ringing as he left the Residence.

TAG: @TheAdmiral (Single for the intervening months and then combo for the continuation)

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

The deep desert, northwest of Arrakeen, Imperial Testing Station

A rictus grin crossed the man’s face at the last statement from Randolpho. He gave one more hacking cough, his tongue suddenly seeming to roll something around his mouth before he said, in a firmer voice than a few moments before, “Long live the Emperor!” before he ground his teeth together. His mouth began to foam and his eyes went blank as his head fell backwards, breath slowly rattling away into nothing.

The door opened behind the smuggler, a dry voice stating “What a waste of the body’s water…” A few moments later an older Fremen entered, Randolpho’s men seemingly startled that someone had been able to get this close without having been noticed.

The Fremen, a blood red emblem denoting he was Fedaykin on his shoulder, gave an amused smile. “Your people are still cleaning up the mess, it was simple to join you here, after Chok got a cielago out to us.”

Behind the man the teen Fremen peered around the doorframe, waving at Randolpho.

Only now did sounds filter from the hallway outside the room. “My men are cleaning up the bodies and removing evidence this unit ever came anywhere near this Testing Station. Kynes would not be pleased that they ever defiled it with their presence.”

It took several hours but, by the end, the Station was cleaned once more and Randolpho’s crew had been reinforced by a troop of Fedaykin and Fremen warriors. Chok seemed in awe of the man who had first appeared when the trooper had died, almost hero worship. He followed the older Fremen around, pestering him with question after question.

Over the next several months the Fremen assistance proved invaluable, they showed Randolpho and his crew high density spice patches, even if they were away from sketches. They patrolled around the Testing Station and intercepted several Harkonnen patrols in that time, none ever getting near the facility. And they kept the smugglers up to date with intel and reports of other smuggling crews disappearing, only for their equipment to turn up once again, with hastily painted on Harkonnen emblems on their sides.

The Fedaykin leader was sitting and sipping coffee in the dining area, Randolpho not too distant in the room one morning when one of his scouts entered. There was a whispered conversation in battlespeak between the two before the Fedaykin nodded. The scout disappeared once again and the older Fremen sighed. He stood, picking up his coffee, and made his way over to Randolpho’s table.

“The pigs are stepping up their efforts. The cities burn and they seek to burden us with refugees, at least they seek to do so to the sietches. How we are dealing with that is not your concern but we now have confirmation that those smuggler crews that disappeared did so because of orders of the Baron Harkonnen. And that such attacks are only to increase.”

As he finished speaking, he sat opposite Randolpho. “This Testing Station must stay hidden for…reasons…” he said in a more quiet and reverent tone. “I am prepared to offer you and your men a more secure base to continue. After all, most are of the House that gave us such respect before they were destroyed.”

TAG: @Mitth_Fisto (Single for the intervening months and then combo for the continuation)

 

IC: Naveed
Reflections

The honeymoon, notwithstanding the interruption, had been divinity.

Even the holiness of the Emperor himself did not compare to his wife, Taina.

The radiance of her smile, the softness of her skin, the glow of her eyes, whether laughing and warm, or hot and heavy. There entwining was complete, in soul, in matter, in law and in truth.

A week had not been long enough.

Three weeks of trying struggles against corrupt bureaucracy, cleaning up loose ends, convincing the Fedaykin to trust him, and so on and so forth. But progress had been made - many had been moved from the warring locations to safe sites, and what may have been considered a massacre was instead just shy of a tragedy but far from a genocide.

For now.

He would be back in the city again, and again he would try to get as many out as he could, without taking in terrorists - for all sides had them - and without handing over the fates of tens of thousands saved.

What a month.

To stare and worship at heaven for a week, only to face the very real hell of the Emperor's dreams.

TAG: @darthbernael, @Adalia-Durron

 

Second Post GM Approved!

IC: Ike
Months of indolence

The excitement came and went.

Disappointing, really.

Ike knew a gilded cage when he saw one, and he was certainly aware that he, and yes, Trinnian too, were within one. But was not the Emperor's vision a cage of cages of cages? The Fremen in Ike despised it.

The trappings of society were just that; trappings.

And so, he let his mind go soft, embracing the debauchery of success.

For now.

The Viscount enjoyed their success, their efforts, and Ike grew to dislike that, too.

TAG: @darthbernael

 

IC: Naveed - and a GM combo!
Dust, dust and more dust

But also coffee.

He inhaled, coughed, because, yes, dust, and slowly sat up, cautious to come to terms with his surroundings first.

“There was a communication while you slept…” she stammered out. “They are…preparing to…destroy any parts of the cities that aren’t…fully under their control…”

Naveed would have ground his face into his palms, if he knew it wouldn't cause panic. With a deep breath, he flashed a smile.

"Coffee first, crisis second."

He reached for the cup.

"Tell me more."

With a slightly shaking hand she passed the mug to Naveed, the tray then set on the table so that he could take more from the pot if he wanted. She took the empty cup she'd set upon it, pouring coffee for herself after she sat on the opposite side of the table.

Before she responded, she took a long drink of the coffee, causing her to cough as the hot liquid poured down her throat. "We...you got a message...the Harkonnen are stepping up their..." she shivered at the thought of what the message meant, "injustices against us. They no longer want to just force us out but destroy all areas of the cities which aren't fully under their control."

"We need to move everyone now," Naveed said, not drinking his coffee, too engrossed in the finer details. He swung his legs from the bed, conscious he was still wearing his clothes from yesterday, but not caring for the grubbiness of it. This was not injustice, it was war. "It may be prudent to shift to armed resistance, even if only to save more."

He knew that was a death sentence for any who fought, but otherwise Naveed simply taking a population or as much as he could would expose the rest of the survivors he had snuck out in the months before. He needed the distraction of a full armed rebellion to give confusion and chaos as a cover.

Frak.

This was going to get messy.

A look of relief crossed her face. She'd spent long enough with the Fedaykin man to know he was skilled and had a good grasp of what was needed. Her eyes widened for a moment as she turned to look out of the room. "I...I need to get the children ready." she murmured before turning back to him.

"The...pigs...have turned our people against them. I know us city dwellers have fallen in estimation by our own people, over the years. The thought that we've given in to their depravations..." She shook her head, "But we've only awaited a spark, something to show us the way to escape this prison of those who use us."

He nodded. And hoped his wife would forgive him. “I’m going topside.” Absently he checked his gear, and weapons. This might as well be a death sentence, but saving hundreds and thousands was always worth it.

TAG: @darthbernael