Commander of Dune

Chapter 3

She moved in on the battle apparatus, her thoughts still elsewhere.

'Do I tell them that I know?' She sneaked a glance at Farrah. 'Naaaah! This one I keep to myself.  Let’s see how long it takes them to catch up with me.' She sniggered. 'Even as I carry a strong resemblance to the Lady Jessica I am just as capable; may be even more so of keeping to the mission this time – produce a girl!  I can do that.  I would give them the daughter that Lady Jessica did not.'

She disarmed the device.  

As she bowed in the ancient martial arts manner of respect, she thought, enough waiting – the time had come for action.

Farrah watched the young woman and heard the giggle.  Under their tutelage she was mature for her age, but she still slipped now and then.  The program was at a crucial juncture – they needed to get off this planet!  Alexi needed to be on Dune, she needed to be exposed to Palace culture as well as Planet itself.  She turned on her heel and glided out with one thought on her mind.  Enough waiting – the time had come for action.

~*~*~*~*~

Baron Vlad Harkonnen was the latest Baron in a long line of Barons, the fourth to be named Vladimir and like all before him, sadistic.  Nicknamed Vlad by his mother as he reminded her of their ancestor Vlad the Impaler, he ruled his planet with absolute power and as any Mentat could point out the inevitable happened.  The absolute power corrupted absolutely.

Vlad was the perfect killing instrument.  He was charming even seductive at times, abilities that soothed potential victims allowing him to strike with deadly accuracy.  Now he sat facing the Prince Rammen Corrino, descendant of Shaddam IV former Emperor of the Universe, over an AVU.

Both men were tall but Vlad out weighed Rammen by a minimum of 20 kilos.  That was not the only area where he out matched the Prince.  Rammen had one burning ambition, which gave him tunnel vision.  The aspiration was not much different to all who had gone before: The re-ascension of House Corrino to the Throne.  He would lie with the Devil to get it. 

What Rammen did not realize was that he had done just that.

Vlad did not like communicating over scrambled channels.  Anything that could be scrambled could be unscrambled, but in this he had no choice, the stakes were high.  He was about to play the game of his life and he would need all his patience and savoir-faire to succeed.

“Then we are in agreement.” Rammen replied.

“Indeed.  My liaison shall  approach Ammaso and we shall fund his war effort…”

“Liberation.”  Rammen chuckled the correction.

“Of course… Liberation.” Vlad grinned.

~*~*~*~*~

The resident representative of the Bene Gesserit Reverend Mother Mo’Hadin now found herself before the Empress of the Known Universe.

Arista Atreides had all senses on high alert; she had no need of Truthsayers, this she could handle.  It was not often that the Bene Gesserit came forward with a request much less in the open like this.

“Highness.”  Mo’Handin addressed the Throne.  “The Bene Gesserit repeats its request for an evacuation of the Sisterhood from the Planet Caladan.”

Repeats?  Arista gave a mental chuckle the last request was two thousand and twenty-nine years ago.  What had changed?  She gave the standard reply.  “We are in negotiations. Of course space may be found at the table for one more interested party.”  

She studied Mo’Hadin but perceived no change.  “To ease the arrival of your negotiator – how many are involved?”

Mo’Hadin had expected the standard “negotiations” response but the question was not part of the rhythm.  She in turn repeated Gesserit propaganda.  “One Million, Highness.”

Arista did the math as the Hall gasped.  The last count by Tleilaxu revealed a population of two hundred and thirty million inhabitants.  Of course the numbers were wrong every census ever taken of humanity had never been accurate. But using the official numbers Arista projected that the Sisterhood numbers were more like ten million.  Again why now?

Mo’Hadin watched as the Empress scratched an itch.  To the untrained that is what it seemed like to her it read… You may evacuate the Ten Million of your Sisters but to Wallach IX and nowhere else.

Arista watched as the hand signaled message registered.  Now with ten million Bene Gesserit on an attempted secret exodus, she would watch to see what secret floated to light Mo’Hadin’s bowed in reply to both the public statement and the private order. 

~*~*~*~*~

The place was a dump and Amasso liked it like that.  It was filled with people that society had no use for and they in turn didn’t care.  It was the last place anyone would look for; for him and frankly he did not want to be found.  Not just yet.  

He was still stinging over the lack of action regarding Caladan.

He was drinking alone.  'Not the thing to do.' He admitted to himself but if he had to wait for company he’d never get a drink.

“I still say that Caladan has been occupied and not liberated!” He stated to the waiter who was attending to him.

“Yes my Lord.” The man said and fled.  So much for anonymity.  

“Well it is!” Amasso insisted to the vacated space.  “The Tleilaxu went in there saying that there was need to save the souls and … what a thousand?  Two thousand years later they are still there?!” He downed the wine and signaled for more.

“I say liberate the homeland! … Barkeep!”

A stranger walked up to the table.  “May I join you M’Lord?”

Amasso squinted at the man.  “I’m not Dax.”  He stated.

“I know, Major.” The man sat next to him.

Now that he didn’t have to look up Amasso studied the man.  “You look familiar.” The second glass of Spice Wine arrived but he didn’t touch it.  He liked wine but he knew the when and where of it.

The man smiled.  “I have that kind of face.”

“You have me at a disadvantage.” Amasso said.  “You know my name…”

“Oh how remiss of me! I’m Al Samoud.”  

Amasso waited.  “No last name?”

“No last name.”

“Huh.” Was the Atreides’ response, “What can I do for you?”

“No, no, no… It is what I can do for you.”  Al Samoud replied.  Then his voice dropped, “I am planning a mission to Caladan as part of an assignment to assist the Caladan Army.”

Amasso was skeptical “The Army you say.”

“I do say...  I am putting together a Special Operations Force to assist the embattled Military Forces there.” He monitored Amasso.  “I’m looking for experienced Military Men.”

“Interesting.” Was all Amasso would say.

“Surely that outburst earlier was not only talk?” Al Samoud jeered.

The jibe hit home.  “OK I’m in… on one condition.”

“OK.”

“Your last name.”

“Rabban.” Al Samoud grinned using the name of his reviled ancestor.

--