章 18: Chapter 10a-Who is Using Who?

Chapter 10a

~Two Years before the start of DUNE~

SHADDAM CORRINO IV- The Padishah Emperor

Power was an illusion. By the word of man and common acceptance, he was the most powerful man in the Imperium, and in some ways, he truly was. He ruled over Kaitain, and Salusa Secundus had the might of the infallible Sardaukar at his back. He had wealth, a considerable stake in the CHOAM company, and much more.

Yet that was all an illusion. He had risen to the throne by treachery, poisoning his own father to do so. He had been caught in the act by other forces, forces that only let him ascend for their own purposes.

The Guild wished for Spice. Their operations depended on the melange, and their navigators were now long addicted to the brown powder of mystery, and he had agreed, not that he had any intention of stopping the mining of the important and mystifying resource.

And then were the Bene Gesserit, the loathed order of women, secretive in their operations with plots with their plots. They occupied, controlled, and had influence over nearly every House in the Imperium, claiming only ever to serve the 'Greater Good' yet Shaddam knew it all to be a lie.

They had demanded a marriage, and so he had ended up marrying Lady Anirul Corrino, plotting, promising himself revenge against these powers once he had an heir of his own, an heir that could be used to bring together allies, like-minded houses as he showed them all the true might of House Corrino and the Empire.

But such a destiny would elude him. After more than a decade and a half of marriage, he would be blessed with only daughters—five of them—yet no son, no heir, no prince to wed, to inherit his throne, no opportunity for the alliance he so desperately needed. This was the crux of his frustration, the catalyst for his plans for revenge and alliances.

And he would never come, the Imperial doctor having confirmed his impotency years ago now, as he sat in his solar on Kaitain, surrounded by only darkness, only the glimmer of the screen infront of him. The weight of his impotency, the crushing reality of his inability to produce a male heir, bore down on him, a constant reminder of his failure.

The screen had a picture, a shoddy image, of a planet he had never yet set foot on. Arrakis was a desert wasteland of little value except that it held the precious Melange that was at the centre of the Imperium and the Landsraad.

The planet had been governed by House Harkonen, a House famous for its treachery and hate of House Atreides. The Harkonens had grown wealthy because of their position and had grown in influence, for Baron Vladimir Harkonen was a shrewd, if not an honorable, man who had put the wealth he had obtained to good use.

"So it is true," he spoke to the figure lingering in the shadows, the man who had grown up with him, his only true confidante. Count Hasimir Fenring, stepped forward, the man was the most skilled assassin in the Imperium and had helped him poison his own father.

"It is. House Harkonen has been taking some considerable losses on Arrakis from this individual. He has been harassing their supply lines, and has even attacked the city a few times," he confirmed as Shaddam's eyes narrowed on the person in the picture. He was tall and dressed as those wretched Fremen, yet his eyes weren't Fremen.

The desert dwellers had blue eyes, the color of which came from exposure to spice. Yet this person had eyes of green, at least what he could tell from the picture.

And the most disturbing thing about him wasn't those eyes. No, it was the symbol stitched into his back, a sigil of sorts, one that was quite familiar. A pair of wings interspersed on one another.

"He commands a small group. Highly skilled and elite, they target supply lines, mostly damaging equipment. I would have thought them smugglers, but they rarely take much spice. No, this group is not after spice, they are after something else, and to do what they have been, they must have some considerable backing," Hasimir concluded, as he stepped forward, coming out of the shadow, as Shaddam's eyes remained narrowed on the sigil stitched into the jacket.

"What chance could it be that they are local, simple Fremen?" he questioned.

"They could be, but his behavior and attacking pattern are different than Fremen's. His weapons are different as well, it could be a new group, but the biggest issue is had it been simple Fremen, the Baron would have reported it to the Landsraad, calling for a culling," Hasimir pointed out.

"And yet, despite the attacks, he has not complained, not even once," he finished as he looked up at Hasimir.

"You must have an inkling of whom I think might be behind this," he began as he stood up and walked up to the massive window wall, allowing him to glance out at the expansive castle below him.

"He uses a pair of wings as his symbol. Wings. Of the three major Houses, only one House bears a sigil with wings," he spoke into the darkness as Hasimir stepped besides him.

"The Atredies," he confirmed, and he nodded as his lips thinned at that.

House Atreides was the second most powerful House in the Imperium and was growing more and more powerful with every passing day. He had called the duke brother once, and Leto and he shared blood and battle.

Yet he was blessed, unlike Shaddam. He had taken his lover as a concubine and remained unmarried to this day, their first union resulting in the birth of a healthy heir. Paul, a boy of over ten now, a few years younger than Irulan, his eldest.

House Atreides wielded much power in the Landsraad and had a probable heir, along with the growing Legionnaires.

"Their influence continues to grow in the Landsraad, and their Legionnaires, though untested and few in number, are very well trained and could grow up to rival the Sardaukar," Hasimir retold him the facts, facts he knew already.

"Leto finally makes a move against me. The Red Duke shows his hand," he spoke, and Hasimir shrugged.

"There is not much to connect them, but I would expect nothing less of the Duke's mentat. Thuifr Hawat is one skilled man; it would be unlike him to leave any traces." Hasimir praised the man, and Thufir Hawat was indeed renowned throughout the galaxy for his skills and undying devotion to the House of Atreides.

"The Baron did not raise a complaint for the embarrassment it would have caused, and if he does. There is a chance that the Duke's group could ask for the removal of House Harkonen, citing the importance of Spice production. A clever ploy," Hasimir praised, and it was indeed quite clever.

And somewhat unlike the Duke, who claimed to be holier than thou. Yet the power was just that. It would make mortal out of the honourable Leto Atreides.

"What are we to do, my Great Emperor?" Hasimir questioned as his mind raced.

"We must do as we did when I decided to ascend the throne," he began as he looked into Hasimir's eyes.

"We must put an end to this threat, and for that, I believe we already have a perfect instrument."

"The Harkonens?"

"Indeed, and now we must choose how to use them."

0000

SHISHAKLI

Two years had passed since they had separated from Sietch Tabr and gone their separate way. What had begun as a simple crusade with less than twenty men had now expanded beyond her wildest dreams.

They now had over a dozen hideouts and more than thirty thousand men and women at their beck and call. These were only those who had enlisted with them, abandoning their old sietches, families, and much more to devote themselves to this cause.

There were many who had not chosen to join them outright, people who lived in Sietches but prayed for them and sometimes even worked for them. They had contacts in many Sietches, and their reach only continued to grow with time as they rescued more and more Fremen from Harkonen clutches.

Harkonen had begun bombing Sietches, and so their contacts also allowed them to warn a Sietch about an impending attack. Inzal had somehow set up mobile transmitters, smaller ones that hovered in the air discreetly, avoiding storms, allowing him to effectively establish a communication network that span nearly all of Arrakis.

It was the first of its kind, and its intricacies and secrets were only known to her. They would warn a sietch of an impending attack, allowing them to escape, or they would divert the attack by launching an offensive of their own.

It was hard work, and they had lost men to the cause, hundreds, yet for every man they lost, they took nearly a hundred Harkonen scum.

Jamis and his men had just returned from a small raid. The initial group was still the only amongst their members proficient in the use of the ODM gear, and even then, none of them came close to Inzal with his proficiency, who was a demon with that thing and tore through Harkonen's men as if a speed demon.

Yet, it came at a cost.

And as she stood outside Inzal's solar, she steadied her heart for that very cost.

She opened the door and entered his solar. She was the only person other than him who had a key to this room, which was basically their base of operations.

It was larger than any other room in the Sietch, almost half the size of a Hall.

A massive map of Arrakis spread across the wall, with a table infront of it. A small globe was placed at the center of the table, with small lights gleaming on it, rotating, moving slowly, in a pattern that would seem random at first glance. Still, only she knew that this was a map detailing storms, the small transmitter satellites, and all major transport vessels on Arrakis.

And as her eyes landed on Inzal, her heart broke as he sat there in the corner, pale and sweaty, huffing as he clutched his head, small grunts escaping his lips.

Her feet carried him to his side quickly as pain gripped her heart. She plopped down by his side and held his hands as she slowly raised his head.

"Jamis and his group made it back. The mission was a success. We secured the whole cargo," she reported, even though she knew that he was already aware of that.

"Good, agh," he grunted in pain as he tried to stand, yet he stumbled, yet she did not let him fall.

She would never. It was a promise she had made the first time she had seen him like this.

Inzal had many who supported him and many who loved him for his actions. Yet few knew at what cost they came.

It had taken her some time to understand his powers. The ability to see through space and beyond distances was a miracle; many would call it a gift. Yet it was a curse, for the human mind could only ever process a certain amount of information, and the information he had to compute at a moment was insane.

It would have killed anyone, yet he persisted. He continued to torture himself for them. For their cause, and so she would support him. She would never let him fall. Even at her own cost, it was the only thing she could do.

"Shhh, just relax. Just relax," she tried to calm him down as she buried his head in her bosom, as she closed off his ears, inching her own face closer to them as she began to hum.

It was a lullaby, one he had sung to her often as a child. Foreign to her, yet it would calm him down as she focused his senses back on the acute surroundings, giving him a focus to concentrate his thoughts.

And so, he would fall asleep in her arms, a grimace on his face for the pains yet haunted his sleep.

She would rest his head on her lap, loosen his suit as she allowed him some respite, her eyes now glancing towards the papers strewn across the room.

For two years, they had been targeting Harkonen supplies, ships, ornithopters, water, food, medicine and much more. They had stolen much from them, most of all was technology.

They targeted their bigger vessels and cut them into smaller parts before transporting them back to their bases, leaving traces of a worm attack to mislead the Harkonnens.

It was hard work, dangerous work. Yet Inzal had called it a necessity, and today's mission was supposedly the last one. According to him, they finally had enough.

For what? Even she knew not...

0000

A/N: This is the final chapter with timeline shifts after this the story becomes linear.

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