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Ok... I see nothing moves 'round here...

Create your own tribe, or faction. The action takes place after House Atreides was defeated by betrayal. The difference is that Paul, Jessica and Gurney left for Caladan. Idaho is dead. Kynes is dead.

You can choose between: Fremen, Smugglers, Atreides remnants, Harkonnen autonomus units, Arrakis small house. Also state your base's name and location. You can't attack directly such a capital base. They are too well defended.

I'll be Carth Bindar. Smuggler. Base: The Vulture's Den. Location: North of Arrakeen, in the Barrier wall, facing the desert. Some small tunnels lead to the great plateau. About 500 men. 1 surface-to-orbit ship. 2 trikes, 1 quad.


The thread shall start tomorrow woth or without me, if at least 4 people submit.

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ok, I'll be the Minor House of Huahin.

The Minor House of Huahin is at the current moment without a permanent base and is residing in Arrakeen.  It is lead by the Archduke Chris.  He is supported by a small but elite cadre of bodyguards who number no more than 500.  He wants to return to his  home planet of Huahin VI but the Harkonnens now have control over it.

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Yoy! A new thread! :)

When the Harkonnens left, they concealed many stockpiles around Arrakis, figuring that once the Atreides were dealt with they would be ready and waiting for a return. It was cheaper than moving them. Most of these stockpiles have been found or lost, now, but one of them fell into the hands of a minor Harkonnen noble; a distant relative of the Baron (very distant). He used it to build an underground base of power, hiring directly from the Harkonnen military.

This Harkonnen died under suspicious circumstances recently, and the remains of the stockpile, as well as the defences around them, are now in the hands of his widow and her brother.

This minor Harkonnen branch has about one hundred full time fighters, with an extra elite branch of eleven, making 111 in total. They also have contacts throughout Carthag, where they are based, owning several warehouses. Their power base is small, but building on a city that still has some Harkonnen sympathies. Unlike Arukeen.

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hey ill join i guess. im not suppose to be on the computer but ill sneak on and play along ;D. 

um i guess ill be Hark Timron fremen sietch leader of the Diagu tribe.

are sietch is located near a spice field were harkonnens are.  200 soldiers with 3 quads 4 trikes 1 stolen harkonnen orthothopter

did i do it right? u guys are gonna kinda have to help me if thats alright

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Ok, let's start.... sorry for leting you wait.

Wondering on the strrets of Arrakeen, Carth is evaluating the situation: the Atreides are gone, now there will be a period of unrest. And that can be exploited. He has to get to the Guild Building, to contact his men over there, then off to the CHOAM building to contact his moles there, and then try to make or remake some old contact with the small houses, the fremen, or the harkonnen. All will need weapons. Or something.

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The following is an excerpt of the diary of Colonel Fharim Odreck, Atreides Honor Guard.

It's been two days since the attack on Arrakeen. I and many other survivors have since then fled, marching into the rocky desert beyond the Shield Wall. There are 134 of us right now, but many have shrapnel wounds from artillery fire. What terrible weapons! A lot of them aren't going to make it. We don't know the disposition of the other troops, if there still are any. Right now we've got to lay low and wait for things to play out.

Day 4

We've been on the run for days now.

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When Carth reached the safety of his base, one of his men aproached him.

- Hey, Carth, d'you know 'bout Feydar?

- No, what happened?

- Some marauders took him and his men out.

- So? Feydar was competition. And a bastard. No big loss.

- Well? If they come for us too?

- Don't worry 'bout that. Try to contact these guys over there. See what they're up to. If they still have Faydar's minings equipment, tell them I'm willing to intermediate them to the Guild for 5% of their revenues on this. You can haggle down to 3%. Not less, d'you hear?

- Yeah...

- Now go.

Quite a productive day: contacts re-established with both the Guild and the CHOAM. But no small Houses could be contacted. Ehh... Time is patient. The sun set over the Imperial Basin. That was a site: a huge red desert, with a firery red-orange sky and a huge dieing sun. The harsh beauty of the desert...

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Fair enough. The rest of you people, start posting!

"What do you think?"

Fharim Odreck looked at the message handed to him by Luke Wilson, his second in command. Another smuggler band who didn't seem to mourn over the loss of their competitors offered to sell spice for them to the Guild, in return for 5% of the profit.

"It sounds like a reasonable offer. Since the Guild hasn't responded to any of our attempts to contact them, we don't have much choice at this moment. Tell these people that we'll accept if they drop their demand to 4%. Meanwhile we'll keep trying to establish a direct trade deal with the Guild."

"Aye sir."

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A coutier entered the command room:

- Hey, Carth, those guys answered, they agree to 4%.

- Good enoungh.

- One more thing man.

- What?

- They are Atreides. Leftovers from Arrakeen I suppose.

- So they are mining spice to get out of Dune, then? Let's wait and see... I'd love to get my hand on that equipment.

- Why don't we attack? No one would notice.

- The Atreides behaved good while they were here. And their Duke was a brave man. They deserve better than their throats slit.

- Have you been dirnking Carth?

- HA HA HA!! No, man... but one can acknoledge the value of another man, no?

- I suppose so...

- Now, send someone there with a quad to make contact. I'll want to meet the commander soon. Invite him here, ok?

- Yeah... Ok, I'm gone, then...

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The room was small and dingy, lit by a single glowglobe that was tuned to a low light. It stank of old blood and various other bodily fluids, which were spread across the walls and ceiling in dull, coloured patterns. One of the prisoners was attempting to scratch his name into the walls, the quiet scratching of his fingernails being the only sound in the room besides the harsh breathing of the five men and two women chained to the floor.

The sound of a door opening on the other side of the walls. The sound of a key turning in a lock of ancient design. The non-sound of a section of wall sliding silently aside and the clicking noise of a pair of shoes walking slowly into the room. Three dark figures framed in the light of a doorway that wasn't there a moment ago.

"Morning, sweeties." A woman's voice, charming and seductive. Strikes terror into every heart. "Now, how are we this morning? Pained? Starving? Bruised, bleeding, and otherwise mained? Good." Voice turns harsh. "Now, which of you desert scum is going to tell me what I want to know?"

Silence. The scratching on the walls has stopped.

"I've been keeping you here for too long, now. This is becoming tiresome." Shadowy movement, another figure moves away from the other two. Scuffling, a whimper. A loud crack, followed by a scream. Screams muffled, whimpering and sobbing emanate from one corner of the room.

"Let's try something new, shall we?" Woman's voice continues. "Every time I ask a question and don't get an answer, another arm will be broken. Then a leg. Then we'll move on to fingers and toes. And if after that you still don't want to talk to me, then we'll have to move on to the real punishment. Do I make myself clear?" Voice icy. No sound but continued whimpering. "Very well."

Another crack, another scream. Pause. Another crack, a hiss of pain. A crunching noise, a wail. "Oops, this one's already been done." A male voice. Laughter from the female.

"Wait! I'll talk! I'll talk!" Desperation, fear. Anguish. A quick movement, the sound of chains moving.

"Well?" The female voice. "Where is my melange?"

"Fremen, Fremen took it..." Gasping, gulping. Terror. Other prisoners protests silenced. "Stored in houses, to south. Leaving Carthag tonight."

"Which houses?" Female voice close to the floor, bending down to prisoner's level.

"Street with... blue flags." Gasped. "All houses." Slight intake of breath, the woman surprised. "Please... let me go. I have family, a son..."

"You won't when we get out of here, Elum." Another prisoner. A scuffle, a crack. A scream.

"Kill them all." Woman's orders. Protests and screams fade as two figures leave the room, the third beginning his work. Sound of gurgling as wall slides shut again.

"Well, that was certainly more effective." Ekaterina Harkonnen smirked to herself, musing on the muffled sounds of killing that she could still hear through the walls. "Have the guard out there in preparation for nightfall, I want to catch them in the act this time."

"Yes, Madame." The skeletal man beside her mentally noted, pursing his sapho-stained lips in an ugly expression. Ekaterina raised a delicate eyebrow as she led the way back into the house proper, opening doors that any could enter but few could leave.

"You will get your turn later, Fyodor." She reprimanded the twisted mentat, whose face returned to an expressionless calm.

"As you wish, Madame." He intoned.

"I do. And tell my brother that I want him to lead the raid tonight. He's been getting underfoot lately, some outside work will do him some good."

"Yes, Madame."

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( Uhh.. Dante, you created a "hard bitch"...  ;D )

Carth was driving around in Arrakeen looking for the garage of a friend to buy some spare parts when he received an encoded message on his Data Pad:

"Hiennas roaming. Go to hole."

- What? The "hole"? Arrakeen spaceport? What for? There's Gird... what does he want?

Carth turned the car violently and speeded towards the Arrakeen spaceport.

"Hiennas are Harkonnen! What is going on?"

After 15 min he reaches the spaceport building where Gird is working, his connection.

- Hey, Gird, old bastard! Whassup?

- I just heard of a raid being planned by the harks in Chartag tonight. Some fremen stole their spice. And they want to get it back.

- Really?... What would you do?

- Me?! Oh, no! Not me, friend... I'm not getting myself involved in this!

- Ha! Gird! You aldready did that! COme, tell me... location.

- It's an eastern street with blue falgs.

- Time.

- Tonight...

- Time.

- Really man, I dunno... some drunk hark trooper threw this up in the tavern today. He said he had to dispose of some mutilated bodies and overheard this.

- YOU IDIOT! What's the first rule of info gathering?!

- Never tell my sources! Damn!

- And you think I'm gonna get involved in this shit? Those are harkonnen, they rule this planet, Gird...

- Yeah, I know...

- Here's yer dough for the intel, man, thanx... I think I know what to do...

- Bye, Carth, take care.

Carth jumps into his trike and speeds towards his den. Afetr 45 min he sends courier to the Atreides marauders:

[hide]Wanna kill some Harks. Head towards this location tonight. They wanna make a raid to take back some spice. They won't expect resistance. If you make it, I'll expect 10% of what you captured. If you want I can lend you some men. Then I'll take 25%. Wtha d'you say?[/hide]

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Early evening. One of the moons peeking over the horizon, the sun just dipping below the Shield Wall. A study illuminated with red glowglobes. Large sheets of spice paper, confiscated maps. A massive map of the city, brightly illuminated, covering one wall. Five figures standing in front of it.

"Fortunately, there are no legal issues this time." Ekaterina Harkonnen flashed a perfect smile to the four men with her. "The melange in question is ours by right, and was stolen from us by Fremen raiders. We do not have any need to cover our tracks, and the population of the city will not involve themselves, correct?" She directed a piercing stare in the direction of Fyodor, who nodded calmly.

"Carthag has been a Harkonnen city and a Harkonnen stronghold for a very long time." He articulated, his jaw moving in odd directions as he spoke. "We will be able to do as we wish, at least until the Baron returns."

"Good." Ekaterina smirked. "I have been informed that the street in question will have no Freman guards, and only a small guard will be present to pick up the spice. This has necessitated a change in plans. We will not wait for the Fremen to show up, we will attack as soon as this meeting is finished. That way we have only civilians to deal with. I want forty men to deal with this, and three specialists to spearhead. Aleksandr," she turned to the nervous young man who was doing his best not to fidget, "I want you to direct the assault."

"W- M-me?" Aleksandr jumped. Ekaterina sighed, and rolled her eyes. Her brother was feeling scatterbrained.

"Yes, you." She snarled, her eyes flashing dangerously. "I want you to go there and direct the attack on the street. You two," she turned to the other two men in the room, "Choose the people who will make the biggest mark. I want the sadists out on this one. Let the population know that harbouring and concealing these criminals will not be tolerated."

"Yes'm." The two men chorused.

"Good. Dismissed." Ekaterina held up a hand to Aleksandr as he started to leave with the others. "Wait, brother." She stepped slowly toward him, towering over Aleksandr's slightly shorter frame. Her brother seemed to cower slightly, and she slapped him. "This mission will be a success, Aleksandr!" Ekaterina shouted, raising her hand again, "I do not want any excuses, any mistakes. I want wholesale slaughter, is that clear?!"

"Y- Yes'm." Aleksander whimpered, shuffling backwards, eyes wide. Ekaterina sneered in disgust, and waved him away. Returning to her desk, she glared out at the Imperial Basin.

'This could have been mine...' she glowered.

* * *

Late evening. The attack not scheduled to commence for another two hours. The street still crowded with civilians; water sellers and families. The occasional blue-tinted visage of a desert dweller.

It begins with screams. Shouts of warning as the first civilians run around the corner, calling of the danger behind them. The families make for the alleys and passages, the shopkeeperes begin to close up immediately. This is an all too familiar practice. As the first Harkonnen insignia is glimpsed around the corner, the street erupts into panic and chaos, mothers seperated from their children, the slow and the clumsy trampled underfoot as the crowd surges toward the other end of the street. More screams, and the crowd turns back on itself, killing more in the crush as more soldiers appear at the opposite end of the street. Each fully armed, some carrying an inkvine whip as well, they lay into the crowd. Behind them, quietly, come the slaves and retainers, moving quickly into the houses and tearing them apart. The blue flags flutter.

* * *

"Progress reports smooth proceedings." Fyodor recites carefully. "Aleksandr is performing... competantly." Ekaterina looked surprised for a moment, before covering it up with a politician's impasse.

"I must admit, I had expected him to quail at the very thought of this mission..." She mused, remembering Aleksandr's horror-struck face when she had told him the fate of their captives. "Perhaps your 'lessons' are finally beginning to have an effect, Fyodor." She half smiled. The mentat remaine expressionless.

"Perhaps." He intoned. Smoke rose from the city behind him.

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Carth was overlooking the slaughter from a safe distance with some binoculars, toghether with some 14 men. No answer from the Atreides.

"Darn! Some spice... lost. Not much, but stil..."

- Carth, they're slaughtering the civilians!

- So? You wanna get killed too? For what? D'you know someone there?

- No.

- I know! Free violence. Unneeded violence. I hate that too, but they OWN this planet. The Atreides failed against them. And the Atreides were honorable and just.

- And the harks have the emperor's support. someone said.

- Really? Where d'you know that from? someone else asked.

- Well.. a friend of mine recognised a sardaukar at the battle at Arrakeen.

The men started to chat louder.

- Shh! Quiet! Get down! Air patrol!

All 15 men hide behind the walls or under the scarce furniture in the room.

- Ok, it's gone. There's nothing more to do. Let's get out of here.

After 3 hours the party safely reached the Den.

"I'll have to move faster. I need a harvester. And some agreement with the fremens."

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