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Dune-House Wars


christrox316

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And so the battle begins...

Everybody starts out at the last meeting of the Landsraad, right after the death of the Emperor has been announced, and where you guide your House from there is your business.

Will you make alliances to get to the top?

Or will you try to batter your way up there?

and once you get there...how long can you hold it?

Let House Wars begin!

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Baroness Selene Dragonis walked out the Landsraad Hall smiling. According to the Guild the Golden Lion Throne was open for whatever House took it. As she sat and thought a little she realised that her House might not have enough resources to take it. She began thinking about how to get more resources when her mentat, Bors, walked up behind her, silent as a ghost.

Selene stopped walking and stared straight ahead of her.

"I thought that you might hae been faster Bors."

Bors sighed, he could out-think a computer but he couldn't sneak worth anything.

"I'm sorry it took so long my lady. The Black Guard were not...pleased with what we had to do and so we took longer than anticipated getting back."

Selene turned around and looked him in the eyes with a glare colder than her capital and spoke softly, the way she did when she was getting agitated.

"The Black Guard do not argue, disagree or hesitate when it comes to fulfilling the orders that I give them. I know this quite well. Each of them is attached to me. They cannot disobey me. That and I know that their transport got back long ago. So why you took so long getting here I do not understand. You are a bad mentat and if you were not my brother then I would not have you around at all. I am not surprised the Mentats expelled you from the school."

Bors dropped back and was silent for awhile, as they walked to their waiting shuttle.

"Tell me Bors, how far away is House Crusado?"

Bors gave her a quizzical look.

"On the ice planet Valhala? The next system over my lady...why?"

Selene smiled.

"I think that the newest addition to my elite regiments, the Death Guardians, are in need of some...field testing. Lead them to Valhala and conquer it. Then the vendetta between our two Houses will be over and done with!"


Over Valhala...

In the skies over Valhala orbited a single gargantuan ship. The ship, the size of a city, began to disgorge thousands of drop pods, aimed at the surface of the planet below. As each pod impacted the surface a man in power armor (looks like the Space Marine Terminators from Warhammer 40k) jumps out and starts firing on the House Crusado soldiers.

Three days later...

Bors stood on the command deck of his flagship, and only ship, and cackled. The planet had fallen after three bloody days of fighting and a vendetta between Houses was over. Bors laughed again and again, perhaps all of the manuvering and planning he had done for years would come to fruition.

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    Atticus's face was smug as he left the Landsraad Chambers, flanked by several of his soldiers and his personal bodyguard, the Spymaster Demosthenes. Giggling, he exclaimed joyously, "Oh, what fun! The Emperor's death opens up a plethora of new chances! Of new ideas! Of new profits! A whole new frontier!" Composing himself, Atticus, still with the sly smile on his face, strode briskly down the hallway. He did not fear anyone, not the Sardaukar, not the prospect of being killed. Why should he? After all, he was only a ghola, living to serve. Nobody knew of this save the real Atticus Turin and his Mentat. They were both careful men, and had decided, instead of sending a representative to gatherings and meetings and conferences(Who would not have had such an effect), to send a ghola of the Count. Indistinguishable from the real Count in both looks and mind, incapable of subversion - perfect. Once he reported this to the Count, he would be rewarded lavishly, and then put into cryo-storage, until the next time he was to be used. The ghola was still smiling as the group got back onto their transport, which drifted slowly up to the waiting Heighliner above Kaitain.

Back on Cocytus, 4 days later.

Count Atticus Turin - the real Atticus Turin - stared out the window at the frozen ocean that was his world. It wasn't a cold world as much as it was pure ice. Miles and miles of smooth ice, stretching off into the darkness that enveloped the world even during the daytime, featureless except for other large rocky, mountain-like outcroppings, where other communities were based.  No snow, at all. There was no moisture to freeze over and turn into snow - everything that could freeze over already had. Icy wind broke again and again against the windows. They were heated, so as to prevent them freezing over, too. The price to pay for this was that they were continuously wet and them image distorted. Atticus didn't care; he wanted to see his empire. His office - the room he was standing in now - had a curious style to it. It was at the very tip of the mountain. The walls were not evened out, they were rough and untouched. Only the floor, ceiling, and the wall facing the door(The wall, which had ben converted into the large window) were smooth and straight. A fogwood desk was placed facing the door. Right behind it was a plush chair. A chandalier hung down form the ceiling in the middle of the room, brightly illuminating the office. On his desk stood a computer; well within the legal boundaries, for it did only the tasks you requested it to to and was too stupid to do anything else. It was this computer that now beeped, and a holographic screen popped up, shimmering slightly. Atticus turned his attention away from the vast, icy expanse, and sat down at his desk. Reading the message, he gave a chuckle and shook his head. The Great House Dragonis had, it seemed, conquered Minor House Crusado.

After only three days of fighting? Atticus though sceptically. The people of Crusado were known for their fierceness in battle and almost universal strongly patriotic feelings

No, this is not the end. I suspect House Dragonis will get a much more drawn-out conflict that they had hoped for.

Standing up, Atticus took his mug of spice coffee and took a sip, plotting and scheming. House Crusado and his own House were close neigbours, albeit not friendly ones. This was good. What if he were, to say, invite the Baroness for discussions on the future relationships between the two Houses, plant a bomb into his ghola, and send it off to its - and her - doom? After that, he could lay low for a while and then make a spectacular comeback, his body clad in showy - but fake - cybernetic parts, and claim he had survived the blast, vowing to catch those responsible.

And then he would take over. Both House Dragonis and the late House Crusado would be under his control. He would give Crusado back to its inhabitants out of goodwill(And ask only for a small tribute each year and allegiance to his House) and then quietly, slowly, and surely start deporting the more active citizens of House Dragonis.

Atticus smiled. He liked this plan. The logistics would have to be worked out, and there was always the chance that they would not believe his claim of surviving the blast - leading, most likely to a bloody war - but they were dumb, barbaric people, shooting first and asking questions later, pumping their soldiers up on steroids and bodily-enhancing drugs while ignorant of the negative effects these drugs had on the men. Atticus detested these kinds of people.

He took another sip of his spice coffee.

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Selene sat on her throne in thought and, kneeling in front of her, was her brother, Bors, and another man in chains, Duke Jon Crusado, of the fallen House Crusado. Selene smiled as the solution to her problem came to her.

"Jon, I will refrain from using titles in here, how are you doing?"

Jon looked up at her in confusion.

"How am I doing? You Dragonis's don't ask that ever! What are you playing at Selene?"

"I am playing at nothing. I simply would like to know if you want to be set free and sent back to Valhala."

Bors's mouth dropped open when she said this, as did Jon's. This was a move unheard of in the history of the Dragonis family. House Dragonis and House Crusado had been at war for twenty generations. In all that time not one nice word was passed between them.

"Why would you free me? I am your enemy!"

At this Selene laughed.

"My enemy? We have fought for so long that we have forgotten why we have fought. But I looked into it before the death of the Emperor. Houses Dragonis and Crusado have been at war because of...a girl."

"A girl? You expect me to believe that? Two Great Houses fighting for centuries because of a girl?"

Selene snapped her fingers and a woman walked in carrying a large book, which she placed on the floor in front of Jon.

"Read it."

The cover read History of the Dragonis/Crusado Feud, by Irulan Corrino.

Sceptical he opened it up to the first few pages and began to read and as he did his eyes began to grow wide in astonishment. He looked up at Selene in awe.

"This is true?"

"You think I would make this up?"

"But that would mean-"

"Yes, Houses Dragonis and Crusado are the same House. The feud was started by arguing brothers over a girl that both wanted to marry. One of the brothers ran off to Valhala and formed House Crusado while the other formed House Dragonis."

Jon sat still for a long while and then he spoke.

"So why the attack?"

Selene looked him straight in the eyes.

"How else would I have gotten you here? We both know you would have ignored an invitation and would have taken it as an insult. That is why I had Bors attack your capital city and infiltrate your palace. I wanted you here so that I could tell you that I want the war between us to end."

Jon looked at her.

"How do you expect to do that may I ask?"

Selene took a deep breath before speaking again.

"By having my son, Draco, marry your daughter, Saphira."

Jon smiled at this.

"Smart move. And at the end of our reigns turn control of both Houses over to them. Smart, very smart. Done."

Selene waved her hand and the guards removed Jon's chains. He stood up, rubbing his wrists.

"When do you want the wedding to take place?"

"As soon as possible."

As Jon left to go back to Valhala, Bors stayed kneeling.

How dare she do that to me! I have worked too hard to have this blow up in my face now! Too damn hard! But if the plan needs to wait a few more years then so be it! That throne will be mine!

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King Austril Silverius slowly paced out of the Landsraad Hall with his mentat/saboteur Augustus,  eyes cast down on the floor as he walked into the exit of the great structure. "With the Golden Lion Throne available for any House who had the power to take it, there would be another war in the universe," he said to his mentat as they stared at the huge open doors. Full of possibilities for the young king, make friends with other Houses then fill up their homes with bombs or destroy any House who crossed his path just like what his father did in order to attain the rightful name of Great House Silverius.  He shrugged and walked out of the structure and into the huge Guild Heighliner waiting for him, taking him back to Vitrus.

Seven hours later:

Austril sank into his bed exhausted from the long journey. His mentat waited in the Grand Hallway for his presence but he decided to take a nap first. Many citizens requested his majesty's presence for complains, suggestions, and blessings but he is not in the mood after formulating a plan for the Throne. He peered outside and watched as his sappers planted incindenary mines in his private forests, cleverly hidden from sight and activated by a sensitive tripwire, causing huge explosions that would leave the would-be infiltrator and the forests destroyed. Austril learned from his father the lesson of "last resort" where there must always be a last resort in everything. Austril considered the traps but not the last resort of placing explosives in his robe. He stretched and stood up, lost his appetite for sleeping and walked out of his room with a firm smile on his face, a smile that obviously tells that he now had a grand plan in his mind...

He also remembered another lesson: trust no one. 

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In the northern part of C2 on Malebolge, on the southern fringe of a great, stretching moor, lay the Church of Truth. It was an old, forgotten place, in its glory days a place learning, a holy place and library. now the House had occupied it to protect the integrity and safety of the House. More specifically, it was a torture chamber. On quiet nights, you might only hear the hums and whirs of the machinery as it operated. On the louder ones, screams slashed through the silence regularly.

All of this was headed by a man known only as Reks. His subordinates called him Sir Reks, and anyone else who knew of him - and that was a verry small number - referred to him as the Head of the Truth Division. H.O.T.D for short. It was now that the H.O.T.D. was interrogating a suspected spy sent by House Crusado. The man's fingernails were gone, but he had not broken down yet. This indicated that he was a bit more well-trained than other spies. Reks was rubbing down the man's nose with sandpaper.

"Tell me, please," he hissed in a not-so-nice way,"Who sent you and for what purpose did they send you here?"

The man drew in his breath sharply as the sandpaper reached the bone. He had been injected with a drug that clotted the blood; bleeding stopped very quickly. He was going to die from the moment the drug entered his bloodstream, since his arteries would finally block up and the heart would not receive enough blood, but nobody lived after being taken to be interrogated to the Church of Truth anyway. "I don't know what you mean," the man gasped through clenched teeth."Please - Let me go!" Reks sighed and threw the sandpaper in the wastebasket. He looked behind him to the roaring furnace, from which were sticking out the handling ends of several pokers. On his face was an expression akin to that of a person who is trying to decide something. Finally he stood up and with a sigh walked away from the bruised and bloody suspect. This was going to be a nasty job, and he wasn't doing it. He walked over to a large panel with all sorts of electronics on it; readouts, monitors, intercoms and so on and so forth. Pressing a small grey button, he spoke into a hole.

"Kalthymos, get down here."

"Yes, Sir Reks," came the fuzzy reply from the same hole. Moments later, a lift began to descend from the one and only tower of the church, Kalthymos's post. There he looked out for any approaching aircraft and opened and close the large, steel double doors that were the only entrance to the church. All of the stained glass windows had been smashed out and replaced with plexiglass, and then further reinforced by criss-crossing steel bars. The lift slowly stopped, and the doors opened. A tall man, with an artificial Tleilaxu eye and a large, red beard and long red hair, stepped out of the lift. He wore a leather tunic and his exposed arms were covered in burns and tattoos. Standard issue army pants were tucked into shiny black boots.

"Yes, Sir?" Kalthymos grunted. Reks vaguely motioned with his hand towards the direction of the furnace.

"The poker and the furnace - you know what to do." Kalthymos nodded, but it looked as if he had bitten off a chunk of a lemon. Reks turned away, and a few moments later heard the suspect utter a high-pitched squeal as a meter-long red hot poker buried itself deep in his rectum. Reks walked back to the man, and hissed in his ear,"I'll keep doing this over and over again until you tell me what I want to know." This method usually got the suspects talking. If they still proclaimed their innocence after 10 thrusts of the poker, they were innocent. They were killed either way, though. The man vomited and started blubbering.

"N-no, pl-please don't! I was s-s-sent here t-to spy on...To spy o-on..." Here he paused, as if unsure to go on. Reks grabbed him by the hair and pulled. Hard. A good chunk of hair came out. The man started crying, and continued.

"T-the Duke sent me here to spy on your industrial facilities and sabotage them!" He yelled out quickly, as if that would lessen the pain. Reks stood up straight, and smiled evilly.

"Thank you for the information. Is there anything else I need to know?" He asked sweetly.

"The..the code word...it's 'Valhala the glorious'. Please - spare me!"

Reks grinned broadly. "Nope. Sorry!" Pulling out a pistol, he shot the man once in the stomach. It would be at least 20 minutes before the man died, in horrible pain as hydrochloric acid leaked out of his stomach and onto the other organs. The man screamed, and then degenerated into wimpering. Looking out of a large, reinforced window, Reks sighed and smiled contentedly. Thunderclouds rumbled overhead and flashes of lightning illuminated the sky.

"Isn't it a glorious day, Kalthymos?"

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Selene sat onboard the Dragon's Pride, her main command flagship. It was one of the largest ships in the Dragonis fleet. Not only was it the largest ship but it was also the most powerful and home to the Black Guard, her elite units. The Black Guard were the most powerful soldiers in the army. Even though many had said that their performance was due to "steroids and performance-enhancing drugs." It was due to their training and their powerful armor and weaponry. And the Black Guard had the most advanced weapons and armor.

As she gazed out at the fleet, as it prepared to move out, she noticed something. Her brother's flagship was acting strange. it began to drift farther from the rest of the fleet. She looked closer and realised that not only was her brother's ship moving but so where the ships near it. She signaled to her comm officer to open a channel.

"Bors, what are you doing? Your ships are drifting away from the main-"

Her words were cut off as an explosion rippled through the deck.

"Status report!"

Her exec spoke up.

"Direct hit maam! Main weapons generators have been hit and knocked offline. Engine power down to 65%."

"What hit us?"

"Bors shot us your ladyship."

She was in shock. Her own brother had fired upon her!

"Bors! what is the meaning of this?!"

Her brother's voice broke through loud and clear.

"I have been under your rule far too long! As of this moment Tigra and Tako are following me and we declare independence from you!"

As he finished talking his ships began to move towards her, gun ports glowing.

She stood in shock trying to take it all in.

Suddenly she came to a descision.

"All Black Guard units to their Pods and Dropships. And once they get there drop them and get them out of here. Then ram my brother's ship."

As the drop indicators all turned green, meaning that they had all dropped, Selene looked forward and watched her brother begin to destroy her ship.


The Dragon's Pride burst into flame as all the decks burned. The ship's engines died but the sheer inertia of the vessel collided with Bors' flagship, clipping the engines and driving itself into a moon.


Meanwhile...

On Frezo Draco Dragonis and Saphira Crusado were wed and Draco declared Baron. As he sat on the throne the leader of the Black guards came up to him and pledged the loyalty of the Black Guards to his rule. Draco snapped and his advisors brought in maps and holos and he began to plan the retaking of Tigra and Tako.

Bors and the planets Tigra and Tako are now independent. But they are also heavily defended still.

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OOC: I assumed the Baroness's ship was fired upon over Valhala. Correct me if I'm wrong.

"They really are barbarians, aren't they, Monk?" Atticus was sitting at his fogwood desk, watching the latest footage from above Valhala. In front of him stood his Mentat, Malcus Monk.

"What have they done now, Atticus?" Monk enquired of his master. They were on a first-name basis.

"The Baroness's flagship, the, ah - Dragon's Pride - has been fired upon..." Here Atticus smiled condescendingly, as you do when talking to a naive child.

"Atticus?" Monk asked. Atticus looked up, and chuckled.

"It seems the Baroness's flagship has been fired upon by her own brother. What's more, he is her Mentat! Oh, this is too good." Here Atticus chuckled again.

Monk smiled, scratched his chin, and asked, "Oh, I know of him. He got expelled from the Mentat School, apparently for abuse of computers. Essentially, he was lazy and too stupid to be a Mentat. Should we go on the offensive and take both of them down in one fell swoop?" Atticus shook his head.

"No. We wait until one is defeated, and the other severly weakened. Then we move in. In the meantime, I want more combat craft produced. Also, give my Head Engineer the order to equip the ships we currently have with anti-capital ship rounds. The Baroness takes her flagships seriously, and if she comes out victorious in this, her new flagship - if she can build one in time, that is - could be a thorn in our operations." Atticus looked up at Monk with an evil glint in his eye. "After all, she can't very well fight us if the crews of her ships are dead of asphyxiation. One little hole, is all that it takes, and a whole section can lose its oxygen. Oh, move several ships - I am leaving it up to you which ones - to Malebolge. Tell anyone that asks that they are there in case any of the fighting wanders into our sector."

Monk bowed.

"Of course, Atticus, I will relay your orders right away."

Atticus took a drag from his spice coffee.

"Oh, and call up a part of the reserves here and on Malebolge, and train them properly. I don't want to be unprepared if a land invasion takes place."

"Of course, m'lord," Monk said and bowed out of the room.

Atticus took another sip from his spice coffee and lit his waterpipe.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Draco walked on the balcony looking over the Ice Sea, next to his citadel, and let out a small, steamed, sigh. things were do hard now. His mother was gone, presumed dead when her ship exploded. His uncle, was leading a rebellion. The other Great Houses were preparing to attack and destroy each other.

Suddenly he realised something.

He called in the leader of the Black Guard and told him what to do.

And the leader smiled.


Over Tigra...

In orbit over Tigra a large commercial transport started to orbit near one of the renegade ships. The crew of the renegade cruiser could only stare and laugh at the pathetically small vessel that was floating alongside them. Suddenly the side of the transport exploded and thousands of battle barges launched themselves deep into the cruiser. The crew had barely begun to act when the Black Guard began attacking them. The crew were given a sense of hope when the Death Guardians, Bors elite troops, came to the fray and started fighting, and pushed the Black Guard into the hanger. They seemed to be on the verge of victory when several cargo pods from the "transport" landed and disgorged their contents. Out walked mammoth machines, controlled by the men inside them, that began to cut down the Death Guardians. On one arm was a massive chain gun and the other was a servo claw, built to crush durracrete, and perfectly capable of crushing a man or snapping him in half. And these weapons were put to good use as wave after wave of the Death Guardians were massacred by these walking constructs.

After three more grueling hours the ship was taken by the Black Guard and they began to bombard the surface of Tigra. If they were not their friend then they were their enemy, and enemies had to be destroyed ruthlessly.

(ooc: the machines are not like thinking machines, they are more like battlesuits because they have men inside them.)

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Hallman sat in his office on Iol. It had only been a few days but some of the houses had allready started war over the throne. Hallman had to chose well, the wrong allies could lead to planetary oblitteration.

His line of thought was interupted by a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Hallamn shouted.

The door opned fast and in darted a man. The man was under average height and not very strong, but Hallman knew better than judging Malcom C. Frica by what you could see. Malcom was fast, endurant and cynical. He had been taken in exile from Dune about a year ago. Malcom had been on a scientific Carryal studying Sandworms when they were hit by a sudden sandstorm. The Carryall had crachlanded and only Malcom had survived. They were quicly discovered by a tribe of Fremen that wanted their water. Malcom had never told how he got out of the problem, but he got out somehow.

"The Nitrogen Missile is complete Sir." Malcom reported. "Testing next week."

"Good. Send in Christian on your way out. But first, are we ready to propose our deal to the Atreides?"

"Yes Sir, but are you sure they will accept? It is a pretty... odd trade."

"I think they will accept. Give me the Capsule. I know you allways keep one one you."

Malcom handed a cylindrical capsule to Hallman.

"Nok er Sagt. Dissmised!"

Malcom left and in came Christian, the mentat.

"Take this message and give it to the Atreides. It has highest priority."

"Sir?"

"Of non-war priority!"

"Do you think they will accept the deal?"

"I think they will. Dissmissed!"

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Draco walked around his war room, looking at the different maps and displays that were present. One showed the disposition of his forces and those of his uncle. What mainly caught Draco's attention was the long list of troops that were still loyal to him. As he was reviewing this a messanger ran into the room.

"My lord Baron! My lord Baron! We just recevied a message from the Harkonnen!"

"What is it?"

"They wish to join us! Following the Arrakis Affair of long ago they are too weak to make a bid for the throne on their own. They wish to join their House with ours!"

"Send the Eclipse and the Gorgon to Giedi Prime and then deploy the Ice Ravens on the planet."

"My liege?"

"I want that planet to be ours! No second guessing or trickery!"

"Yes my liege."

Draco then turned back to his commanders.

"Progress of the attack on Tigra?"

His main commander spoke up.

"Close to 65% of the planet's vegetation has been destroyed. Over 50% of the population have radioed their intentions to rejoin us. But my liege...the planet may be in no condition to have people live there anymore."

"I know."

He stood still for a moment thinking when another man walked into the room.

"Baron Draco!"

Draco turned towards him.

"Yes?"

"DIE!"

And the man pulled out a lasgun and began firing. But Draco was faster due to his training with the Black Guards when he was younger. As the man fired Draco rolled out of the way, picked up a paperweight and threw it at him. The paperweight hit him square in the chest, knocking the wind out of him, just as a Black Guard, in full battle armor, came up behind him and picked him up and threw him to the ground. As the would be attacker lay there stunned Draco came up and looked him straight in the face.

"Who sent you?"

"I wont tell!"

"If you do not tell me then my guards will break your body one bone at a time, slowly, painfully, delightfully. Now who sent you?"

"Your uncle sent me! He said not to go back till the job was done! He wants you dead!"

Draco smiled at the man.

And the last feeling the man would have was of warm urine tracing its way down his leg just as a heavy assault rifle tore into the back of his skull.


Bors stood on the bridge of his flagship and started cursing. Tigra was all but lost to him. The jungle vegetation had been burnt away. And he had heard that the people were preparing to run back to Draco's side. He turned to his aide.

"Is Tako fully in my control still?"

"Yes sir. The people of Tako still fully support you!"

Bors looked out the viewport and the other ship in the fleet he had assembled. These arcane mammoths were dangerous. Each being twenty miles long and armed with every concievable weapon, barring atomics. The whole Dragonis fleet was like this, thats why there was so few ships in the fleet, because each took a long time and alot of resources to construct. Now there very few of them but they were still extremely powerful and EXTREMELY difficult to destory, as many pirates and invading Houses had learned. Now he would demonstrate the full power of the vessels.

"Jump to Tigra."


Over Tigra...

The Black Guard ship hung like a giant city in space, prepared to blast anything that came near. But when it detected Bors' incoming ships it poweredup its engines and flew out of orbit.

Bors' fleet, having no resistance, began to launch small bombs out of their hanger bays. These bombs impacted the planet everywhere, there were hundreds of thousands of bombs that began to lodge themselves into the planet's crust. At a signal from Bors each bomb exploded, expelling a chemical that began to freeze the planet. Everything began to cool and freeze.

After a week a world that had been known as a jungle world, hot and steamy, was now nothing more than a frozen ball hanging in space.


But the entire population had already left...

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George stoode beside Hallman in the command room. The main screen showed a week on Tigra in fast pace. The room was filled with silence cauced by the terrifying sight. George broke the silence:

"Bah! They beat us to it! A freeze bomb. One week till our Nitrogen Missile is complete and they go show of their version on a global scale. This means we must point our research in an other direction. Maybe a strong alternating current could overload the Holtzman field. Or some kind of acid or alkali."

"Let the rocket scientist continue on the missile, you have your own project to work on."

"The Cthulhu?"

"Yes, that one. I'm never able to pronounce that."

Secret message to the Atreides, who at the moment is GM-contolled, right?

We, House Dendarii would like to support House Atreides through the coming chaos. I am sure that insight to my weapons arsenal for military support and training on Arrakis would be a trade creating a win-win situation, as Arrakis is an... important planet. Your House may choose how much military support you want, and I could surely arrange a demonstration of my weapons arsenal.

OCC: I can't find the right colour code!

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Somewhere in Dragonis controlled space...

The asteroid base was a heavily kept secret. All commanders who knew the location were kept from revealing it by psychic blocks in their brain, before they revealed it their brain shut down and they died. The only one who could go to and from that location was Draco and his elite staff, who almost never left his side.

The reason for all of this high security was simple. The asteroid base was the shipyard of House Dragonis. Their commercial shipyards were everywhere but their military shipyard was one asteroid in an asteroid belt. Every asteroid surrounding was armed to the teeth and fleets had been destroyed trying to reach the shipyard. Not even the Imperial Sardaukar had been able to reach it during one of their attacks on Dragonis territory, before House Dragonis was truly formed.

But now that secret was out because Bors had all of his ships speeding towards it. Bors chuckled to himself. His nephew had thought that his shipyard would remain a secret forever, but what he hadn't anticipated was a desparate move by Bors, placing a nano-bug on one of the newest commanders, just as the secret was revealed to him.

Now Bors, and the remaining three other ships in his fleet, were on their way to destroy this base. Bors had done the calculations in his head. If one of his ships could level a planet then four should make quick work of a shipyard.

But in this he had forgotten one very important fact...

His nephew had actually completed his mentat training.

(post more later)

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[tt]Count John Charles sat in his underwater Palace, and watched the weird and wonderful animals swim by.  His Palace, as with all underwater buildings on Glevum IV, was shielded to prevent any damage, but the Count couldn't help but marvel the size of some of the creatures, who were upto 100 feet long.  However, using their advanced technology, Huahinians had kept the creatures at bay.  But with no Emperor, who would now keep the Great Houses of the Landsraad at bay?  The delicate balance had been destroyed, and anyone was now a target, House Huahin included, but not the Guild of course.  They had their ways, as everyone was still dependant on them.  The Count pondered.  Would the Guild assume control of the Imperium?  It was a question he would pose his Mentat later.

Meanwhile, in the skies above Glevum IV, giant airships filled with Ornithoptors, Javelins, and other space or aerial craft were on full alert.  Huahin was ready for a battle in space.  It was possible that the collapse of House Corrino would lead to space battles on such a scale not seen since the Butlerian Jihad.  House Huahin would pick its allies wisely.[/tt]

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OOC: Could we agree that there shall be no planet destruction of other players's planets unless the victim agrees to it?

"The brutes! The simpletons! Those idiots!" Atticus fumed and raged. The recklessness and barbarianism of Draco and Bors drove him into a rage. How could these imbeciles have gotten control of such large forces? He ran a hand through his hair and calmed himself. It didn't matter; House Cocytus would strike as soon as the civil war was over, as soon as one side was defeated and the other badly crippled from the fighting. There would be no mercy and no warning. Best let the condemned man die happy.

News had reached him of the annihilation of Tigra. Some sort of freezing device. How it worked, none knew, but one thing was sure; it brought results. Atticus was worried about this. Cocytus was perfectly safe, being an ice world already, but Malebolge, the hub of technology and industry and food was not. To counteract this he had set up thousands of hastily constructed AA platforms around Malebolge. They were not very sound, but they worked and fired, and presuming that the freezing devices were brought down in some sort of capsules they could put up, at least, a moderate defence. Atticus pressed a shiny silver button on his desk, and a minute later Monk appeared in the office.

"Yes, Atticus?"

Atticus was looking out the window.

"I want 20 of those Ixian ground-to-orbit cannons set up on Malebolge, and 5 here. Best not let those behemothic ships get close enough for orbital bombardment," he said, steepling his fingers. Monk made a sceptical face.

"My lord, those guns, as I'm sure you are aware, are exceptionally costly. How do y-"

"I don't care!" Atticus roared, flailing his arm in rage and knocking over a lamp. On the inside, Monk winced. That lamp had been quite expensive. "Extort Minor Houses, draw money out of our many slush funs, I will only feel safe when we have those guns set up!" Monk bowed, walked over to the fallen lamp, and stooped to pick it up.

"Of course, m'lord. I shall convince several Minor Houses that owe us funds to pay up," Monk said as he put the lamp back. Atticus's rage had subsided somewhat.

"Good," he said, rubbing his temple. "See to it that you do. Oh, and offer to send several of our assault cruisers to the aid of Draco. With luck, we can catch their fleet by surprise and inflict heavy losses once the battles between Draco and Bors are over."

"Very good, sir," Monk siad, bowing out of the room.

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Sitting, waiting in the asteroid belt were seven of Draco's warships. Sitting there, waiting for Bors to arrive. He had guessed his uncle's moves the moment the bug detector had gone off when his newest commander was promoted. That was why he went through with it.

In the meantime he had gathered all of his forces together to destroy his uncle.

Ships and fighters had been gathering from all over Dragonis space. All of his elite troops, the Black Guard, Death Legion, Fire Breathers, Sons of Thunder, Black Templars, Bleeding Skulls and, the only female unit, Daughters of the Dragon.

His ships were gathered together and all of his fighters were gathered there as well.

And as Bors' ships came into view, and he gave the order to fire, he felt no regret.

None at all.


Of Bors' four ships, the Manticore, Basilisk, Cobra, and his flagship, the Nemesis, the Cobra was completly destroyed from the first volley. Shells the size of houses slammed into the ship whilst concentrated lascannon beams traced their way across the ship's hull, boiling away armor plating and decks as well. Missiles impacted all along the length of the ship and within thirty seconds the quantum reactor was breached and the ship exploded. All that was left of it was a burning hulk.

The Manticore headed straight for Draco's commandship but ran into, what they initially thought was a cloud of asteroid debris.

But it actaully was a cloud of bombers.

Bombing run after bombing run skimmed the surface of the Manticore, destroying vital ship components and obliterating the hanger bays and weapons emplacments. As the cloud moved away all that was left of the Manticore was a massive piece of space debris, dead in space.

The Basilisk and the Nemesis however, were not as easy to kill.

The Basilisk made deep runs into the asteroid field, closely followed by two of Draco's ships. As it dove deeper it used its rear batteries to fire at the following enemies. It scored a lucky hit that put one out of commission and the other was blown through by an asteroid. However, as the Basilisk turned to rejoin the battle it encountered the defense network of the shipyard.

Rail launchers and asteroid based ultra cannons tracked the Basilisk and began to open fire. Round after round after round tore through the ship, gutting it from stem to stern. A true testament to its design the Basilisk absorbed an hour of this punishment before finally cracking open and exploding.

The Nemesis lost its engines first, they were shot off by Draco's command ship, but it did succeed in totaling one of Draco's wing ships. After thirty-seven hours of fighting the guns on the Nemesis went silent, and the breaching pods of the Black Guards and the Daughters of the Dragon all moved towards it. As they latched on, and the soldiers poured out, they all had one singular objective.

Capture Bors.


Bors stood on his bridge, monitoring the fighting going on throughout the ship, when a thought suddenly occured to him. Everyone that we have encountered in armor has belonged to the Black Guards, where are the Daughters at?

Just as he thought this a beautiful woman walked up right beside him,and shoved a heavy pistol in his stomach.

She turned him around and yelled to the guards by the door.

"Open the door and stop fighting or he will die!"

The Death Guardians, sensing that she was serious, opened the door, letting in the Black Guard, who proceeded to disarm each and every crew member and soldier on the bridge.

With Bors under guard the woman walked over to the com system and flipped it on.

"This is Saphira Dragonis to Draco Dragonis, the Nemesis is ours my love. What would you have me do with your uncle?"

There was a short pause before Draco responded back.

"Surprise me."

Bors started to stutter when a Black Guard clubbed him on the back of the head and hauled him off to a transport.


Three Weeks Later...

Draco sat on his throne and reviewed the latest reports he had gotten from his spies. He grumbled and called for his aide.

"Yes my baron?"

"Withdraw us from the war for the throne."

"My liege! Is that truly wise?"

"Yes it is. One can get the Golden Lion Throne by force, but one must have allies to stay upon it. And have the shipyard step up production. I don't want any of the other houses to get any bright ideas about attacking us. Are our ground-space defenses operational?"

"Yes sir, the cannons are all operational and guarded by the Black Guard."

Draco smiled.

"Good."

TO House Huahin:

[hide]The recent civil war that has ravaged Dragonis space and territory and has left us weakened. We are still a force to be rekconed with to be sure but we no longer have any dreams of the Golden Lion Throne. What I propose to you is an alliance  between our two Great Houses. We will fully support your bid for the throne if you allow us to be your right hand, grasping a sword. We will support you in any military move that you make and we will never try to usurp you or your heirs from the throne.

Yours,

Baron Draco Dragonis of Frezo, Morab, Tako, Giedi Prime and Lankiveil

[/hide]   

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[tt]As the Gorgon slipped out of the heighliner to reach Giedi Prime, a smaller, sleeker craft, as black as space itself also undocked.  It followed the two ships from House Dragonis, until they entered Harkonnen space.

Inside the Huahinian vessel, Commander Bond hailed the Dragoni ship.  The Captain of the Gorgon accepted.  The Huahinian bridge was all decked out in Harkonnen liveries, and the men were dressed in Harkonnen uniforms. Bond straightened out his Harkonnen uniform, which they had recently aquired.

"This is Captain of the Harkonnen Guard Artmus.  I demand you powerdown your engines and weapons and prepare to be boarded."

The Captain of the Gorgon looked shocked, but nevertheless complied. 

"I said, powerdown all weapons.  We still detect powered up weapons on your ship."

Commander Bond was still viewing the bridge of the Gorgon as its Captain shouted something.  Bond tried hard not to laugh. He knew that there was no active weapons that could be picked up by Harkonnen sensors, but House Dragonis must be taught a lesson in declaring their alliegance with the Harkonnens.  Bond would just pretend that the Dragoni were ignoring him.

"This is your last warning."

As panic struck the Dragoni ship, they attempted to exit Harkonnen space, but a flurry of las-gun fire quickly disabled it's engines.

"You will comply or die."

The crew of the Gorgon began to reactivate the weapons, but their sensors were offline, and they could not see the black Huahinian ship.  From the belly of the Huahinian ship, a captured Harkonnen patrol ship appeared.  Unmanned, it would drift out to a safe distance, then explode.  A quick volley of las-guns was fired at the patrol ship, and it exploded, and as it did, the crew of the Gorgon cheered.  They thought they'd won. 

Commander Bond piloted his ship back to a safe distance, and made for a nearby planet, where it would be picked up by the routine heighliners.


[tt]Back at Glevum IV, they received the message from House Dragonis.  Count John Charles chuckled to himself, as he had already read the report of Commander Bond's mission.  Nevertheless, he would have to keep up a cordial front.

Message to House Dragonis:

[hide]

We are honoured by such an invitation, but unfortunately we must refuse.  We would not be able to tolerate your dealings with the Harkonnens.  These men are not men or honour, and you cannot trust their word.  Maybe for your own protection you should reconsider your own alliance with them, for who knows where Harkonnen interests truly lie?

[/hide]

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Draco was angry, angrier than he had ever been before. His aides all scattered before his wrath. Not even his loving wife, Saphira, could qwell his anger.

He stormed into the dungeon and walked up to his uncle's cell.

"You pretended to be me and ordered a peace between Harkonnen and Dragonis didn't you?"

Bors smiled.

"What if I did? You were busy fighting me and-"

Draco cut him off and turned to his aide.

"Have the Gorgon land troops on Giedi Prime."

"For protection?"

Draco looked at Bors, who was smiling thinking that he had won.

"No, kill Baron Harkonnen and his whole family. I want them dead."

Bors looked at Draco in shock.

"Wh-wh-what are you doing?!"

Draco smiled.

"Destroying your allies and trying to create a stable foundation for my House."


Baron Harkonnen sat on his throne as a member of the Ice Ravens walked into the room.

He stood up.

"Welcome! What does Baron Bors have to say to us for helping to discredit Draco?"

"Baron Draco has aked me to give you something."

With that he took out a heavy spike repeater rifle, firing .50 cal shells, and began firing at the Baron, who was reducded to shredded meat in seconds.

Meanwhile, outside, drop pod after drop pod hit the planet's surface, deploying massive war machines that tore through the House Guard like they were nothing.

Within a few weeks the planet had fallen to House Dragonis.

And House Harkonnen no longer existed.


Over Dragonis IV...

More of Draco's ships orbited Dragonis IV, original homeworld of Hose Dragonis, before it had been lost to House Ordos, whom had been under siege by the forces of House Dragonis.

Draco's forces had been attacking Dragonis IV since before the civil war and they had just taken the planet. House Ordos had been destroyed completely and totally. The Executrix had been killed by being placed in their own torture devices and execution devices.


As Draco set foot in the old Dragonis Palace, on Dragonis IV, he again re-sent his message to House Huahin, but this time added a small side note.

[hide]I destroyed House Harkonnen and have made sure to carry that out. The Harkonnen stench on this universe is finally gone and I have reclaimed our ancestral homeworld of Dragonis IV. Great House Dragonis is returning to its former glory and I ask not to destroy you but only to support you in your bid for the throne. We support you militarily and ask that you please accept this offer.

Respectfully yours,

Draco Dragonis

[/hide] 

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Hallman stared at the report in his hand. The Atreides had refused! The refuseal was a hard slap in the face, but Hallman thought of it as the punishment for being overconfident. He picked up another report from his desk and moved towards the bookshelf on his right. The page was another rumor-report, something about House Cocytus buying AA weaponry.

As Hallman was walking towards the door he saw something odd. One of the chairs in the room had a bump. Not a very large bump, but a bump.

Hallman fired the gun in a square around the bump. This revealed a bomb of some sort. A rangefinder and some explosives. If he moved to close it would explode. Simple, but deadly. Also placed between him and the door.

"Oh, well!" Hallman's lasgun destroyed the rangefinder quickly.

After the bombsquad had left with the bomb remains, he and Christian though of who could do this.

"There is the witches, they don't like our form of government. I don't know why though." Christian said.

"Or any of the other houses that wants a cunfused house to easily take."

"You try to find ths out. I have a message to the House Cocytus.

[hide]I hear you are interested in AA weaponry. We, House Dendarii are willing to offer you some of our publicly secret weapons against an alliance. I am sure this would serve us both well.[/hide]

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Draco slowly walked up to the platform, which was ringed on all sides by his most trusted and most loyal warriors. Patroling the outside were troops in battle suits and every single entrance had two of them flanking it. In orbit directly above him were his three most loyal warships, fighters and bombers deployed and on red alert patrols. The capital city was filled with the most loyal units of troops in the Dragonis army. The citadel itself was surrounded by troops and men in battle suits.

And all of this because Draco was going to make a speech.

Draco walked to the podium and took a deep breath.

"The Imperium of Man. Such an awesome spectacle to behold. Millions of worlds and billions of people all existing together. and yet this fragile fabric of reality has already been torn. The death of the Padishah Emperor over a year ago has led this great mass of humanity to come to the brink of chaos. House Dragonis has just come out of a civil war that almost destroyed it. But it did not destroy it. We have come through it strong and powerful! Our enemies have tried to crush us but we have prevailed!

And it is with this that I make an annoucement! House Dragonis shall rule over a part of space now to be known as the Dragonis Protectorate. Any planet, system  or House that wishes to no longer take part in the Golden Lion Throne conflict is welcome to join us. If they simply wish protection from the fighting they are welcome to join us.

The weaponry factories of Giedi Prime, Tako, and Valhala are working overtime to provide the Protectorate with weaponry and warships. Soon we shall have more powerful fleets and weapons but we are not going to strive for the Golden Lion throne. We shall support any House that asks us for help. We are going to protect any House, Great or Minor.

So with this I state that House Dragonis shall not attempt to take the Golden Lion Throne."

He stepped down from the podium to thunderous applause, the whole time wondering what would become of this.

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Austril Silverius quits the war because of his hectic college schedules... He abandons his planet along with this war equipment and troops... Any House who goes there first will not meet any resistance, instead the people will gladly submit to their new ruler, whoever he is..

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Austril Silverius quits the war because of his hectic college schedules... He abandons his planet along with this war equipment and troops... Any House who goes there first will not meet any resistance, instead the people will gladly submit to their new ruler, whoever he is..

OOC: You withdraw from this 'fic and start your own thread? Even though you have hectic college schedules? What?

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(ooc: sorry for the mispell but Dragonis IV was meant to be Draconis IV. sorry)

Draco sat on his throne and gazed out the window, across the icy oceans of Draconis IV. Ever since his announcement he had had ambassadors and aides and representatives from all over the Imperium come to offer alliances, trade offers and, for some, to petition for membership.

Draco leaned back and began to fall asleep when his wife burst into the throne room.

Draco sat straight up and looked her in the face. Saphira was doing one of the few things that she almost never did.

She was crying.

"A House Minor on a Corrino sub-planet had my father assassinated."

Draco ran to her and enveloped her in a hug and then called for his aides.

As they ran in he finished comforting his wife and then turned to them.

"What sub-planets are on our border?"

"My liege, there is Destrop, held by House Mercant, Galac, held by House Wern, Corvin, held by House Corrino, and Gastrico, held by House Raggl."

"Send the armada to Corvin. Take the planet and decimate it. In fact, deploy the Titans."

"Sir, they are just now leaving research and development!"

"Deploy them."


Corvin.

Held by House Corrino since the Buterlian Jihad.

Home to a rather large Sardaukar base.

And the latest planet dumb enough to strike against the Protectorate.

As the armada deployed from their heighliners, and took up positions in orbit, a single large ship slowly drifted out of one of the heighliners.

This ship was massive. Fourty miles from bow to stern it was extremely impressive.

And defended by the armada is was a great vessel.

But to comfort the Guild it had only one weapon.

The Titans.

As the ship drifted into orbit it began deploying massive drop pods from its underside, so much so that it looked like fruit dropping from a tree and, when finished, left the ship looking rather thin and tiny in comparison with the other ships.


The Drop pods hit the surface and deployed massive, six man crewed, war machines built for one purpose, destruction. One of them deployed in a valley and, in an effort to get at the base on the top of the mountain, simply began to demolish the mountainside with its heavy weapons.

The Sardaukar fought long and hard but in three weeks Corvin had fallen and Draco and Saphira were happy.

They hated war and did not want to become another offensive state.

But if they had to,

they would.

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  • 7 months later...

Shortly after the last meeting of the landsraad.

High Priest Enginseer Alexander walks down the main corridor, Mentat and personnel guard following behind. Alexander:"Mentat, what is the status of our factories?" Mentat:"They are operating at half capacity my lord." Alexander:"Increase it to 85% capacity and put our services up to the highest bidder, i dont not think we can win this war by force, for the other houses of the landsraad, mainly the Harkonnen, Ordos, and the Atreides. We will have to plot our way to the top." Mentat:"As you wish my lord."

5 Hours later in orbit of Techno Prime, the High techpriest in his personnel battle barge and captial ship, the Grand Machine Spirit.

Alexander:"Mentat, if we are to stay ahead in this race, we will need some new forms of technology, mainly weapons." Mentat:"Shall i assemble the 'Think Tank' my lord?" Alexander:"No, i think i will handle this myself, bring me some skrampberry juice"(A juice made from berrys found on Tech Prime, very tasty, and increase the chemical prodution in the mind, causing an increase in the thinking process.) the Mentat motions to a servant, who motions back(Behind the back of the mentat)and is off. The mentat thinks to himself *If the high techpriest is going to be his own think tank, then this must be some good technology, pure skill at work.*

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