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Salusa Secundus Survivor

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Name: Akshell Reikar

Height:5' 10

Build:Broad, slightly over weight

Hair Colour: Dark

Hairstyle: Long unkempt, dead hair

Eye Colour: Blue

(Former) Allegiance: Atredies Swordmaster

Background: A graduate of Ginaz, Akshell was an exemplary student, putting honor above all and unquestioningly loyal to the Duke. Until his family were killed by the Sardaukar. Distraught and with nothing left to live for he took to drink and became heavily addicted to Semuta. Realising his lifestyle would soon kill him while the emperor would live on. Akshell restarted his training regime but years of drink and drugs had taken their toll, he was badly out of shape but nothing could stop him; after six months grueling training he set off for Corrin to eliminate The Padishah Emperor and his family. After killing the Emperor's youngest son Akshell was bested by the Emperor's own personal guard and shipped to live on Salusa Secundus to live the rest of his short life in the utmost suffering.

Akshell came around slowly. He could that someone was carrying him, his gut bouncing against a bony back. When his senses came to him he awoke with a jerk bringing down the man who had been carrying him. As he lay on the floor feeling the coarse sand in his hands he thought he could make out three figures but couldn't be sure. "Are you ok?" "Can you walk" "What's your name?". He could not discern the voices as he slowly tried to get to his feet, he could not be sure if he heard anything at all. Speaking through a rough dry throat he was eventually able to utter a few words:

"My... name... is Akshell... Reikar... swordsman of the Atreides... Where are we?"

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Larvin dug his pocket for the water canteen and gave Akshell a drink, immersing his parched throat with the warm water.

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OOC: Okay.  Soon we will approach some NPC Sardaukar anyway.

"Ah, Akshell, we are on Salusa Secundus, I'm sure you've heard of it."  Pointing to the ever nearing rocky ridge, he explained to the newcomer the situation, "We are on our way over there, hopefully those rocks will provide us with a degree of safety, and allow us to survey the area.  We are trying to find a smuggler base, as I'm sure you'll agree, that's a better option that contacting the Imperial forces." 

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Ferrix stepped over the jagged sheets of loose shale, noiselessly, remembering his briefing on Party Three.  The Sardaukar only recorded basic information about the prisoners; in the end, they didn't care who died on their world, only who survived to introduce themselves personally.

He thought about the Fremen among them... he showed promise.  Like Ferrix, he had sampled some of the worst of nature, and survived.  He cursed the Imperial inquisitor for his lack of foresight in cutting out his voicebox.  But then, a Fremen would likely prove impossible to recuit, in spite of their competence.  A shame, really.  He was, however, curious to see what the madness of melange withdrawal would bring for his comrades... the Sardaukar had found his pseudoSpice liquid and replaced it with a placebo.  Hhe touched the small case of concentrated Spice capsules at his belt.  Just in case...

This Party would require more tact than the last.  With Party Two, he simply had to sit back and watch, but with Three, there was the Spice-dependent Fremen to monitor.  They were also dangerously close to a camp of Ferals - prisoners who had proven themselves able to survive on S.S. but for whatever reason were unfit for recruitment into the Sardaukar ranks... madness, either from the stesses of the planet, or from prolonged exposure to it's more radioactive zones; physical disability; or in rare cases, an unbreakable resolve - loyalty to something that cannot be replaced by any attempt at Sardaukar conditioning.  Ferals were outcasts, from their homes, and from the only people who would possibly accept them.  They ceased to be individuals, becoming a part of Salusa Secundus itself.  Like the laza tigers, they were part of the Test.

They should be waking now.  Some already will be on foot.  He sped up, eager to see these new recruits.  And deep within him, a small voice screamed for attention.

No, you fool!  You needn't live this way.  Find a way off Salusa, back to Siezewell!

But all Ferrix heard, were the hot winds of hell worlds.

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Larvin's throat itched, his mind felt heavy, his eyesight became foggy.

These are the signs that indicated his body's need of the special vial of liquid, the pseudoSpice.

Larvin hurriedly took the vial and dropped a small portion on the tip of his tongue. Everything went back to normal but his head still felt heavy.

<i> This isn't supposed to happen! Maybe this is just from the torture, but... </i>

the weight felt like he was wearing a steel helmet. Larvin, bearing the Fremen's endurance, waved off the pain and the weight like a fly.

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Noting the Freman's increased agitation, Kitto wanted to find out the problem.  "What's wrong Larvin?"  Having to write using a slate and chalk must be really depressing.  Perhaps he could teach us some battle language?

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Larvin shook his head, attempting to take off the weight...

"nothing," he gestured... the hand gestures he was using dates back to the days of the old earth, the so called "sign language," forming letters with unique hand gestures.

He was thankful that the brutes only took his power of speech. He couldn't imagine what hell could it be if his eyes were the ones taken off instead of his vocal cords.

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Name: Bron Goldklomp

Height: 1,78 meter

Build: Muscled

Hair Colour: Brown with small blue stripes

Hairstyle: Long and messy

Eye Colour: Brown

(Former) Allegiance: Atreides Trooper

Background: Son of one of the most known smugglers around the Atreides galaxy, however, Bron has no luck in smuggling and joined the military to get things straightened in his life. His father doesn't want to see him any more and his mother passed away, on a early age, during a space flight experiment. Perhaps Bron will have more luck when he needs to fight for his life on Salusa Secundus.

"Aaaahh!!" yelled Bron, he finally woke up between the rocks. He must have woken up because of the pain in his back and the constant high sound in his ears. Around 10 hours ago Bron experienced the lowest moment in his military career as a Trooper. 'It's amazing they left me alive' thought Bron. During one of the special operations he somehow fired a defect launcher causing a massive blast that blew one of the main tanks out of use. His hearing must have gotten destroyed by the blast, but what was the worst of all, he gave away the location to the enemies and ruining the operation. Bron gets slowly up and feels in his pockets, he finds a "Purple Heart". Between the high sound in his ears he can barely hear himself think: 'Great, they left me a souvenir...'

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Dievs looked at Larvin warily. They had stopped to inspect Akshell, who, it seemed, was drifting in and out of conciousness. Nodding to Kitto and Larvin, Dievs said, "I'll carry him now. I don't want to be a nag, but I really do not want to be moving too slow. I'm no planetologist, but I know that on planets like these it's searing hot in the day, but at nighttime the temperatures drop below zero, so let us keep moving."

The sun was sinking ever lower, casting long shadows. Eerie caws and shrieks from the predatorial birds of Salusa echoed throughout the night sky. Dievs felt a shiver run down his back. He had been a soldier, but that was a long time ago, and it wasn't as if he had seen much action, much less on a desert planet. The sounds of the night began to unnerve him - especially them being as vulnerable as they were, with only a few rocks for defense. The rocky plateau was drawing closer, but Dievs reckoned it would still be a while before they reached it - 2 hours at the very least, probably even more. Unconciously, Dievs picked up his pace, Akshell half-clinging to his back...

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OOC: Thumper, you're in the second bunch of survivors, as we've left already.  You can try to track us down, or wait for more participants and form your own group.

Suddenly, a group of people came towards the survivors.  The four men looked at each other, not sure how welcoming these new men would be.  They were doubts were soon confirmed as the men, six in total started to run towards them, shouting in a battle crazed way.  Dievs immediately threw one of his rocks, which hit one of them in the face, breaking his nose, and knocking him unconscious; Kitto congratulated him, "Good aim, now let's finish the rest off!"  Holding a large rock like a club, Kitto was ready for the oncoming fight.  What are these people?  They look like men, but with the savagery and mannerisms of animals!

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OOC: last post, gotta get some sleep.  ;D

Despite the weight on his head Larvin pounded the skull of one of the crazed men with his spiked club, smashing the cranium like a coconut. One  of the men howled and ran towards Dievs, intending to rip him to shreds with a metal pipe. Dievs quickly subdued the man with a quick kick to its neck, snapping it like a twig. 

One of the men crept his way towards Kitto's back while he was fighting one of the crazed men. Larvin wished he could warn his friend if he had a voice. The last of the hostiles knocked Larvin off of his feet with a leg sweep then raised his mace to the air, about to smash Larvin's skull with it.

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Kitto turned just in time to see the man swing his fist towards him, and fell back on purpose to avoid it, bumping into another of the men, who seemed to be ready to strike the prone Larvin.  Quickly getting back to his feet, he hit the man in the stomach, and then grabbed a small dagger on the man's belt, and struck him in the throat, before the man could use his mace against him.  Then, grabbing the man's limp body, he blocked the second man's attack, before a swift blade to the side brought the man to his knees, before he toppled over and fell flat on his face.  Turning around, he saw the drowsy Akshell had slaughtered the final man, in a bloody brawl.

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Ooh damn you, Newt, I had typed up an annoyingly long and detailed post and then I see that you've already answered. :D No matter. :)

Wiping his forehead with his hand, Dievs flopped down onto the ground with a ragged sigh. It really wouldn't be a matter of just finding civilisation and escaping. They had barely been hear a few hours and already they had been attacked by a gang of what looked like wilde men. Getting up, he walked over to Kitto.

"These your smugglers, then?" he asked dryly. Kitto started to answer, but Dievs cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"Rhetorical question, rhetorical question. Let's check what we can salvage from them," he said, walking over to the nearest corpse. He picked up a flask of water and a slightly rusty knife. There was nothing else - whoever these people were, they traveled quite spartan. He pocketed the knife and clipped the flask to his belt. It was getting heavier - no good when he needed to travel light. Unclipping the flask of water, he took a long, satisfying drink, then put it back once more. Crouching down again, he pulled off a long turban that had been shielding the man's face, as well as a billowing cloak. It reminded him a bit of what he knew of the Fremen... In any case, it would provide that much more protection against the elements. Turning around, he saw Kitto, Larvin, and Akshell doing the same.

To no-one in particular, Dievs announced, "Don't forget, we have a live one, too," he said, pointing to the unconcious man with the broken nose. "Now... who here is a good interrogator?"

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As Kitto walked over to the unconscious man, Larvin seemed upset. "It is a shame we cannot take their water to aid us, alas I do not have even the most basic equipment to do it" "Don't worry about it, we'll ask this one where the supplies are."  Pulling the man by his arms, he attempted to stir the man, but to no avail.  "Anyone got any ideas what we should do with this one?  Definitely no smuggler, this man is like a Sardaukar in his savagery, but his discipline suggests he isn't one."

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Though the winds were quickly erasing the tracks, Ferrix could make out three distinct sets of footprints leaving the site where Party Three had been inserted.

They were in a hurry.  They couldn't wait for their fourth to fully recover from the drugs.  He noted one set of tracks in particular.  They seemed random, and were the hardest to follow.

Save your strength, Fremen.  There are no worms here.  There are new things to fear, now, like the Ferals you're walking toward.

At his hip rested a small leather pouch, which he now unsnapped.  Inside was a shigawire whipsword, one of the deadliest weapons in unshielded personal combat, and one of the most difficult to use without causing severe injury to the wielder.  A steel weight was tethered to the cylindrical handle by a reel of shigawire, which would extend with centrifugal force to a length of up to six feet.  The shigawire could cut through almost anything with relative ease, from hide to bone to steel.

He might need it soon, for there were other tracks than just those of the party...

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OOC: Uh, if I get it right, there is party of three man who just killed a few 'caveman' and one of the 'caveman' is unconscious. There is also a sardaukar following their path.

While Bron was slowly walking to the top of a desert dune he thought about how to survive: 'This military suit has a decent body heat controller system, but it isn't made for this bad sand conditions. Let's hope the system will keep up when it gets dark and cold.' He has also thought about the warm and comforting smile of his mother. Bron started to smile a little.

By now Bron reached the peak of the dune and saw to his surprise a few people in the far distance. 'It looks like there was a fight, a few man are down.' he thought. Bron started to walk in the direction of the party, not sure how to proceed. While the high sound in his ears was still going strong, he knew this was now one of his least worries, the few man in the distance look aggressive.

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OOC: Uh, if I get it right, there is party of three man who just killed a few 'caveman' and one of the 'caveman' is unconscious. There is also a sardaukar following their path.

OOC: Correct.  I must point out, that the Sardaukar following us is not Ferrix, he is some way behind.  We will encounter the Sardaukar who is watching us pretty soon.

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After relieving the dead men of their measly posessions, Dievs walked over to the unconcious man. He and Kitto, who was trying to wake him up, looked over him.

"Anyone got any ideas what we should do with this one?  Definitely no smuggler, this man is like a Sardaukar in his savagery, but his discipline suggests he isn't one," Kitto said, looking thoughtfully at the man.

"Well.. He may be our only link to any other humans, although if they are all like him, I wouldn't want to meet them. But I'm willing to take the risk, and besides, he could become a bargaining tool. I believe," Dievs said slowly, looking at Kitto, Larvin, and Akshell in turn, "That we should take him with us. If we bind him somehow and one of us stands guard over him while another is carrying him, I think that the risk of him attacking or harming us would be quite minimal."

Kitto shrugged, and said, "I don't think he and his friends would hesitate to kill us if they had the same chance, but what you say is true. Fine, let us take him with us."

Dievs looked at Larvin, who looked displeased with the idea.

"Larvin?" he asked.

"On Arrakis, we killed any enemies and took their water. I do not see why this should be any different. I have lost my way in the desert before, we can find our way without him..."

Dievs frowned.

"But this is not Arrakis, and none of us know the land at all. There are no worms here, but rather Salusan bulls and laza tigers, not to mention Sardaukar and these... these men," he said, gesturing to the unconcious man. "And I would feel that it would be a wasted opportunity if we didn't get at least some information from him. In any case, I shall take him. My morals do not allow me to leave an unconcious man to die in the wastes, even if he was trying to kill us. We don't even know their reasons... Perhaps they have had bad experiences with previous bands of prisoners exiled here. And I don't wonder why," he trailed off, looking at the corpses. Then, without a word, he picked up the unconcious man, hoisted him over his shoulder, and started off in the direction of the outcropping. If he was to die because of his soft-heartedness, so be it, but he had a lurching feeling that he would die anyway in these wastes - a stranger in a strange, hostile land...

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OOC:  Before we continue, we should establish a few things.  First, when does this take place?  Up until now, I've assumed it to take place some time prior to Paul Atreides' rise to power, possibly before Shaddam's reign.  Also, before anyone finds any Sardaukar, remember that even the least competent among them are some of the deadliest humans in existence.  Fighting them head-on would be foolishness.  Finally, it occurs to me that we're on a Prison Planet, and have no real criminals.  if I may, I'm going to play a second part.

Name: Jeffyr Kalas

Height: 5'7"

Build: Slight

Hair Colour: Sandy blond

Hairstyle: Wiry; long; unkempt

Eye Colour: Grey-geen

(Former) Allegiance: Commoner

Background:  Arrested for serial murder on the Imperial protectorate of Highfall.

========================================================

The scorpion-like creature twisted and writhed, suspended by it's poisonous tail.  Jeffyr had awoken mere hours ago on this world, and already he hungered.  Not for food, though the lowly creature would certainly provide sustenance and water.  He wanted to kill.  He took hold of one of the insect's legs, and slowly pulled it until it came free.  The creature - roughly nine inches long, and nearly half as wide - jerked and snapped the air with it's claws.

"How will I end you, little pet?" Jeffyr whispered, staring intently at the creature, now having only three of it's original six legs.  "How will I allow you to die?"  He began chewing on one of the legs he had removed.  "You probably don't have any preference... moreover, being an insect, you probably don't even understand what I'm saying."  With a sharp piece of shale, he quickly cut the creature free from it's tail, allowing it to fall to the rocky ground.  It tried unsuccessfully to limp to a crack in the rock, until Jeffyr flipped it on it's back with a heavy boot.

"The sun will end you.  I will enjoy watching that," he said, still chewing on the leg.

From his vantage point at the pinnacle of the rock outcropping, through the windblown sand, Jeffyr could barely make out a small group of people headed his way.

"Guests?  At this hour?  And me without hors d'oeuvres to welcome them with!"  He glared at the insect.  "This is all your fault!  ...No, that was harsh of me.  Still, I'll need to welcome them somehow.  Something grand, like the courts of Kaitain!"  His hands searched the folds of his thick cloak, caressed the small pistol he had awoken with, and grinned.

"I'll think of something..."

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OOC:  Before we continue, we should establish a few things.  First, when does this take place?  Up until now, I've assumed it to take place some time prior to Paul Atreides' rise to power, possibly before Shaddam's reign.  Also, before anyone finds any Sardaukar, remember that even the least competent among them are some of the deadliest humans in existence.  Fighting them head-on would be foolishness.  Finally, it occurs to me that we're on a Prison Planet, and have no real criminals.  if I may, I'm going to play a second part.

OOC: Any time between the nuclear destruction of SS, and the rule of Shaddam IV.

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As the sun's glaze started to dip below distant mountains, Kitto felt relieved as their shelter was only moments away.  Why did Dievs bring that savage with us?  Surely when he awakens he will just try to kill us again.  The four men, and their prisoner, were silent as they completed the last part of the day's journey, as the recent events had taken a hold on them all.  Kitto began to lead them to a cave, high enough up on the slope to provide sufficient natural surveillance.

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As they entered the cave, Dievs heaved the prisoner down with a grunt of relief. It had been hard going, carrying him all the way to the cave, but finally it was done. The cave was small, but large enough for the group of five to stand comfortably. Dievs stood over the the prisoner, who was moaning, probably delirious from pain and blood loss. Rolling him onto his stomach, he sat on top of him, pinning his arms to his back, and brought him around.

He might be a savage, but I'm willing to bet he was once a citizen of the Empire. He'll understand what we're asking him...

"Ksh... Let me go, scum!" were the first words the captive spat when he came to, and started struggling.

"Not a chance - not until you tell us what we want to know. Don't think I'll hesitate to slit your throat," Dievs threatened, holding the scavenged knife to his throat. The man merely sneered and said,

"If you couldn't leave me for dead out in the desert, you won't slit my throat now," he said with a nasty cackle. Dievs ignored it.

"First of all, who are you? Why did you attack us? Where did you come from?"

"Oh, quite inquisitive you are, you clueless slob. We're wild Sardaukar, we run around the desert and play with our friends the tigers and bulls, hap - " He was cut off as Dievs slammed his head into the ground, causing the man to cry out in pain.

"I am on Salusa Secundus. In the space of a few hours of waking up, I have been attacked by the likes of you. I do not know where we are, or where the closest civilised place is. I am a very desperate man, and no-one will hear you die. Now answer me," Dievs said through clenched teeth. The captive growled, but answered.

"We are the rejects of the Sardaukar. We survived, but for on reason or the other we were not fit to be included in the ranks of our lord Emperor's great shock troops." He said the last part of the sentence mockingly. "We were attacked and banished when we tried to integrate into the local culture, so we formed our own communities out in the wastes. Our group was merely a "greeting party", sent out when our scouts spotted a dropship dumping you onto the ground. We might have spared the lives or one or two of you, but seeing as you bested us...Well, you shall not survive long."

"Where is your camp?"

"Ha! Wouldn't you like to know!"

"ANSWER ME!" Dievs roared, slamming his head against the stone again. The captive's eyes unfocused and he coughed up blood. After several moments, he answered.

"You can do what you like to me, but I shall not reveal our home. We don't need your flabby skins there. Do what you like to me, but I know that I'm going to die. With these injuries I won't survive long, and they won't accept me back at the community. Fools! I shall tell you only that there is a small community of people north-west of here, a day's walk at least. Whether they are indigenous or not, I do not know - they shoot at us whenever we get too close or their patrols spot on of us."

Seeing that the man was not going to survive, Dievs looked over at Larvin, who nodded. Lifing the man's head up one more time, higher this time, Dievs brought it down with all of the force he could muster. There was a sickening thud as the face met the ground, the man went still, and blood began to pool underneath the head. Sighing raggedly, Dievs stood up, shaky and unnerved. He could feel the rage subsiding in him, and he understood how these prisoners had turned into the savages that they were...

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Name: KGA

Height: Short (don't want to do specifics)

Build: Not muscular, not "unfit".

Hair Colour: Dark Brown

Hairstyle: Puffy

Eye Colour: Glowing Teal

(Former) Allegiance: none

Background: I'll do this later, but... Hmm... I guess he'll be psychic, age - 16... I'll think up the rest later...

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He can't just be called KGA, surely?  He also will not be a psychic, they don't exist on Dune  in the terms you are thinking of.

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<Ferrix>

--------

Ferrix brought the binoculars to the lenses of his stillmask and watched as the party entered the cave in the rocks.  He sneered - they took a prisoner.  And one that would reveal little information through interrogation, at that.  If they were ever to become Sardaukar, such a practice must be trained out of them.

Still, they had performed reasonably well against the Ferals.  They were sloppy, but seemed to be meshing as a team.  Whatever their former allegiances and dispositions toward each other, they could still work together.  At least a few of them might come to serve the Padishah Emperor well.

And a though surfaced in his mind, briefly, bright and pure:  Why do you concern yourself with serving the Emperor?  House DeLuna is where your loyalties lie... and they are suffering under the man who killed your Duchess!  But it was quickly drowned in a sea of memorized training manuals, tests, and zeal for the Imperium.

There was another prisoner hiding in that rock.  Jeffyr Kalas.  His briefing described him as unpredictable and erratic.  The Sardaukar had known Party three would head for the rocks, and so they placed him there to test them.  Jeffyr himself could have become a good soldier, but it was decided that conditioning would not be able to take hold properly.

What will the party do with Jeffyr?  ...Or what will he do with them?

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