Assasination Log

[Morgen <jdmoldenhaue@stthomas.edu>]

An assasination attempt occured in the Imperial Hotel on 1/2/99. Have
fun reading it, I hope.

Morgen enters from the hotel lobby.
Morgen has arrived.

Morgen enters the Lounge amidst a cluster of four men in Ginaz uniforms
and two women also wearing the softer version of the same. He walks with
the same click drag clud that has become characteristic of his gate in
recent days. Morgen's face is sullen, and his brow furrowed in though.
His right hand of course holds the ever-present cane and his left an
actual real book, not a filmbook but the real thing; it looks old, worn
and is cradled in his hand almost like a piece of the finest china.

Filarion is sitting at the bar, talking to a young lady, who seems to be
the bartender. As he notices the ado, that comes before a Siridar
entering any place, he stands up, curiously awaiting the newcomer. As he
notices that it is the Ginaz' Siridar, he bows deeply, remaining quiet
as he has not yet been addressed.

Filarion holds the bow.

Morgen returns many the bows of those in the room with a single bow and
a smile at the reception he receives. Seeing several individuals
offering their hands, he shakes them, like a politician working a crowd,
he exchanges handshakes and even the occasional hug, but to the trained
eye his course is set for the bar and the Harkonnen Count located at it.

Holding his bow, though not as low as before, still appropriate for the
occasion, Filarion gives his greeting as the Marquis approaches "My Lord
Marquis. It is a great pleasure."

Morgen returns the bow, to near genuflection. As Morgen rises his cane
is tucked against his right side and his hand is offered "Count
Lankiveil, May the Hand of God be with you as he is with myself as he
has graced me with your presence."

Filarion rises from his bow and takes the offered hand, smiling as he
replies. "My Lord, the pleasure and luck is on my side. I have long
looked forward to meet My Lord in person"

Morgen grasping your hand in the two of his he shakes it firmly for an
old man, his left hand immediately leaving to motion toward a prepared
table, and letting your hand drop off his right at the same time he says

"Would my Count like to join my party and I for a light meal," his tone
becomes playful and is head wiggles to emphasize this "perhaps we could
even talk shop."

Filarion nods at once. "It would indeed be a pleasure, My Lord." He
leaves his drink at the bar and follows the Marquis.

Several handshakes and introductions late you arrive at the table, a
smiling but nervous waitress who begins by moving a chair out at the
head of the table for the Marquis, who politely motions one of the
female aides to sit at the head of the table and motions for the other
female to take the opposite seat. The confused waitress looks around and
shrugs in futility as Morgen motions to you saying "Would you please sit
Count Linkeveil, honor my associates and I with your presence at our
table."

Filarion bows a bit upon being addressed. "The honor is on my side" he
says and bows to the aides. Then he finally takes his seat, handing his
robe to one of the hotel servants before.

Morgen takes his seat of the males in his company. He looks at the menu
for a moment, then setting it down orders to a glass of juice. Looking
intently at you he asks "So Count Linkeveil how are you, yours and of
course the good Baron."

Filarion does not meet the Marquis' gaze directly as he replies. "I
don't have any reasons to complain, My Lord. The Baron prospers, too. We
have some minor quarrels among the Baron's sons, but that's common.
Our external relations are unusually good. Indeed we seek to strengthen
the Landsraad as good as we can, and even were promised the Alvstadt's
and the Atreides' support."

Morgen's hands meet atop the table. Slightly cocking his head to the
side he asks with earnest interest, "If I may so bold as to ask what you
my good count and the August Baron have in mind for the strengthening of

the Landsraad."

Filarion shifts in his chair, accepting the wine a waiter brings. "My
Lord, in these hard days there is the need of a strong and unified
Landsraad. We noted that our Emperor is seeking to widen his influence,
positioning Sardaukar units on Caladan and Giedie Prime. Frankly, My
Lord, we do not think that this will remain the only action into that
direction. Through a strong Landsraad we could react swiftly and
decisively to new developments." He emphasizes his word with a sweep of
his left in the air. "My Lord, there are more important matters than
Kanlys between Houses at the moment."

Morgen smiles in realization though it is cut short by the intrusion of
the waitress with his juice. Taking a quick sip he asks after the purple
liquid has cleared his throat, "I agree with you with regards to
Kanlies." then motioning to continue he says "But please do go on."

Filarion inclines his head, twisting the goblet in his fingers. "Of
course, this whole 'idea' would only work if -all- Houses would stand
together. Of course there could not be an official statement on that
matter, so everything is based on honor and maybe an oath."

Morgen absently strokes his chin asking "And how would My Baron and your
my dear Count propose to bring forth such a grand detante, or even
alliance?"

Filarion sighs as he speaks, placing the glass back on the table. "That,
My Lord Marquis is our greatest problem. Every single House has to see
the need for this and join, then. There is no point in threats as they
would destroy the base of this 'agreement'. Of course, there would have
to be unofficial meetings between some of the Siridar Lords before there
is any real decision. I am only speculating here, with, I might add the
consent of House Harkonnen, Atreides and Alvstad."

Morgen's fingers tip tap for a moment as he ponders his response, and
after a moment "The masses are driven by indignation, they are
galvanized by something they can flock to in response to something that
strikes to close to home, what exactly would the good Baron and you my
good Count propose as such an event?"

Filarion shrugs and sips from his wine before responding. "Such an event
should be well-planned and executed and be approved of by all
participants. I really am not in the position to make even a proposal,
My Lord Marquis."

The pleasant sounds and conversation that rules this room is shattered
in an instant. A sharp soprano scream cuts through the air, all eyes
turning toward the source, a horrified woman. The origin of her horror
is a host whose hands grasp in vain to seal the gaping hole that has
been sliced in his throat. Behind the host rushes a man with a stunner
in one hand and a fifteen-inch blade in the other. He rushes toward the
Ginaz
table, firing the stunner as he runs. Morgen is nearly tackled by the
female sitting at the head of the table as the stunner bolts fly in
their direction.

Filarion only waits a second before reacting, then leaps out of his
chair, activating his bodyshield to act as an additional shield. With a
jump he tries to position himself before the downtackled Marquis and the

assassin.

The woman who tackled Morgen suddenly jerks forward at the impact of
several stunner bolts. Bolts ricochet off your shield, a man howls in
pain. The assailants onrushing is not impede by the cowering occupants
of the room, save three men who stand at differing points within the
room. Brandishing slender dark objects they hurl them at the assailant.
The three dark objects are joined by two glistening ones hurled by one
of the females and a male in the company of the Marquis. Each finds its
target, the three black ones lodged in differing points in the man's
head and the glistening objects in a cluster about the man's heart. As
quickly as it began it has ended.

Calmly, but very quick Filarion draws his own dagger from his belt, as
he notices that it all already is over. Through the shield, a metallic
sigh is heard, and then the shield is deactivated. Filarion turns to
look after the Marquis.

Morgen looks to the woman draped across him. She begins to convulse
violently. Morgen has no time to comfort her, as the other members of
his company and the three-plane clothesmen each respectively rush no
drag him out of the lounge as in a near stampede.

One in the Marquis' company stays behind to watch over their fallen
comrade, but the Marquis is moved much faster than can possibly be
comfortable as the wedge of Ginaz exit the lounge post haste.

Iohannes sweeps into a low bow to Morgen and a less formal bow to

The room is just now in the silence that accompanies the direct
aftermath of extreme violence. A host lays sprawled on the floor blood,
seeping from a neck wound. A man dressed in a workers outfit a stunner
and fifteen inch blade in hand lays quite dead in the middle of the
lounge with three blackened throwing knives extruding from his head and
two stainless steal of the same construction exiting his chest in a
cluster about the heart. One of the Ginaz, a female, is down and by no
means in a good way. The Marquis is hurried out in a wedge of guards
toward the exit.

Iohannes glances about, drawing his sword. "What is this? What obtains?"



Filarion sees that his presence certainly would not be appreciated by
the Guards, so he tries what little he can do to help the downed guard.

Morgen is exited from the room and can be seen through the windows being
manhandled into an awaiting staffcar and the staffcar tears out of the
lot.

Iohannes finishes surveying the room, sheathing his sword. He bows to
the departing Marquis and the Count, then kneeling beside him, asks,
quietly, "What was this, an assassination attempted upon the Marquis?"

Filarion nods as he tries to move the body of the guard into a steady
position. "Indeed. It failed, thank God, but who would dare to do that.
And my thoughts are not very positive as I have a suspicion."

Iohannes bobs his head curtly, then moves over to the dying host. "I
know very well what my Lord Count means..." He tears a strip from his
clothing to use as a temporary bandage.

Iohannes does what he can to succor the dying man. "This is indeed
appalling... And upon Kaitain no less..."

Another group of men in Ginaz uniforms enters; they quickly make their
way to the lounge. They head directly for their fallen comrade and her
caretakers. The leader, his gold shoulder boards standing out against
the olive drab uniforms distinguishes him as such, moves in close to
Filarion and says politely as his unit breaks off, one group attending
to the fallen bodyguard, the other the assailant "Sir let us do our jobs
and care for her please."

Filarion nods at the guard. "Of course. You can treat her better than
me. But what about the Assassin? Who will take care of his body and
search it for clues?"

The group attending to the assailant quickly ascertains that there is no
hope and spreads out quickly to the other injured guests. The sharp
claxons can be heard as the Kaitain municipal units begin to respond.

The leader responds as two men lift the wounded Ginaz up and out of the
lounge "That is the duty of those officers with House Corrino." Looking
out the window several APCs and other emergency vehicles can be seen
approaching the leader responds "Here they come now."

Filarion suddenly looks worried as he impatiently waits for a statement
of the guard. "Take the assassin with you, in any case. It shall not
fall into the hands of the Corrino officers. Quick, bring him into a
Ginaz car. They have no authority over them."

The guardsman responds "I must apologize sir and decline, it would be a
breach of protocol." The Kaitain police force enters at a dead run and
begins to clear the room quickly and efficiently.

Filarion shrugs and bites on his tongue. Giving Iohannes a quick nod, he
gets his robe and leaves, looking very uncomfortable.

Iohannes turns to the local constabulary. "Our Mentat is on his way – he
wishes to see the crime scene.

The rest of the night is filled with questions; answers and the wails of
those wounded both physically and emotionally. The men from the Kaitain
municipality do an efficient job of removing those who need to be
removed, but comforting is not part of their job description. The Ginaz
personnel make a discrete exit before much notice is taken of them and
soon after many hours the Imperial Lounge is returned to its former
state of affairs.






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