Alea jacta est!

[M Martinez <ironqueen@softhome.net>]

The Atreidon -- Atreides Embassy (Kaitain)
The latest addition to the Atreides Embassy, the Atreidon is built in the
modern style, with gleaming metallic trims and smooth matte surfaces. Several
life-sized portraits hang on the walls, interspaced with tapestries in muted
red and green colors. The room is brightly illuminated, both by natural light
streaming in through stained plasteel windows and cunningly hooded
glowtubes. A
massive tufa stone, carved and polished into a horseshoe-shaped table forms
the
center of the room, around which are a dozen high-backed chairs upholstered in
black whaleskin. The centerpiece for the room is a dwarfed tree, lifelike in
shape but only a meter tall.
Exits:
 Heavy Brass Door <W> leads to Hall of the Palladium -- Atreides Embassy
(Kaitain)

Joral slowly examines the scenery.

Joral says, "You have excellent taste, Your Grace."

Praxton strides into the Atreidon, looking for all the world like a warlord
entering his keep. His stride is smooth and even as he reaches a place near
the largest portrait. "Please, Secretary, make yourself comfortable." He
gestures to one of the chairs opposite.

Joral walks over to the offered chair and sits down stiffly.

The Duke allows a small smile, "Thank you, Secretary. I will convey your
regards to our decorators." He taps a button on the table in front of him,
"Callisto, we'll be in the Atreidon. Send up some wine and water, and a
half-dram of melange, please."

From the table, a disembodied voice replies, "Yes, my Lord Duke."

Praxton turns his attention to his guest, "Ambassador Merx has relayed the
Imperium's request to us, Secretary. Mind if we go over it before we start,
to ensure its accuracy?"

Joral says, "Of course, My Lord."
Joral says, "I will go over the plan one more If you would like."

Praxton nods and produces a leather attache from the inner lining of his
tunic. He runs his thumb along the edge of it, to clear the lock, then
flips it open. A moment of paper-rustling, then the Duke reads, "Imperium
requests Atreides quartering of five (5) battallions of troops on the
planet Caladan, for training on large-water-mass planet, timeframe
indefinite, effective naCorrin 1, 10092."

Joral says, "Uh....I'm sorry My Lord....that is not quite correct....."

Joral says, "as small a number as five battalions would not even merit
making sure you can quickly prepare quarters.......the proposed number was
an entire Brigade."

Joral says, "and the time frame was for 2 months only"

Praxton raises an eyebrow, as he lays his case on the table in front of
him. After a pause, "A brigade. Ten batallions."

Joral says, "Not including travel time of course My Lord Duke."

Praxton leans back in his chair, hands entwined on his lap. His tone
remains very neutral, "Of course."

Joral says, "His Majesty believed that moving such a large force as a
brigade should cause us to check with you first. he does not want any
misunderstandings. The troop will only be on Caladan for training purposes
and will not have the authority to do anything else."

Praxton steeples his index fingers, tapping the pads together in a nervous
motion. To Joral, "His Majesty must understand that the presence of
Sardaukar on the home planet of any House Major in any combat-effective
strength sends a very disagreeable message to the Landsraad. Do these
orders come from the Lion Throne?"

Joral says, "My Lord, that is exactly why His Majesty wished you to
understand he does not mean any distrust or concern about House Atreides,
in fact he hopes my presence here will be seen as a sign of good will."

Joral says, "As Your Grace well knows, under the Grand Convention His
Majesty is not required to provide any forewarning of troop movements."

Praxton lets out a small breath, as if catching himself before speaking.
"Secretary....", he pauses, "due respect to His Imperial Majesty, but there
are literally hundreds of 'large-water-mass planets' His Majesty could have
chosen to exersize his troops. Why Caladan?"

Joral looks embarassed for a moment.

Joral says, "Frankly My Lord, I believe it is because the Sardaukar do not
wish to be away from a civilized enviroment....and comfortable quarters....."

Praxton cradles his face in his left hand, an eyebrow raised wryly, "Not
very seemly behaviour for His Majesty's elite terror-troops, to want
pampering on a rich world."

Joral says, "I agree my Lord, but they receieve the best treatment at their
home bases....and it now looks as if they desire premium treatment at
training and duty stations as well."

Joral says, "His Majesty, has a special place in his heart for his
Sardaukar...and denies them nothing..."

Praxton's other eyebrow goes up, his expression conveying the shock of such
knowledge, "He may not, Secretary, but the law is clear. Under Section 166
of the Great Convention, in the event of quartering, the host House must
agree to the number of troops quartered, and a full brigade seems
excessive. Quartering troops is an expensive endeavour, disruptive to the
peace, industry and commerce of a world. We are sadly in no condition to
quarter that many troops."

Joral says, "Excuse me My Lord Duke, I believe you are misreading that
passage."
Joral says, "Perhaps you should also read the next passage along with it....."

Praxton blinks his eyes very slowly, "I had no idea you were a legal
expert, Secretary. Please, illustrate me as to the passage you refer to."

Joral says, "I believe the next passage is "Failure to allow brigade
on-planet shall be treated as treasonous and fall under Proces Verbal." My
Lord. His Majesty has determined that the Sardaukar need to train on
Caladan, he only hoped to make the transistion on and off planet as smooth
and pleasant as possible."

Joral says, "And the passage the you accidently misquoted My Lord Duke is
"Host Planet must provide shelter and provisions for said troops of a
specific agreed number. Should said troops become involved in militarist
actions upon house planet, the house has cause to petition the Landsraad
High Council for Redress."....My Lord"

The Duke levels a gaze on Joral of an intensity quite possibly capable of
melting stone. "There is nothing 'pleasant', Secretary, about having a
full.. brigade.. of Sardaukar on my home planet. I agree that His Majesty
has a right to quarter, and I am not refusing the right. I am refusing the
number."

Joral says, "My Lord, I'm sorry then. I misunderstood and apologize."
Joral bows slightly while remaining seated.

Praxton continues, "And I must admire your courage in suggesting that a
Siridar-Duke, regarded as one of the foremost legal scholars in the
Imperium, has 'misquoted' the Great Convention."

Joral says, "Even His Majesty has been known to make momentary errors, My
Lord Duke."
Joral says, "My Lord, I assume you have a counter-proposal to end this
empass?"

Praxton reclines slightly in his chair, "Very well, then. I may be excused
in thinking His Majesty may have made a 'momentary error' in considering
moving a bridage of Sardaukar to Caladan."

Joral says, "My Lord, it is his Majesty's right. He hoped your grace would
not be so concerned about following the grand convention. It is only a
tenth of a legion My Lord, and you have many legions."

Praxton swallows visibily, his pulse now visible upon his temples,
"Secretary, you will excuse my bluntess, but I fear you do not see the
entire picture. A single brigade of Sardaukar, with proper command and
control, can easily ransack Castle Caladan and put every single one of its
inhabitants to the sword. And you want me -NOT- to be concerned about THE
ONLY PIECE OF LAW that protects me and mine?"

Joral sighs.

Joral says, "My Lord Duke, I believe I mispoke myself.......to allow this
brigade on planet completely within his majesty's right under the Grand
Convention. And frankly My Lord Duke, if His majesty intended to ransack
Castle Caladan there would be nothing anyone could do to stop it. I hope to
releave your anxiety about this mission, but I also will not accept that
his Majesty's right be infringed."

"Very well then, Secretary", Praxton states, as he opens his case anew and
settles a pince-nez on his nose. "You will kindly relay our counteroffer to
His Imperial Majesty: House Atreides volunteers to quarter two (2)
batallions of troops, arrange for rotation of said batallions until the
brigade entire is trained, and split pro-rata the expense of transport."

Joral says, "My Lord, I will carry your proposal, but I can tell you now it
will not be accepted."

Praxton smiles pleasantly, "It might not, Secretary. But if you are any
sort of legal scholar, you will see that this counteroffer liberates me
from the charge of refusal to quarter and therefore anulls any threat of
Proces Verbal."

Joral says, "My lord, it does not."
Joral stands.

Joral says, "Thank you for your time my Lord Duke."
Joral bows deeply to you.

Praxton turns in his chair to face the portrait on the wall, "Good day,
Secretary."
Joral says, "You will be hearing from His Majesty shortly."

Joral walks to the west and passes through the Heavy Brass Door.
Joral has left.