Malarca Ground Battle (Bajazet Perspective)

[Mithrandir <gandalf@gte.net>]

Haroon pulls on a pair of riding gloves and checks the saddle and weapons
secured to his horse's flanks. He gives its a neck a rub and swings easily
up into the saddle.

Fittstim checks over his equipment and says a few reassuring words to his
horse as he swings up into the saddle.

Assaf sits on his horse watching the impending field of battle. A somewhat
sad look in his eyes, he turns the horse in place and looks at Haroon and
then at Umar. At other circumstances it would be a joyous meeting of
friends but now there is something more important to do. He doublechecks
all equipment and rides over to a small hill near the enterance of the
camp.

Haroon adjusts a pair of oil-lenses and pans across the once-proud, now
ravaged Palace. Smoke already drifts from holes in its rooves and clouds
the horizon.

From your vantage point within the tents, all of you see a group of eight
men, all on large, black horses riding up to your position from the
battlefield.

The ranks of Bajazet troops begin to line up in two rows along the battle
field, one row faces forward, on vigilant watch for the enemy, while the
other kneels upon worn prayer rugs and begin this prayer chanting, "Wa ash
hadu an la illaha ill Allah wa ash hadu Mohommedan Rasul Allah." Placing
their hands over their ears they then chant "Allaah-O-Akbar!"

Fittstim studies his surroundings carefully, listening to every movement,
readying himself mentally for what is to come.

Using Amat, Haroon says, "We pay an expensive cost for pride."

Assaf looks at the prayer taking place and then gallops towards the group
of eight men, wanting to check what they want.

The group of riders finally reaches the tents. They are all dressed in
dark, loose fitting robes with hoods drawn over their heads. All are
heavily armed.

Assaf sits tall in his horse, measuring the riders, "Halt, identify
yourselves" he says, not even getting his hand close to the Scimitar, sure
that they won't try to attack not in his own camp.

Haroon looks over at Assaf with a slightly sad look as he lowers his
oil-lenses and sets a hand on the scabbard of his sword. "We do the right
thing.. I hope." He raises an eyebrow in question, and his gaze takes in
the ranks of troops, cavalry and the now destroyed landscape that shimmers
in the desert heat. A once proud land has been ruined by the ebb and flow
of combat - and the slash and burn retreat of the Harkonnen troops.

The prayer continues, though in a hushed whisper, the men finish one
rakaht and rise, moving forward to allow the first rank to pray without
fear, after all, a Muslim should never turn his back to an enemy.

Haroon shoots a glance at the weaponsmaster "Who are these men?" he asks,
taking in the riders approaching
The lead rider pulls back his hood, revealing an all too familiar face.

Using Amat, Sin'Vaari grins and says, "And I thought I was hated back on
New Andropolis....."

On the Battlefield, The ranks of Bajazet troops begin to line up in two
rows along the battle field, one row faces forward, on vigilant watch for
the enemy, while the other kneels upon worn prayer rugs and begin this
prayer chanting, "Wa ash hadu an la illaha ill Allah wa ash hadu
Mohommedan Rasul Allah." Placing their hands over their ears they then
chant "Allaah-O-Akbar!"

On the Battlefield, The prayer continues, though in a hushed whisper, the
men finish one rakaht and rise, moving forward to allow the first rank to
pray without fear, after all, a Muslim should never turn his back to an
enemy.

Sin'Vaari's companions remove their hoods and form a line behind their
master.
Assaf moves aligns his horse next to Sin'Vaari's, "Rivest, it's been too
long." He answeres and then rides towards Haroon.
Sin'Vaari follows Assaf at a short distance.

On the Battlefield, the landscape is harsh. Two years of fighting have
pockmarked the ground with the scars of shellfire and the Bajazet palace
is drifting smoke from bombing runs and neglect. Half of the city of
Erzarum around it is enslaved, the other half are pale shadows of their
former selves. In the distance the sky is blackened from the smoke of a
thousand fires in settlements in the deeper desert.

Fittstim rides over to his own men behind him and says a few words, then
rejoins Haroon and the rest.
Assaf nods towards Haroon from his seat on a mighty warhorse, "My Lord, It
seems that House Rivest has sent help to the war effort."

Sin'Vaari grins at the word 'help'.

Fittstim sighs, "We can use all the assistance we can get, I believe."
Haroon swings around in the saddle and gives Rivest a shocked
look. "You?" he says sharply and puts his hands on his hips "Well I'll be
damned by Shaitain. You've improved your timing eh Rivest?" he says with a
grin creeping onto his face

Assaf bursts into laughter and pats Rivest on the back, "It has been too
long old friend. Today is the day we crush them, once and for all."

The Suk Doctor busies himself over at the medical tent, checking that all
is in order. His normally joyful expression is replaced by that of sorrow
and deep regret for what killing he knows must go on here today. The faint
crackle of a transmission can be heard echoing from the tent, probably
just an equipment test.
Sin'Vaari leans forward in his saddle and winks at Haroon,
"Apparently. Although I wouldn't call what I brought with me help....."

Assaf eyes the other seven riders, "It's not quite a number but you alone
is help enough."

Haroon glances across at the battlefield and back to the disgraced
swordmaster. "Your right arm will be support enough." He looks him up and
down again with a smile, albeit a fiery one. "I cannot say I am suprised
to see you here."

Sin'Vaari's eyebrows rise as he says, "And why is that?" His followers,
sensing his rising temper, look about the camp nervously.

Haroon grins and makes a placatory gesture with his hand "Patience
champion. Because this may be the last chance to kill Harkonnen"

Sin'Vaari nods and leans back in his saddle replying, "Very
well......Regent."
Fittstim grins, confidence on his face, "So we should take this chance and
wipe them off Malarca!"

Sin'Vaari looks at Fittstim and says, "And just who might this be?"

Assaf leaves the group and returns to his place on the hill, watching the
battlefield with intent.


Bajazet Encampment -- Erzurum (Malarca Secundus)(#2612RVtJu)
The Bajazet camp has been hastily set up on a steep incline overlooking
the basin below. Three tents have been erected in a triangle, one with a
fold-out map table set up in front. Another houses communications
equipment and radio officers in Bajazet field-dress hunched over radio
equipment, and the third is a medical tent which stands out in white. Two
ornithopters are landed to the left with their thin wings tethered down
against the wind into arches touching the ground and to the right of the
tents is a small corral of horses attended to by soldiers in Janissarie
uniforms. A small group of officers is gathered around the map table
holding radio-pieces and oil lenses to survey the battlefield.
Players:
 Assaf                                 Sin'Vaari                             
 Fittstim                              Umar                                  
 Haroon                               
Exits:
 North <N> leads to Battlefield -- Erzurum (Malarca Secundus)


Fittstim says, "I am the Weaponsmaster Fittstim Kelly, sir, and who are
you?"

Sin'Vaari looks at Fittstim for a moment, and after a moment of silence
says, "I am Lord Sin'Vaari Rivest, prior Swordmaster and formerly Lord of
the now deadHouse Rivest."

Sin'Vaari continues after a few seconds, "And other things....not worth
mentioning at the moment."

Assaf shouts from afar, "Lover of a Harkonnen, and other things, not worth
mentioning at the moment."

Fittstim half-smiles at Assaf's comment.

Sin'Vaari turns his head to Assaf, his eyes widening with rage as he
instinctively reaches for a scimitar.

Haroon shoots a glance between the Commandant and the swordmaster. "There
is time for that /later/" he growls in a deep voice. "Rivest, control your
temper for the battlefield, Kuppershmid.. control your tongue" Neither
statement is delivered unkindly, but clearly the Regents mind is on the
battle ahead - not an impending one within his ranks

Assaf laughs, "Calm down Rivest! Take your rage on them, you won't find me
as easy a target as you did the last time we tried."

Fittstim , his smile disappearing, mutters "indeed."

Sin'Vaari turns to Haroon for a moment, then turns to Assaf and replies
with anger, "And you shall not find me such a merciful man as I was when I
put you on your rear the last time."

Assaf doesn't answer and returns his gaze to the battlefield, probably
deciding that the time for jests is over, for now.

Sin'Vaari turns his horse and looks onto the field, his companions doing
likewise as he begins to speak with them in a low voice.

Haroon sits calmly in the saddle, arms folded on his
chest. "Gentlemen.. are your men ready?" He looks to
Sin'Vaari. "Swordmaster.. fight by my side."

Fittstim nods slowly, his attention on the battlefield.
Sin'Vaari returns Haroon's look and replies, "On one condition, Regent."

Sin'Vaari continues, "And I believe you know what it is."

Haroon shakes his head "No. Enlighten me."

Haroon speaks into his communicator.

Over your communicator's secure frequency, a man's voice says, "All ground
troops this is the Regent. Prepare to commence the attack. May Allah have
mercy on our souls"

Sin'Vaari says, "The Whore, Regent. My sources tell me she is here. I will
fight with you, and I shall kill everything within my path.....but if she
is here and she is captured.....she is mine."

On the Battlefield, Rhedek heads north toward the bunker.

Haroon considers this "A fitting punishment for her.. before she
/dies/" he says meaningfully, and checks that the swordmaster understands
him. He raises an eyebrow. "Very well.. now let us fight and prove that we
are not the whipping dogs of a bloated fool and his corpulent whores"

Sin'Vaari grins and turns his attention to the field.

Fittstim grins and says, "Amen, Regent."

On the Battlefield, Hamilcar heads north toward the bunker.

On the Battlefield, standards wave among the Bajazet troops as messages
are conveyed. The ranks of men ready themselves. Behind them groups of
colourfully uniformed cavalry wheel into line, racing around the flank of
the attack rifles and lances held out at port arms.

Over your communicator's secure frequency, a man's voice says, "All ship
security teams, get ready to be boarded. I repeat, power up weapons and
shoot on sight, get ready to be boarded."

On the Battlefield, The shimmer of shields and the sound of steel scraping
against freshly oiled leather can bear heard and seen as the ranks of
Bajazet troops almost as one ready themselves to begind their forward
charge. "Bajazet Akbar!" shout the men at the front lines, the sentiment
of this echoes from the front of the line to the back like a thunderous
wave of sound. The men now charge forward with gleaming scimitars raised
and maula pistols drawn.

On the Battlefield, The Bajazet troops move forwards, their robes and
banners flapping in the desert wind. A chanting goes up from the ranks and
spears are waved overhead. On the flanks a ragtag regiment of guerillas
and partisans run forwards across the ground, heads down against the wind
and defensive fire

Assaf suddenly hits his warhorse on the back and starts to gallop towards
the cliffs around that tower around the battlefield.

Sin'Vaari takes out a schope from within his robes and looks to the
Harkonnen bunker.

Fittstim follows the Commandant and signals his men.
Sin'Vaari looks sharply at Assaf leave, then turns his gaze back to the
Harkonnen.
Over your communicator's secure frequency, a man's voice says, "Ground
control, we are boarded. Enemy on the bridge.. *Chzzzkkk-silence*"

On the Battlefield, Fittstim enters from the south.

On the Battlefield, Haroon enters from the south.

On the Battlefield, Fittstim grins at the commandant and arms himself.

On the Battlefield, A Bajazet cavalry group spur down from the
cliffside. The Banner of the old Sultan is unfurled above them and their
markings show them as the personal guard of the Regent.

On the Battlefield, Rhedek enters from the north.

On the Battlefield, Hamilcar enters from the north.

On the Battlefield, Sin'Vaari enters from the south.

On the Battlefield, Jordan enters from the north.

On the Battlefield, A regiment of heavily armed Jannissary cavalry
approaches from the south.

On the Battlefield, Sin'Vaari comes down from the Bajazet encampment,
scimitars drawn and followed by seven black-robed warriors.

On the Battlefield, 
        In waves about the ancient, blasted fortress trenches have been
dug into the sandy earth; the glittering of shields can be seen there,
distorting the very air about the men encased within them as the burning
sun does upon the horizon. Death awaits the approaching Bajazet there in
the form of a legion of gleaming maula carbines - and with a sudden shout
of near-bestial ferocity lifted to the air the sounds of darts whistling
through the air in legion shatters the relative quiet of the field.


On the Battlefield, Another smaller rank of Bajazet infantry form up on
the field, evidently late arrivals. One grove stands forward, shields
active and weapons drawn. Their wary gazes survey what they can see of the
enemy position. The second row of this rank drop to their knees, muttering
ferverent prayers, though these prayers be not for their own salvation,
but that they may grant their enemy a quick and merciful death. The prayer
finishes and the rank moves forward to join their bertheren in the charge.

On the Battlefield, Hamilcar says as he looks out and says to himself,
"May by I should have tried to bribe some Sardaukar instead of bribing
that noble." He activates his shield and his brings forth his sword and
slow pellet stunner.

On the Battlefield, Overhead a flight of Bajazet thopters breaks off from
their circle pattern and head towards the palace. Missiles drop from their
wings in a cloud of smoke and race away towards one of its upper domes,
blowing chunks out of the roof. Presumably the Bajazet have abandoned any
plans to preserve archictecture...

On the Battlefield, Fittstim reaches to activate his shield but hesitates
for an order.

On the Battlefield, A small platoon of Jannisarie forces follow Assaf and
climb up the cliffs in the edge of the battlefield. Once on the cliff they
make their way to a good observation spot, waiting for the right moment.

On the Battlefield, Fittstim follows Assaf, his forces accompanying
Assaf's.

On the Battlefield, 
        And eve behind these trenches to a wall of Feldwehr men approach,
their long-swords and kindjals drawn and glittering in the light. With a
mighty cry upon their lips this wave too surges foreward, the words
'Harkonnen Invictus!" boiling from their heat-cracked lips and their
blades held high and shining over them.

        Let the last battle of this tortuous war begin.

On the Battlefield, Hamilcar raises his sword high.

On the Battlefield, Jordan just shakes his head as his shield goes up
after finishing the cigarette he was smokeing. Moveing to one to the
trenches quickly to then level his Carbine and watches the on comeing
Bajazets seeming ready and waitting for the right time to fire.

On the Battlefield, Shields glisten and crackle as the darts hit them,
adding even more rippling distortion to the view, compounded by the
heat. A smell of ozone drifts through the air and smoke from the palace
billows out, covering the ground.

On the Battlefield, Sin'Vaari's eyes lock onto Hamilcar. He and his seven
followers turn and start riding directly towards him.

On the Battlefield, The Jannisary forces behind the Commandant's rush to
the front, scimitars and long knives drawn and ready.

On the Battlefield, The Bajazet cavalry activate their saddle shields and
hemispheres of pale light slowly stretch down around them as they continue
their charge

On the Battlefield, Hamilcar smiles as he he injects a stimulate and
strength enhancer in to his arm. He starts to shake as the take affect he
laughs. He says to Rhedek, "Its been a pleasure to serve with you, sir."


You look out onto the battlefield and see...

        The valley floor is bordered on one side by a steep cliff of red
sandstone with darker, purple stripes and undulating shadows and a small
CAVE, and on the other side by a wide, flat RIVERBED that winds like a
pale ribbon along a boulder-strewn course. The field is relatively flat,
hardpacked earth scorched to a barren dusty plain by the hot sun.
        At the north end of the field a low bunker surrounded by boulders
and black slate is half-sunk into the ground. The cliff juts out here, and
the bunker effectively cuts off access to the city of Erzurum beyond,
forcing unwelcome guests to by-pass the main road and go around the long
way. At the south end of the plain, near the mouth of the canyon, brightly
colored tents have been erected and horses corraled beside make-shift
ornithopter pads. 
        Overhead, the sky is a deep blue and a the silvery crescent of
Malarca Prime hangs heavy on the horizon. The air is hot and dry and there
isn't a green tree or bush in sight. The shimmering mirage of the Palace
sits atop the cliff with gold onion domes gleaming in the sunlight.

Players:
 Assaf                                 Jordan                                
 Fittstim                              Rhedek                                
 Hamilcar                              Sin'Vaari                             
 Haroon                               


On the Battlefield, 
        Let the entire fortress shatter and fall to pebbles all about them
- the grand order of the grim, dark Ram will never cease their
advance. From the bunker beneath the beleaguered castle's smoking walls
comes a man clad in the night-black carapace of armor, his helm a grinning
death's-head made from the skull of a long-dead ram; in one hand he holds
a gleaming long-sword, and in the other a maula gun. "Fare thee well, my
friend," the big man rumbles through his helm and shimmering shield, "Let
us all be known in Hell as the fiercest warriors the Devil Himself has yet
to see. Onward!"

On the Battlefield, Assaf notices a soft spot in the Harkonnen line and
yells the charge command. The Jannisarie troops with him turn their
shields on as they run forward, he waits for a second and then turns his
saddle shield on, galloping on the mighty warhorse charging the Harkonnen
lines.

On the Battlefield, Hamilcar shouts, "Long live the Baron!" and follows
Rhedek.

On the Battlefield, The Bajazet cavalry reach the trenches first,
thrusting their lances down at the troops milling beneath them. A horse
rears up throwing its rider from the saddle as a defenders blade gashes
its belly open and another drops over to one side, tipping its rider over
its head and down into the trench with an anguished scream

On the Battlefield, Jordan opens fire now aimming to drop the now closest
of the Bajzets to him. He then cesases fire and begins to move and yell at
those in the trnech near him for shift to cover the now weakend
areas. Jordan does not spare much time for it as he hears the charge from
the cliffs and takes aim on the lead horses of that charge as his shield
does seem to suffer a few hits.

On the Battlefield, 
        The 'softness' in the line is not noticed by the Colonel - not at
first, that is. For as he charges forth on foot, his plates agleam in the
sun, he barks the order for the riflemen to drop their guns and reach for
naked blades already stuffed in the earth ready for battle. As the
Bajazets move to overcome the trenches and those fresh-dug pits begin to
run with Harkonnen blood the riflemen are upon them, sabres and kindjals
upthrust in search of Bajazet flesh or the white bellies of their
chargers.

On the Battlefield, Assaf notices Jordan only after his shield gets his a
couple of time from his gun. Assaf now rides towards Jordan, his Scimitar
in the air and aimed at his new target.

On the Battlefield, Sin'Vaari rushes his horse to Hamilcar, closing the
distance quickly as he lets out a blood-curdling roar.

On the Battlefield, A small number of men emerge from a small tent in the
Bajazet encampment. Garbbed in long hooded cloaks of the deepest green,
these men are those that have survived the holy pilgrimage into the
deepest of the western desert- these are the men that have touched the
holy stone and lived to tell. Only one thing can these men be, the Mamluk
guards of the Baron Sha'ara'diin. Their hoods fall back and long gleaming
knives appear from beneath the deep folds of their robes. The warm glow of
a personal shield shimmers about each of the warriors, their eyes filled
with untold rage, they rush forward upon the battle field. You know with
certainty that these men will not flinch, they exsist now with a singular
purpose, to extinguish the flame of those that slaughtered their Baron.

On the Battlefield, Haroon wheels his horse to a halt watching the battle
unfold before him, with a mad gleam in his eyes. His standard bearer halts
by his side waving the Baron's tugrah aloft. Perhaps righteousness makes
the pair impervious, for neither flinch as a piece of shrapnel flies above
his head. He cups his gloved hands around his mouth and roars, his voice
carrying easily over the smoke. "Death to the infidels. Allah will protect
our souls." He unsheaths his scimitar in a flash of steel in the light and
spurs forwards, low in the saddle.

On the Battlefield, Jordan fires a few more shots before he slings the
carbine and grabs up his Sabre and usnhers toehr about him to follow suit
and makes a foot dash at the charging horses as he closes to the first
house near him and drops to one knee and shoves the sabre at the horses
foreward belly useing both hands and arms, despite the blood now running
from his left arm
On the Battlefield, Hamilcar sees the horse charging. He fires off a
couple of rounds from his slow pellet stunner. Quicklyhe ducks as a
Bajazet swings a sword at his neck. He raises back up and slamms his into
the other man's belly. He looks back up and stills sees Sin'Vaari charging
for him. He yells, "Come and get me you damn towl heads!"

On the Battlefield, Assaf jumps off his horse in order to face Jordan on
the floor, his personal shield now on, "Harkonnen, prepare to die!"
On the Battlefield, 
        /Allah will see you all in his palace tonight,/ thinks the Colonel
grimly as he steps into the surging Bajazet line; into the mix with his
own men goes he, his maula gun discarded and the long-sword's pommel
gripped with both gauntleted hands; around and around he swings that fine,
long razor, each sweep of the gleaming blade dousing inches and inches of
its length with rich crimson blood - the many years that have seen him
through battle are now solidified in this moment, and the Dragon of
Sibirsk now surges as a pinwheel of death skull-faced and fearless through
the Bajazet lines.

On the Battlefield, Sin'Vaari stops his horse a short distance before
reaching Hamilcar. He dismounts and walks slowly to him, both hands
holding scimitars as his mouth forms an evil looking grin.

On the Battlefield, Jordan pulls the Sabre from the now downed horse and
growls lowly at Assaf as there appears much fighting about them
both. Jordan Stands up right fully and looks at Assaf through the gleam of
his shield and Assafs "I accept death in my duty, do you?" with that
Jordan steps in close to Assaf and lashes out with the Sabre in a cut from
the left and going low.

On the Battlefield, The ornithopters spin round again, wings beating for
height as they barrel through the smoke over the harkonnen lines. Tiny
bomblets are dropped from their undercarriages causing neat lines of
explosions to race along the Harkonnen trenches casting bodies and debris
up into the air

On the Battlefield, Hamilcar smiles, "Come on turban boy!" He makes an
obscene gesture with his hand on his groin, "I got Allah right, sweety
pie! " He drops to the ground and rolls to the left firing of his slow
pellet stunner.

On the Battlefield, Assaf blocks the cut and turns to slash from the
right, "Death is an old friend by now, Harkonnen, even older than you."

On the Battlefield, The green clad men upon finding their first pocket of
Harkonnen resistance waste no time in slaying them. The glimmer of
polished steel flashes in the light of the glaring sun as the Mamluk
guardians set to the task of slaying their quarry. The men are quick and
waste no time with elaborate oaths and shouting, they simply press ever
forward, even as the darts fly at them and some of their number fall.

On the Battlefield, Sin'Vaari bursts into action, dropping to the ground
and rolling under Hamilcar's fired pellet. He comes out of his roll and
immediately leaps into the air, his foot kicking out at Hamilcar's head.
On the Battlefield, 
        As some duel one-on-one upon the burning sands the legions are in
the fray, turban and polished helm mixing in a sea of carnage as the two
Houses clash in mortal combat. Even as the cluster-bombs fill the trenches
with ruined corpses and fill the air with smoke and spinning gore the
lines do not flinch, do not cease - it is as if the certainty of slaughter
has made the Harkonnen lines a sea of monsters far removed from mortal
men.

        After all, it has long been said that the fear of death is all
that makes us human.

On the Battlefield, The Regents guard and retainers hit the Harkonnen line
in a crash of steel that resounds around the battlefield. Haroon rears his
horse over the Harkonnen infantry with his knees and hacks down from side
to side. He looks around, struggling to move his horse forwards through
the throng as he heads for the Harkonnen colonel.

On the Battlefield, Hamilcar stands up out of his roll just as the kick
knocks his head back with a crack of teeth being knocked loose. He falls
on his back and thrusts upward at Sin'Vaari's thigh.
On the Battlefield, Sin'Vaari's followers don't even bother dismounting as
they wade through a platoon of Harkonnen. Their scimitar's flash quickly
as one after the other falls to the ground.

On the Battlefield, Jordan's slash is blocked and his sabre pushed wide as
he steps into the attack from assaf hopeing to make the attack too fast to
pentrate the shiled as he reverses his blade to cut in point first at
Assas's open side now.

On the Battlefield, A pair of carryalls lumber over the surrounding cliffs
escorted by a flight of thopters. Their flanks have been spray painted
with Harkonnen and Bajazet logos indiscriminately, having changed
ownership more than once since the conflict began. On the tail of one can
just be made out the logo of the Moritani Spice Mining contract

On the Battlefield, 
        But what is this? With a sound of splitting bone a Mamluk's curved
sword snakes forth to strike the side of the Colonel's helm, and the horn
of his grim death mask pinwheels into the fighting ranks - another strike
sends the veil in pieces, half a goat's skull gone to reveal the man's
face drawn up in a rictus of savage battle-lust. Behind the metaglass wall
that holds the helmet's seal the big man is near foaming, and now the
touch of the sun on his face has only fueled his zeal for war.

        As the Bajazet warmaster approaches him he saws through four
Mamluk guards who assail him, their blades pounting against their shields
- one has bitten through, and buried itself into his armored
back. Carapace cracks...chips...and with a spinning, muted roar the
scimitar is shattered, its broad point buried in the man's black carapace
as he rams the naked kindjal into the black-robed zealot's eye.

On the Battlefield, Assaf evades the cut by rolling to the side and
jumping to his feet quickly, taking the advantage of being on the side he
moves the scimitar slowly to enter Jordan's shield.

On the Battlefield, Sin'Vaari blocks Hamilcar's wild thrust with a
scimitar, landing with the grace of a jungle cat.

On the Battlefield, Hamilcar sees the Carryall with the Moritani Spice
Minning logo on it and says, "Hey look, thats might be one of my brother's
carryalls." as he tries to distract Sin'Vaari. He springs to his feet and
fires off another round of the slow pellet stunner and yells, "After this
I am going to make you squeel like a pig, boy!"

On the Battlefield, Jordan twists his body and tries to bring his blade in
to block the now intrudeing Scimitar as it pushes through his
shield. Jordan grimices and just leans into the attack now pushing his own
blade into Assaf Shield "I will die serving my baron, but I will not let
you take me easily." Once Assaf's blade starts to enter his body Jordan
pushes harder trying to repay Assaf in kind "Die now you Son of a whore!"

On the Battlefield, Sin'Vaari rolls left as Hamilcar fires, he then rushes
in swiftly and lashes out at him with both scimitars.

On the Battlefield, Haroon leans from the saddle, firing a maula pistol
point blank into the crowd around him. A volley of shots clip through the
Bajazet standard beside him, ripping it into shreds as his guards head
forwards trying to form a protective knot around him. But the Regent
outstrips their progress as he throws himself and his steed towards the
Colonel, clearing the last man between them and levelling a strike
directly at the mans twisted face.

On the Battlefield, Assaf screams as he gets cut by Jordan's sword in his
lower torso, it seems he's losing a lot of blood. He takes his sword out
of Jordan's body and watches him die. He then calls his horse and mounts
it with some trouble, striding towards the Bajazet line, his horse
suddenly falls into a trench and thus throwing Assaf off of it. Three
Harkonnen soldeirs follow into the trench. After a couple of minutes a
scream of pain is heard from the trench and then another one. After a
short while, two Harkonnen troops leave the trench and resume fighting.

On the Battlefield, Hamilcar deflects one of the scimitars with his sword
and tries to dodge the other but moves to slowly and gets hit in the
flank. He pulls free and aims at Sin'Vaar's feet with a sweep.

On the Battlefield, On the flanks of the attack the Bajazet partisans
stream down from the cliffs in a black horde. Their eyes are dark with a
year of injustices and grievances. A holy fury at the infidels who have
ravaged their planet and a fury which none on the Harkonnen side could
match. A turbanned man ducks low, tumbling his assailant over his head
where another slices him neatly in the throat. The crowd presses forwards
striving to add to the blood which has already coated the desert floor.

On the Battlefield, Jordan Is neatly impaled by assaf, but does smile
knwoing he scored a good blow to Assaf too as he falsl to the ground dead.

On the Battlefield, 
        In an instant, the Colonel's field of vision explodes in a cloud
of hairline cracks - the metaglass, meant to hold in precious air should
the Bajazet use any sort of chemical poison on the battlefield, now holds
in check the flashing swordpoint of the Bajazet regent. With a snarl the
towering Harkonnen lunges back, his size no impediment to years of
practiced battle-grace, and roaring he rips the ruined helm from its
pressure collar to throw upon the sands.

        "Will you strike at me so cravenly, O self-styled servant of
God?" This taunt flies from his tongue as acrid venom, caustic and
hot. "Stand you down from your horse, sir, and I will see thee duel with
me by right of war." This said, the years of esprit de corps subsides his
savagery long enough for him to snap salute, the flat of his gore-stained
sword resting at his brow for but a moment; and then it is time, his the
blade held ready in both armored hands, and a swath of blood sponged upon
his brow. "Come then, Bajazet. I am ready!"

On the Battlefield, Sin'Vaari hops up to avoid Hamilcar's sweep and brings
a scimitar down upon him, arching it straight for Hamilcar's head.

On the Battlefield, 
        Out of the trenches they boil, the last of the riflemen - from the
very start they knew themselves to be doomed, and thus they fight with a
bestial urge that nearly matches the conviction of the Bajazet -
nearly. Even with the scant few weeks of conditioning and drills the
stalwart Dragon has given them they are no match for the Bajazet advance,
and as the moments pass the Harkonnen wall is thinned, layer after layer,
in a hail of screams and gore.

On the Battlefield, Hamilcar rolls out of the way and swings a seal kick
at the Sin'Vaari hoping to hit something. He knows he is out matched and
he screams, "Long live the Baron Harkonnen and House Moritani! Ah, I wet
my self!" He swings wildy at Sin'Vaari in a last effort attempt.

On the Battlefield, The soldier-fanatics of the Baron Sha'ara'diin press
forward their attack, not stopping, nor flinching even as they take upon
themselves wounds that would be grevious to most- the only succor for
these men is their single minded purpose which they still pursue with
fervor. They cut through a small knot of Harkonnen regulars efortlessly.

On the Battlefield, Sin'Vaari blocks Hamilcar's sword from his hand with a
block. Looking at him in silence for a moment, he swiftly turns on heel
and buries a scimitar into Hamilcar's chest. As his body falls to the
ground, Sin'Vaari rushes into the battle, becoming lost in the crowd of
Harkonnen and Bajazet soldiers.

On the Battlefield, Hamilcar stiffens as the blade enters him. Blood
gushes from the wound and his mouth. He starts to cough up blood. As he
starts to pass out he manages to say something, "Should have practiced
more." His head falls, and he starts to twitch, then he lays still. Dead
at last.

On the Battlefield, Haroon points the scimitar levelly at Rhedek's head as
his face reddens. A Harkonnen soldier tries to lunge at him but he doesn't
flinch as one of his guards neatly impales the man in the middle of his
trajectory. "Spare me your talk of honour /Harkonnen/" He spits on the
ground, stepping his horse forwards. The sun is setting behind him already
and his shadow casts down over Rhedek masking his expression. "You are
already dead." With that he digs his heels into his steeds flanks and
lunges forwards trying to topple over the man through weight alone.

On the Battlefield, 
        "I am only dead when I fall, man," he calls, rolling to the right
- skill guides his hand as well as the horse's load of strength-enhancer
boiling through his blood. Across the sand he goes, his sword arm
swinging, and like a guillotine the blade sweeps through and slices off
the forelegs of the surging charger in a lopsided downswing, white flesh
spurting blood and the high-pitched scream of the wounded equine splitting
the air as it tumbles toward the earth.

On the Battlefield, Haroon tumbles forwards out of the saddle and lets go
of his sword in mid-air. He tucks his arms by his side and hits the ground
hard, rolling forwards and to his feet. He sways a little uncertainly and
reaches to his belt for a pistol, the wind knocked out of him. The
standard-bearer swings his charge round uses his lance to crack Rhedek
across the back of the knees, dropping him to the ground and giving him
time to throw a scimitar through the air at the Regent.

Haroon wipes blood from his eyes and looks at his horse lying twitching
and snorting between him and the Harkonnen. He whispers something under
his breath that gets carried away in the wind, and aims his pistol at the
horse's temple firing a single shot. He regards Rhedek calmly. "You made
me kill my Horse" he says slowly and stoops down to pick up the sword
thrown to him.

On the Battlefield, The Bajazet fanatics once more scout for worthy prey,
they find it in the men nearest Colonel Rhedek, they advance rapidly-
guided by swift legs and a great number of years fighting in desert
terrain. "We shall not falter, for we fight in the name of Al-Qahhaar- the
One who has subdued all creation, the compasionate, the merciful," shout
the Mamluk guardians as they surge forward with savage intensity.

On the Battlefield, 
        Now, around the two combatants the Bajazets are clearly winning,
obliterating the lines - grinning amidst the carnage is the Colonel, the
blood spouted upon him from combat now coating with sand. "Wasted
ammunition!" he calls, his smile like that of the death's head mask that
clad his face, "You should have let it bleed to death - I expect you to do
the same in just a moment now!" With that he surges foreward, the flashing
guillotine in his hands sweeping toward the core of this nimbus of
black-clad zealots; Haroon is the poisonous eye of this storm, and if he
can bring him down it will ring as thunder throughought the ranks.

On the Battlefield, soldiers meet amid smoke and blood to face death as
adversaries or as brothers. The numbers are unequal, at least two Bajazet
for every Harkonnen, but the Harkonnen were ordered to hold the line and
that's what they'll do, down to the last man. Blade meets blade, clashing,
severing limbs and men from their lives. The noise is almost unbearable,
explosions and screaming, and the sound of 'thopters passing overhead.

On the Battlefield, Haroon crouches low under Rhedek's blade letting the
man's momentum carry him past him, as he spins round low to the ground and
rises behind the colonel. He slashes out and wedges his sword deep into
the armour on the man's back. He strains to free the blade pulling
backwards and nearly unbalancing himself in the process. His retainers
form a knot around him, lances pointing in towards the combat as they
watch impassively. Jeers cry out from them in Amat.. it is clear that they
will not watch the Regent lose, but will not intervene in his victory.

On the Battlefield, Overhead the Ornithopters swing round making another
pass. Flames lick out from their guns picking off Harkonnen running on the
ground and sending bodies cartwheeling across the dirt and landing in
sodden twisted heaps.

On the Battlefield, amid the burning of flesh and the haze that covers the
battlefield, the arrow-like beams of lasguns slash through the smoke,
almost randomly it seems. Every so often a body shield is hit and the
darkness is lit up with sparks and a blood-curdling scream and an
explosion that takes out everyone nearby.

On the Battlefield, The green grabbed men arrive just in time to supliment
the Regent's retainers. Blades still dripping with the lifeblood of many a
fallen foe they make a point of not interfering in the Regents battle,
though six of the men remain behind, just incase the Regent should take a
grevious wound. The main body of these green robbed zealots however
occupies itself with slaying the Harkonnen- what little of them that
remains at any rate.

On the Battlefield, 
        Bloodied, but not staggered, the Colonel brings his blade into a
scything slash - the Regent, as skilled as he is, will have to be near
godlike in dexterity to avoid being sliced himself. The power of his
drugged muscles is like the trunk-like muscles of the charging klevek. We
shall see who stands and falls.

On the Battlefield, Haroon pushes from his back foot, blade held
vertically before him to catch the force of the blow with a resounding
clang and a shower of sparks. His momentum carries the pair backwards and
the horseman back away opening a gap in the circle. The Regent grunts as
his arms shake from the force of the impact and he regards the sizeable
chink in his blade.

On the Battlefield, it seems that it's just a matter of mopping up as the
Bajazet soldiers hunt down and kill the remaining Harkonnen troops, who
continue to battle down to the last man. Explosions, flashes of light,
screams...it all moves in slow motion as the bodies fall to the ground in
blood and dirt.

On the Battlefield, Carrion circle along with the ornithopters, wheeling
down onto the battlefield. One lands on a Harkonnen corpse and tips its
head down, pecking at the man's eyes. It looks up and around, taking off
again with a screech as an explosion lands nearby.

On the Battlefield, 
        From the foremost part of his gauntlet a stabbing-blade springs
forth, a razored length of notched steel agleam in the smoke-wreathed
sunlight. "Your blade cracks," the big man roars, "How unfortunate for
you, Regent. Now let us finish this for true." And with that he lunges
foreward in a lopsided scissor strike, the long blade of his sword
descending at one angle while the arm-blade rockets forth at another -
paired death, borne by the mammoth's strength within him, seeking Haroon's
flesh with the earnest grace of the hunting beast.




On the Battlefield, Sargon is about to join your location.

On the Battlefield, Haroon twists his body towards the attack trying to
pick up speed into the impact and let his shield take the blow. He swings
his arm down catching the long blade and fracturing his own. A shard flies
off, spinning through the air and fizzing off the shield of one of the
surrounding horses. His plan works, but not well enough and the arm-blade
eases his through his shield, cutting through his left-shoulder and
leaving a ragged hole in his arm - white bone contrasting against the
blood and the black tunic. Particularly Bajazet colours, although the
effect seems to go unnoticed.

On the Battlefield, Haroon gasps in pain and clutches at Rhedek's armour
with the fingers of his wounded arm. He raises the hilt of his broken
sword and tries to bring it down on the man's head.

On the Battlefield, 
        It is only a few moments before the Bajazets are upon him, their
lances with their leaf-shaped blades stabbing forth in a wall of deadly
quills - quills that pierce the Colonel's trusty carapace armor,
shattering the wearied plates and sliding in a mass into his massive
torso. "Do you feel it, Regent?" Blood spatters from his lips as the
lances sink home, the drugs in his body killing pain and giving strength
stain his own bodily ichor a deep black, "Do you feel the sting of your
defeat?" Falling to one knee then, his body begins to succumb to
shock...like a bull in the ring brought down by the matador's spear. The
last moments of consciousness are a flow of ink, pouring from his mind
even as the blood courses from around the shafts of the quintet of lances
in his back - and all he can do is grin and whisper two last words before
the moment takes him:

        "Harkonnen....Invictus...." rumbles the Dragon before his world
spins away to the black.

On the Battlefield, A strange small purple scar opens across the sky as if
to mark the swordmaster's victory, if it is in fact a victory. It boils
and shimmers inexplicably.

On the Battlefield, Haroon rocks on his feet slightly and reaches out a
hand to push away the spears of the cavalry. "Leave this one to live." he
says, gasping slightly for air and putting a hand to his shoulder. His
fingers touch bone and he winces. "He will not have the honour of the last
word." One of his guards vaults down from his horse and offers the Regent
a hand, helping him up into the saddle. His bloody fingers take the reigns
in one hand and he steers it towards the bunker accompanied by the rest of
his men.

On the Battlefield, A strange small purple scar opens across the sky as if
to mark the swordmaster's victory, if it is in fact a victory. It boils
and shimmers inexplicably.

On the Battlefield, The Bajazet troops are already moving along their dead
and wounded, leaning down and giving aid, or closing their eyes - if they
have any - as appropriate. A mournful chanting begins to rise from parts
of the field, its volume rising and falling in the wind.

On the Battlefield, Haroon's guards close the distance to the bunker
gathered tightly around their leader. One sets a detpack at the entrance
and backs away around its side ducking down and covering his eyes and
ears. There is a dull crump and a cloud of dust billows away from the
opening. Haroon stares into the darkness and activates his body shield.
On the Battlefield, Haroon heads north toward the bunker.




Battlefield -- Erzurum (Malarca Secundus)

        The valley floor is bordered on one side by a steep cliff of red
sandstone with darker, purple stripes and undulating shadows and a small
CAVE, and on the other side by a wide, flat RIVERBED that winds like a
pale ribbon along a boulder-strewn course. The field is relatively flat,
hardpacked earth scorched to a barren dusty plain by the hot sun.
        At the north end of the field a low bunker surrounded by boulders
and black slate is half-sunk into the ground. The cliff juts out here, and
the bunker effectively cuts off access to the city of Erzurum beyond,
forcing unwelcome guests to by-pass the main road and go around the long
way. At the south end of the plain, near the mouth of the canyon, brightly
colored tents have been erected and horses corraled beside make-shift
ornithopter pads. 
        Overhead, the sky is a deep blue and a the silvery crescent of
Malarca Prime hangs heavy on the horizon. The air is hot and dry and there
isn't a green tree or bush in sight. The shimmering mirage of the Palace
sits atop the cliff with gold onion domes gleaming in the sunlight.

Players:
 Azim                                  Sargon                                
 Hamilcar                              Sen                                   
 Rhedek                               
Exits:
 North <N> leads to Harkonnen Bunker -- Erzurum (Malarca Secundus) 
 South <S> leads to Bajazet Encampment -- Erzurum (Malarca Secundus)



Harkonnen Bunker -- Erzurum (Malarca Secundus)

        Built of native sandstone almost two feet thick and heavily
fortified with boulders, this long, low building is set half-way into the
ground and has only a few small openings overlooking the battlefield. The
windows are large enough for several weapons to be fired through and the
door is sheltered on the outside by a slab of black slate positioned at an
angle. The floor is packed earth and the walls have been hastily
white-washed. There is not much in the way of phsyical comforts in the
bunker.
        A MAP TABLE and six folding chairs are situated near the lift door
and, at the opposite end, six FOLDING COTS are meagre provision for a few
lucky wounded. The rest of the wounded are lined up on tarps beside the
battlefield. Manacles on short lengths of chain are imbedded into the rock
wall and the questioning of prisoners is aided by a variety of devices
that hang on nails nearby. There is a strong odor of stale food and sweat
that is only relieved by the occasional gust of wind that comes in from
the desert.

Players:
 Azim                                  Haroon                                
 Etta                                  Schreck                              
Exits:
 Lift <U> leads to Terrace -- Erzurum Palace (Malarca Secundus) 
 South <S> leads to Battlefield -- Erzurum (Malarca Secundus)
On the Battlefield, The glowing thread reaches from horizon to horizon
now, refusing to fade, as if borne by the piteous wailing.
As the Bajazets enter the room the rattle and pop of maula fire
sounds. Secreted about the bunker are the remains of the Harkonnen
garrison, injured and desperate. A hail of projectiles rain down on the
attacking troops. Kneeling behind the map table, Schreck squeezes off
rounds from a massive multibarrel maula carbine.

Etta stands behind Schreck, surrounded by the aura of a shield, holding a
kindjal in one hand and a pistol in the other.
The Bajazet men surge forwards trying to rush their opponents. A number
are cut down in their charge falling backwards against their own men. A
soldier grabs the body of his dead comrade by his tunic, holding him
before him as a shield while he aims his pistol over the mans shoulder at
Schreck and squeezes off a shot.

Azim enters the bunker with the rest of the Bajazet troops, though he
stands out from the others both in statue and the ornamentation on his
turban- a small ruby rests in its centre. The faint shimmer of a shield
surrounds him, and in the rage of battle he has forgotten all about his
pistol, he instead swings his scimitar visciously at an unshielded
Harkonnen soldier- lopping his head off and grinning almost gleefully as
he starts for Schreck.

Schreck fires until his weapon is empty, then leaps over the map table at
Haroon, swinging his carbine like a club.The pistol shot catches him in
the shoulder and he's knocked off his trajectory, and he winds up
sprawling at Haroon's feet.

Etta watches events unfold without expression, not even a flicker of the
eye. As Schreck falls, she drops her blade and reaches to turn off her
shield.

Schreck screams, "My lady, flee!" He tries to get to his feet and hurls
himself at Azim.

Haroon looks around the room as his men move swiftly among the wounded,
putting knives to throats and overpowering the last of the resistance. His
eyes have a dead empty look, like two black holes that are taking in
everything happening but beyond processing any more. "Surrender or die" he
says, flatly and perhaps slightly pointlessly. He sets eyes on Etta and
raises his pistol to point at her. "/You/" he rasps "Will come with us" A
little of the old fire creeps back into his eyes at the statement and he
grits his teeth.

On the Battlefield, A second violet scratch draws slowly across the
firmament, further north than the first. It glows more virulently, etched
deeper into the sky.

Even as she flips the switch to turn off her shield, Etta moves to answer
Schreck's command, trying to make it to the lift, sparing only a glance at
Haroon.
The massive Bajazet cackles gleefully, stopping just long enough to say,
"That's a no-no, Harkonnen. At least you have the grace to get yourself
killed in battle, though I must say I shall not grant thee that
request." With that he lashes out with a savage blow to Schreck's
mid-section.

Schreck gives a groan and topples backwards. He spits blood on his
flamboyant Karposzine uniform. "Kill me, then, Bajazet filth. I'll die
knowing that I took you with--"climbing to his feet again--"me!" he rushes
forward, hands clawing for Azim's eyes.

One of the Bajazet lunges forwards grabbing at Etta's robe roughly. He
puts an arm around her neck holding her tightly and hisses something into
her ear in Amat. "The Lady is fated!" he yells at Schreck as he makes his
move. "But die for the whore.. she'll remember your blood on her" he jeers
with a maniacal look. 

Haroon watches, resting one hand on the wall to support himself, raising
his pistol again to track Schreck.

Haroon coughs and spits a glob of blood and phlegm onto the floor.

Etta struggles against the hold, trying to aim the pistol she carries, to
shoot herself before the Bajazet can disarm her.

On the Battlefield, Whatever it is, it's accelerating. A deep, ugly
magenta gash slits open above the first two, accompanied by an audible
hiss and a guttural rumbling like desert thunder. The strange light
through the windows is painful to look at, and taints the ragged landscape
with its unhealthy glow.

With a deep rumbling laugh Azim slashes at Schreck's mid-section with his
scimitar, tearing the fabric of his uniform even more. "You know, infidel,
they tell me that most khufir say killing with the tip lacks artistry, and
I-I however, do not agree with them." With those words, he plunges the tip
of his scimitar into Schreck- just under the man's solar plexus.

The Harkonnen coughs up blood, scrabbling vainly at his midsection as he's
run through. He staggers and falls back, spilling gore over the floor of
the bunker, to lie very still.

Haroon tugs at the two spikes of his beard trying to straighten them back
into points. He abandonds the attempt leaving it in disarray and glances
out of the window, the pinkish light reflecting off his eyes. He appears
totally disinterested in the proceedings behind him and waves a hand at
the guard holding Etta, gesturing him to keep her securely held.
A tiny smile plays across the Regent's lips as he realises what is about
to happen. "Victory comes at a high price.. I should have expected nothing
less"

On the Battlefield, the Bajazet troops seem to have reached the same
conclusion as one points and yells at the sky. A ripple effect begins
among the men as they start to run, heads down and legs pumping struggling
to distance themselves from the palace and find any inch of cover. Some
sprint towards the bunker as a riderless horse stands uncertain tossing
its head up and down at the sky and whinnies

On the Battlefield, A fourth wound slashes through the pale, blooded sky,
deep enough to see the head of it. It's a sparkling amber gem, unzipping
the atmosphere as it goes. Its wake is a shrieking thunder, a rolling
exuberance of shattered atoms, a tsunami of warm, dry air which wilts the
trees, cracks the eyes and burns the skin.


Harkonnen Bunker -- Erzurum (Malarca Secundus)

        Built of native sandstone almost two feet thick and heavily
fortified with boulders, this long, low building is set half-way into the
ground and has only a few small openings overlooking the battlefield. The
windows are large enough for several weapons to be fired through and the
door is sheltered on the outside by a slab of black slate positioned at an
angle. The floor is packed earth and the walls have been hastily
white-washed. There is not much in the way of phsyical comforts in the
bunker.
        A MAP TABLE and six folding chairs are situated near the lift door
and, at the opposite end, six FOLDING COTS are meagre provision for a few
lucky wounded. The rest of the wounded are lined up on tarps beside the
battlefield. Manacles on short lengths of chain are imbedded into the rock
wall and the questioning of prisoners is aided by a variety of devices
that hang on nails nearby. There is a strong odor of stale food and sweat
that is only relieved by the occasional gust of wind that comes in from
the desert.

Players:
 Azim                                  Rhedek                                
 Etta                                  Schreck                               
 Haroon                                Sen                                  
Exits:
 Lift <U> leads to Terrace -- Erzurum Palace (Malarca Secundus) 
 South <S> leads to Battlefield -- Erzurum (Malarca Secundus)
       

A Bajazet field radio, on the belt of a soldier, hisses an urgent message,
over the crackle of static. "...space command..urgent...trajectory
is..Erzurum. Evac..."

Etta gives up her struggle and looks out through the bunker's doorway,
watching the sky.

On the Battlefield, Hopelessly tiny crimson lines drawn themselves between
the heavens and the earth, trying vainly to catch the wailing bauble as it
cruises overhead, flashing wide patches of sand into glass. Roiling clouds
are visible on the horizon where these beams touched seawater in their
failed attempts to cut apart the golden ball.

The guard puts a hand on Etta's head and forces her down to the floor
roughly. A soldier tugs at the Regents sleeve distracting him from his
reverie and points silently at the rest of the men who are already ducked
down behind tables in the bunker. The Regent puts his back to the wall and
slides down, bending his knees, until he comes to rest.

Azim mirrors the actions of the Regent, finding a wall and sliding down
until he is in a sitting position. He does not turn his gaze to watch at
the sky, rather he studies the Regent.

Etta hits the rubble-covered floor with a soft 'oof' and lays there,
still, listening to what she can no longer see. Her breathing is shallow,
tense, and the scent of blood fills her senses.

The last soldier stands by the window watching the trajectory of the
falling star. His face slowly falls and the blood rushes out of
it. "Shaitain! Cover your eyes" he rasps hoarsely and throws himself to
the floor along with his comrades.




On the Battlefield, One of the silent rays lancing frantically all around
the glittering gem happens to touch it lightly. The roaring purple wound
can be seen by those unlucky enough to be watching, to open itself like a
deck of cards being fanned, twisting off in unexpected
directions. Instantly there is a blinding flash and a shudder through the
earth, then another, then several in rapid succession, and after a few
last heartbeats, eight seconds at most, a last which is all the first put
together. All is very still, unbearable heat baking off of every surface.

On the Battlefield, Then the shockwave comes, tearing out trees and
flinging men melted into strange candles through the air, shattering
scorched houses and rolling melted asphalt into glossy ripples as smoothly
as it does molten sand into plains of mirrors. The Harkonnen bunker
shudders under the assault, the portion of it which is above ground
cracking along its facing wall, but the structure as a whole remains a
testament to its excessively sturdy construction.

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