Ceile sold...to the Harkonnens?!

["Peggy Walker" <skysinger@hotmail.com>]

NOTE:  Ceile was taken bodily from her rooms at the Palace by two Sardaukar 
guards.  Despite her struggles, she was passed on to two of Nestor’s 
personal cadre guards at the Green, and then from their taken to the 
Harkonnen Embassy.

Traffic Loop -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)(#644RntJ)

     A wide plascrete roadway loops in a semicircle before the front gate of 
the Harkonnen Embassy where ten slender flagpoles, each flying a large blue 
banner, tower over the drive. Three-meter-high, spiked walls surrounds the 
embassy grounds and, set into the wall, are two massive, embossed fanmetal 
gates, topped by short spikes. The entrance to the embassy is guarded by 
four Harkonnen troopers in blue and silver dress uniforms, maula pistols 
held at port arms. Ground traffic busily fills the loop, picking up and 
discharging passengers.
     In the center of the loop is a huge granite statue of a springing ram.

Players:
Nestor

Nestor stands just inside the Embassy gates, hands clasped lightly in front 
of himself. He nods to his two cadre guards as they emerge from the 
limousine with Ceile in tow. "Welcome to the Harkonnen Embassy, Ceile," he 
states simply, his voice deadpan.

Ceile is rather pale as she's pulled out of the limousine. As she sees 
Nestor's familiar face, she once again gives her arms a sharp tug, trying to 
free them from the cadre guards grips. "What is the meaning of this?" she 
demands rather harshly.

Nestor smiles almost imperceptibly as he beckons the guards inside with 
their package. "A slave," he says, pausing just enough time for that to sink 
in, "speaks when spoken to, Ceile."

"What?" Ceile gasps, her eyes widening as the implications of what was just 
said. As she's 'guided' inside, she continues to try and halt the forward 
motion, but to no avail. "You are speaking to a Lady, sir. I suggest you 
remember that..." Her gaze shifts to the guards on either side of her as she 
adds, "And unhand me, now!"

Nestor shakes his head lightly at the frantic actions of the former lady. 
With that, he makes a quick handsignal to his guards, who move to escort her 
into the gates.

Ceile shakes her head sharply, clenching and unclenching her fists as she 
jerks her arms almost painfully without succeeding in moving them an inch. 
"Let me go! This is madness!"

Garden of Bitterblooms -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

     The roughly circular outline of the vast embassy garden is hidden 
beyond a wild tangle of flowers and plants. A stone path snakes from the 
outer walls of the embassy grounds, past a chain of lilyponds and hedges, up 
to the doors of the embassy itself. Other footpaths stray deeper into the 
garden, amid the white bitterblooms of Giedi Prime that lend the garden its 
name. One trail leads the way to a gently sloping hill topped by a folly of 
Giedi marble columns. Moss-covered stone steps reach up the hill in a 
zig-zag pattern, bordered at every turn by marble statues and plascrete urns 
overflowing with inkvine and translucent roses. An artful fountain, 
fashioned to resemble a natural brook spilling over smooth stones, is set 
into the side of the hill.

   A dense profusion of flora from many worlds creates intimate arbors and 
bowers where vines and tree boughs are twined together and harbor small 
grassy areas or benches. Elacca trees shade the lilyponds where miniature 
alligators swim. A stand of Caladanian dogwoods shelter the bloom of 
fragrant black lotus. Topiary hedges form living partitions throughout the 
garden. A bridle path for horseback riding follows the curve of the 
surrounding wall, provided with a variety of terrain’s ranging from smooth, 
grassy field to steep, rocky slopes. The main building of the embassy is 
visible through the foliage from almost everywhere in the garden: a squat, 
ponderous structure built of white plascrete, with black ribbed buttresses 
supporting the weight of the whole structure.

Players:
Ceile                                 Nestor

Nestor continues walking toward the Embassy proper, his stride even with his 
guards'. "This is not madness, Ceile...merely the end of a transaction. The 
difference should be generally evident to you.

"What are you talking about?" Ceile demands, her voice raising an octave. 
She apparently refuses to accept the obvious answer which has been laid out 
in front of her.

Nestor waits to answer Ceile until he reaches the doors of the Embassy and 
as the doors open before them, he says ominously, "House Harkonnen has 
bought you, Ceile. You are ours to do with as we please - a common slave."

Giedi Hall -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)(#492RantJ)

     The imposing domed hall is a tribute to the Harkonnen homeworld. 
Directly overhead, a star-shaped skylight filters daylight through thick red 
glass, casting an iron red radiance into the room like that of Giedi's 
muted, red sun. At night, a myriad of tiny glowglobes form constellations 
against the backdrop of the dark blue and silver dome. Underfoot, a mosaic 
of tiny floor tiles creates an intricate, spiraling pattern, like a river of 
azure and teal.

  Deep niches along the polished bluestone walls are lit by floating 
glowglobes and filled with bronze statuary depicting famous Harkonnen 
victories. Alternating with the niches are doors leading off into various 
chambers and, on the east side of the room, a broad majestic staircase leads 
up to a wide circular landing of white marble trimmed in gold. At the south 
end of the Hall, twin scantily-clad, blonde slave girls stand on either side 
of a pair of carved ivory doors.


Ceile is silent, doubtlessly in shock after the truth is laid so bluntly 
before her. She still seems determined to not believe what she's been told, 
though, as she shakes her head once again. "No...that's impossible." She 
twists her head, looking from side to side for some way to escape as she 
adds, "This must be some sort of sick joke..."

Nestor says, "What you call 'sick' you will soon learn is a nuance of the 
Harkonnen Way. You will soon learn to accept that." Another handsignal to 
his guards and they head downward into the bowels of the Embassy. "Remember 
our talk about open-mindedness..."

Ceile's struggles increase in their urgency as she's moved farther into the 
Embassy, and she raises her voice into a surprisingly loud shout, "NO!" 
APparently, she hasn't forgotten all of her stage training. "I will NEVER 
accept this...there's a mistake, this can't happen!"

Nestor comments, "How very like the spoiled brat that you have always been 
to deny the reality around you." His guards are now having some trouble 
restraining her, though they show no signs of letting go no matter how she 
gyrates, pulls and tugs. "Now you stand at a different level on the 
Faufreluches - a place for every man and every man in his place. I never 
once saw you give anything up to free a slave...no lost sleep at their 
labors. Now you become one. Perhaps this is God's way of teaching you a life 
lesson..." And down they go.

Giedi Hall -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)(#492RantJ)

     The imposing domed hall is a tribute to the Harkonnen homeworld. 
Directly overhead, a star-shaped skylight filters daylight through thick red 
glass, casting an iron red radiance into the room like that of Giedi's 
muted, red sun. At night, a myriad of tiny glowglobes form constellations 
against the backdrop of the dark blue and silver dome. Underfoot, a mosaic 
of tiny floor tiles creates an intricate, spiraling pattern, like a river of 
azure and teal.

Deep niches along the polished bluestone walls are lit by floating 
glowglobes and filled with bronze statuary depicting famous Harkonnen 
victories. Alternating with the niches are doors leading off into various 
chambers and, on the east side of the room, a broad majestic staircase leads 
up to a wide circular landing of white marble trimmed in gold. At the south 
end of the Hall, twin scantily-clad, blonde slave girls stand on either side 
of a pair of carved ivory doors.

Abulurd Landing -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

This chamber is carved out of the bedrock and the walls are tiled in 
thousands of tiny marble tiles, all in hundreds of shades of 
red--crimson,scarlet, sanguine, ruby, apple, carmine, maroon, 
vermillion--arranged haphazardly. The floor of the room forms a mosaic of 
the Harkonnen crest--an ivory ram's head on a dark blue background. Security 
troopers stand at attention near each of the exits.
Players:
Nestor

Ceile shakes her head, stumbling down the staircase, the guards on either 
side of her the only things keeping her standing. "I freed who I could from 
your Baron." she hisses, blinking back the tears that are threatening to 
spill over. "And even God can't be this cruel!"

Nestor raises an eyebrow as he turns to examine Ceile at a safe distance 
from her flailing legs. He leans in her direction. "How many slaves could 
you have freed if you truly cared about their 'plight'? Hmm? Your 'nobility' 
only goes as your line and your name...without them, you cannot claim 
nobility even in character, or so you demonstrate here."

Ceile glares at Nestor, her voice shaking slightly as she answers him. 
Whether in fear or anger is anyone's guess. "Any one who would quietly 
accept slavery to the Harkonnens is sick or brainwashed, not noble." she 
spits out. Her feet are firm on the ground, but could be used any moment. 
She continues to pull and tug against the grips on her arms. "I hope you 
know what you've gotten yourself into."

Having turned away to move toward the slave pens, the Mentat Nestor stops in 
his tracks...his voice seems to quiver...then shiver...then a loud laugh 
erupts and echoes in the hallway. Even the guards seem uncomfortable with 
this reaction from the Mentat, shifting their footings slightly. He turns 
halfway to look at Ceile and say, "Oh, I most certainly do, slave," before 
turning back to his course to the slave pens.

Ceile stares at Nestor, her eyes still opened wide, abnormally so. "No, you 
don't..." She whispers, trying to take a step back towards the stairs, 
doubtless to bolt if her arms weren't held in iron vices. "Or you wouldn't 
be laughing..."

Nestor watches as his cadre guards tug Ceile in the proper direction, 
disregarding her urgings. "And you have no idea what is to happen to you, 
else you would not be making such statements. It is you who guides the path 
of your indoctrination." With that, he continues to the pens.

Slave Pits -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

The slave pits under the Embassy are almost medical in their precision and 
their cleanliness. Dozens of slaves are kept here, in spotless, comfortable 
cells lined with pale blue plascrete, lined up along east-west walls. A 
variety of scientific equipment, used to ensure the slaves' docility, is 
kept nearby. Watchful slavers patrol the cells, ever vigilant.
Players:
Nestor

The guards holding her may be able to feel her trembling in their grip as 
she's guided into the Pits. Ceile's eyes dart from one section of the 
lab-like area to another, taking in each of the many details.

Apparently this is a scripted event, as the guards do not have to be told 
where to take Ceile. Without an order or a word, they guide her to a small 
empty cell - two meters on each side, just over two meters in height, 
completely pure white, bereft of anything even similar to a furnishing.

Nestor, the rising panic not completely hidden in her gaze. "There has been 
a mistake...there has to have been..."

Ceile doesn't have to ask, she realizes which cell she's being taken to. 
"You can't be serious..." she whispers even as she's forced to continue 
towards it. She twists her head to look at Nestor, the rising panic not 
completely hidden in her gaze. "There has been a mistake...there has to have 
been..."

Nestor waits until Ceile is just about in the cell, the plasteel bars swung 
open to one side of it to say, "A mistake? Unless you are not the former 
Lady Ceile Aguilira, concubine to the deceased Emperor Jeon then there is no 
mistake. You are now Harkonnen property."

Ceile closes her eyes, drawing a deep breath. She mutters something to 
herself under her breath before opening her eyes very, very slowly. As she 
realizes nothing's changed, she shudders. "No..."

Nestor sighs as his guards move to press Ceile into her cage to close the 
bars. "There is nobility in acceptance," he states simply. There are three 
holes in the bars in the way that they are bent: two smaller ones on either 
side of a larger one, each a safe distance apart. This is presumably for the 
hands and head. Inside the cage, on closer if fearful examination, has slots 
and notches, possibly for chains, et al.

Wensic enters into the barred gate with several Harkonnen guards following 
behind him. The guards groan, and moan in silence under their breath, 
knowing fully that a member of the Imperial Court is here. He looks to Ceile 
in the cage, then glares at Nestor like he is scolding a dog. "What in 
Vermillion Hells is going on?"

Ceile hardly stands a chance against the two cadre's as she's forced into 
the tiny 2x2x2 cage. As the door is slammed shut behind her, she spins, 
moving to stand next to the door, her hands gripping the bars firmly. "You 
can't do this!" she challenges, though her voice is not quite as strong as 
earlier. As Wensic enters, her eyes light up. "Duke!"

Nestor shakes his head as the two nobles debate the inevitable. "A financial 
transaction, sir," he states in Wensic's direction. "The former 'Lady Ceile' 
is now Harkonnen property...sold /directly/ by the Emperor of the Known 
Universe Himself. Do you question the Emperor's wishes?" he asks in a near 
interrogation tone. The man is on his home ground, after all.

Wensic glares at him, "Property? I see that the Baron fancies her now, eh? I 
do not question my cousin's wishes, but I sure as Hell can question the 
Baron's. How much was she sold for?"

It takes but a moment for Ceile to spot the holes in the bars, and to remove 
her right hand from the bar, extending it half-way through the hole out into 
the rest of the area. "Duke...you can't leave me here. Please..." With her 
gown, the cell she's in is fairly much filled. That's the problem with these 
hoop-skirt fashions.

Nestor clasps his hands lightly in front of himself as he faces Wensic 
full-front. Not anywhere near as imposing as the other, but again he is on 
his home ground so to speak. "You have absolutely no right to question 
anyone's motives, sir. None whatsoever. It is a financial transaction and it 
is done...approved wholeheartedly by the Emperor. In fact, the one thing 
that I hadd to append to the transaction was the order of the Emperor that 
she never return to the Palace...ever. She would probably be executed for 
trespassing should any such thing happen." He pauses for a moment, allowing 
the man to put that together. "You are here because I allow it and it is not 
against the Baron Harkonnen's wishes...conduct yourself appropriately."

Wensic glares at the Mentat, "Perhaps it is the Harkonnens that should 
conduct themselves properly. Now are you going to answer me or are your 
deaf? How much was she sold for?"

Ceile looks from one of the men’s faces to the other, then back slowly. It 
was as if she wasn't there. She slowly pulls her hand back, once again 
holding the bar.

Nestor appears nonplused by the glare - he is probably used to much worse. 
"Ask your cousin the Emperor, sir. Now...you may speak with the slave if you 
remain cordial. If not, it is my right to have you escorted out of the 
Embassy. I would rather the former than the latter, as you are an esteemed 
noble even by such as I."

Wensic closes his eyes, and asks quietly, "How much did my cousin sell her 
off for?"

Nestor purses his lips for a moment, then, "How much did my cousin sell her 
off for...Master Nestor."

Ceile swallows as she listens. She licks her lips, continuing to look 
between the two. What's there for her to say at this point.

Wensic moves closer to the cell and states, "Master, you did not use my 
title why should I use yours. Forget titles at the moment, and let us look 
at my pocket book." He pulls out a small finance booklet, his name written 
in gold on it, along with his crest. "Now the price?"

As Wensic's pocketbook is brought forward, and the meaning of his question 
is obvious, Ceile smiles. "Duke..." she offers quietly, ignoring Nestor for 
the moment. "Thank you..."

Nestor shrugs. "Fair enough. She was purchased for many strings of pearls 
and a slave girl that was made to resemble Ceile...with a limited 
vocabulary. If you wish to know more, speak to your cousin, sir."

Nestor appends, "And she is certainly not for sale."

Ceile's smile disappears instantly with Nestor's words, and her grip on the 
cell bars tightens until her knuckles are white. "That sick bastard..." she 
whispers, her brow furrowing as she frowns gently.

Wensic chuckles, "A string of pearls eh? I thought the Baron would have more 
taste." he laughs, "No really, not for sell? That is too bad, Master. I do 
know that the Baron loves his wine more than a woman's touch. He 
could...have my vineyard. Or is she not for sell because you would like to 
have some sort of sick twisted fun with her, Master? Oh please, do tell, do 
tell."

Nestor takes a step closer to the imposing man. "You seem to think that 
because you are a Corrino that I owe you an explanation. I do not. House 
Harkonnen is, of course, indebted to House Corrino for its stellar 
leadership and yet you must see the restictions that even you must follow, 
sir. It was a fair and legal exchange. Slaves are bought and sold quite 
constantly. Will you free this one or does the suffering of them all pain 
you in the dark of the night? No, she is a slave now just as plainly as she 
had once been a noble. Acceptance is noble, as I was telling this slave just 
a moment ago."

Wensic looks to Nestor, getting right in his face if he was just a step 
closer. "This woman still has a title, correct. If she is to be a slave she 
must be stripped of her title before a Landsraad Council. Personally I 
believe all life has meaning, from the slave to the Emperor. Man is born 
good."

Nestor corrects, "She is property. Property of another has no title. A slave 
is a slave."

Nestor says, "What is more, the Emperor himself has deemed her a 'slave'. Do 
not question the Emperor so in this Embassy."

Ceile closes her eyes as she continues to listen, her hands releasing their 
grip around the bars of her stark white cell. "This is a nightmare..." she 
whispers softly even as the two men continue to debate about her. She steps 
back the two steps needed before slowly sinking down to sit on the floor, 
her knees drawn up towards her chest. "You'll wake up, and be back in your 
rooms..."

Wensic hmmms, "Funny, last time I checked she was concubine to the former 
Emperor, and had a title. Does this all happen during the night?" Shakes his 
head, "I do not question the Emperor, in fact I believe you insult us for 
what price you gave us for this woman. It churns my stomach to see someone 
like you working for the Baron in a room that smells like sweat and semen. 
Tell me Master, do you downgrade yourself to this position?"

Nestor licks his lips slightly. "You will have to forgive me, sir," he says, 
his voice nearing on a monotone, "but your insult has hurt me so that I can 
not quite find the words...but I will try. She /was/ a noble with a station 
and title...now, deemed by the Emperor, she is a piece of Harkonnen 
property. Those are the facts and there can be no other interpretations. 
Good day sir. You may leave."

Wensic stands his ground, "Certainly the Baron can get his kicks somewhere 
else, certainly someone younger, and more budding."

Ceile remains seated on the floor at the back of her cell. She doesn't 
bother listening to Nestor or Wensic anymore as she continues to whisper to 
herself, trying to convince herself that this is, indeed, all just a 
nightmare.

Nestor says, "The transaction is final. She stays Harkonnen property. Good 
day, sir."

Wensic looks to him, "May I have a word with her? In private? The guards may 
stay, but I assure you I shall not plan escape."

Nestor quirks a brow. "You give me your word as a Corrino that you will not 
plan any semblance of an escape or any kind of action toward House Harkonnen 
in your conversation?"

Wensic says, "My word."

Nestor nods slightly. "Very well. The guards will, however, remain. Speak 
only in Galach. Your word as a Corrino is enough."  Nestor turns and moves 
toward the exit back to the landing.

Ceile is still sitting at the back of her cell, though as it's only two 
meters deep, that isn't that far.

Wensic hits the bars with his fists, "Damn you Erich, fucking Erich!" Looks 
to Ceile, "I will hire a legal team, and I will try to get you out."

Ceile jumps slightly as Wensic slams his fist into the bars of her cell, 
lifting her head swiftly. She scrambles to her feet, moving forward to 
lightly grip the bars of her cell once again. "Please my Lord..." She 
glances towards the guards, licking her lips before returning her gaze to 
the Duke. "There has to be a mistake, please. I beg you, ask your cousin..."

Wensic shakes his head, sighing, saying mournfully. "It is no mistake. Erich 
knows what he is doing. He just removed you from the court to get you out of 
his way."

Ceile shakes her head, moving her hands to reach out through the two holes 
in the cell door, reaching for and taking the Duke's hand. "You can't leave 
me here. Please, you must find a way to get me out." She continues to shake 
her head slowly as she searches Wensic's face for any sign of hope. "There 
has to be a way..."

Wensic sighs, looking around, perhaps for a passage to escape. Some flaw in 
the engineering. "You must be strong, Lady Ceile. You must be strong.".

“I won’t let them beat me.” Ceile answers, managing a faint smile. “Not the 
Harkonnens.”  She continues to look directly at Wensic as she gives his hand 
a squeeze before pulling her hand back. “I’ll remain strong, and wait for 
your help…will you do me a favour, my Lord?”

Wensic nods, "Yes, anything."

Ceile nods swiftly, visibly relaxing and calming as the conversation 
continues. “Tell Justine where I am.  Let her know what’s happened.”  She 
brings her hands back into her cell, smoothing them over her skirts.  
“She’ll help you.”

Wensic nods, "I will do that." He looks to as a guard annouces that his time 
is up. "I must go now."

Ceile swallows, nodding as she takes a half step back. “Thank you, my Lord.” 
She replies, dipping into a deep curtsey, smiling more firmly as she 
straightens again.

Nestor enters the room again, hands still in his signature position. "You 
should go now, sir...you will only make the transition more difficult."

Wensic nods, "Goodbye, M'Lady." Turns to Nestor, shaking his head at him, 
sneering. He whispers something about, 'Rot in Hell you peon bastard.'

Nestor says to the man's departing back. "If I'm lucky."

Nestor says, "Are you comfortable, Ceile?"

Ceile shifts her gaze to Nestor after Wensic’s disappeared, and without a 
word, she turns her back on him and moves the short distance to the back of 
her cell.  With a soft sigh, she sits once again, closing her eyes as she 
leans against the side wall.

Nestor says, "I will be conducting your training, Ceile...a very personal 
touch. Few get such attention from me, so you should feel blessed in a 
sense. Soon enough you too will think of yourself as a slave and all of the 
anguish you feel now will be past."

Ceile doesn’t react at all to Nestor, either physically or verbally.  She 
shifts slightly, tipping her head back so it rests against the cell wall.  
From all appearances, she looks as if she’s about to sleep.

Nestor says, "Get used to short snippets of peace and rest...though at times 
this will not be a worry," he advises as he turns away. "And...welcome to 
House Harkonnen."



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