Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [248]
Rabban hoped this would be more like a tavern brawl; he and his friends often marched into drinking establishments in outlying Giedi Prime villages and stirred up trouble, cracked open a few heads, and had a fine old time.
A control-panel screen in the no-ship showed him a graphic of the immense cargo hold, with a gray dot representing each ship. The dots changed to orange as the ships of various Houses Major powered up their weapons, prepared to defend themselves in what would become an all-out brush war.
Feeling like an unseen mouse on the floor of a crowded dance hall, Rabban piloted the no-ship behind a Harkonnen freighter, around to where no one in any other craft could see the Harkonnen ship open a hatch and allow the guerrilla craft inside.
Within the safety of the mother ship, Rabban switched off the no-field, making the attack craft visible to the Harkonnen crew. His hatch opened, and he stepped forth onto the platform, wiping sweat from his forehead. His eyes sparkled with excitement. “Have the other ships started shooting yet?”
Klaxons sounded. Panicky conversation spat out of the comsystem like shrapnel from a maula pistol. Frantic voices in Imperial Galach and battle code sounds spilled over from the crowded comlinks inside the Heighliner: “The Atreides have declared war on the Tleilaxu! Weapons fired!”
Smug about his successful attack, Rabban shouted to the crew, “Activate our frigate’s weapons array. Make sure no one fires on us—those Atreides are ruthless, you know.” He chuckled.
Cargo-handling equipment gripped the small craft, then lowered it into a space between false bulkheads. Panels snicked shut over the opening, which even Guild scanners could not detect. Of course no one would search for the craft anyway, since there was no such thing as an invisible ship.
“Defend yourselves!” another pilot shouted over the comsystem.
A Tleilaxu whine ensued. “We give notice that we intend to fire back. We are well within our rights. No provocation . . . blatant disregard for Guild rules.”
Another voice, coarse and deep: “But the Atreides frigate shows no weapons. Maybe they were not the aggressors.”
“A trick!” the Tleilaxu screeched. “One of our ships is destroyed, another severely damaged. Can you not see with your own eyes? House Atreides must pay.”
Perfect, Rabban thought, admiring his uncle’s plan. From this crux point, several events could occur, and the plan would still work. Duke Leto was known to be impetuous, and everyone now believed he had committed a heinous and cowardly act. With any luck, his ship would be destroyed in a retaliatory attack, and the Atreides name would go down in infamy for Leto’s treacherous deed.
Or this could just be the beginning of a long and bloody feud between House Atreides and the Tleilaxu.
In either case, Leto would never be able to untangle himself.
On the command bridge of the Atreides frigate, Duke Leto struggled to calm himself. Because he knew his ship had not fired, it took him some seconds even to understand the accusations being shouted at him.
“The shots came from very nearby, my Duke,” Hawat said, “from right under our bow.”
“So that was no accident?” Leto said, as a dismal feeling came over him. The destroyed Tleilaxu ship still glowed orange, while the pilot of the other vessel continued to scream at him.
“Vermilion hells! Somebody actually fired on the Bene Tleilax,” Rhombur said, peering out the armor-plaz porthole. “And it’s about time, if you ask me.”
Leto heard the cacophony of radio traffic, including the outraged Tleilaxu distress calls. At first he wondered if he should offer assistance to the damaged ships. Then the Tleilaxu pilot started howling the Atreides name and demanding his blood.
He noted the burned-out hull of the destroyed Tleilaxu craft—and saw the guns on its wounded companion swiveling toward him. “Thufir! What’s he doing?”
The open comlink blared